Part 2

Jazz has always had an interesting relationship between honouring its roots and exploring the unknown. What does the balance between these two poles look like in your music?

I spend a great deal of time with those roots because I love to learn about and discover for myself the myriad of different approaches to a particular instrument, ensemble, style, music-making in general etc. That goes beyond jazz and “the tradition”, I think it’s very inspiring to gain an idea of whatever creative things people came up with, whether last week, 15 or 200 years ago.

At some point in college, however, I had the conscious thought that I want to have “the tradition” (whatever that might be referring to) in my heart, not in my hands. At least not have that be what comes out when I play. While I love and appreciate many different kinds of music and artists, I don’t feel the need to necessarily reproduce or reference either of them in an obvious way. I would much rather distil what I learn from my study of the greats through my own experience. Of course it can’t be completely avoided, and some things are rather obvious, even intentional concrete references, with others I’m not even so sure myself. I would say that anything can be unknown only in reference to a point of view.

One means to reach for that feeling of the unknown, for myself, is trying to really improvise in the moment, even better together with others. Because, when one manages to let go of preconceptions and expectations, that can create coincidences which lead to really surprising each other, or at least oneself, and possibly getting a glimpse of the unknown in the form of something one had never played before, heard a band member play before or how the band sounded together in such a moment.

What are currently directions in jazz or jazz-adjacent communities which you personally find interesting?

I am interested in music that is informed by and has space for different ideas which can be combined non-dogmatically, blurring lines between things that are often thought (of) in rather rigid ways, like composition and improvisation, jazz and classical music, art music and entertainment etc.

But I also enjoy listening to and even playing super dogmatic music every so often, I just tend to yearn for something else at some point.

For many artists, life-changing musical experiences take place live. How do you see that yourself?

As I touched upon a little concerning the unknown as well as being inspired by things that seem impossible from where one’s current point of view, this has definitely happened to me and still does, both on stage and as a listener.

In this strange constellation of personalities and energies within the ritualistic practice of live performance, sometimes doors open in the mind. One might step, stumble or even be pushed through them, but somehow there is this insight of “wow, I guess  t h a t  is (also) possible”.



How, would you say are your live performances and your recording projects connected at the moment? How do they mutually influence and feed off each other?  

Recordings document a process by capturing one moment in a series of moments. Even within a recording session, there is usually a development in terms of how takes evolve.

I grew up with listening to all the different takes from the classic recordings, because they were part of the re-issues, so I really had to get used to choosing just one. Sometimes it’s clear, but there are really nice moments on the one where other things just don’t work well enough to use it. Why not enjoy those moments as well?

I get the reasoning behind choosing, of course, but I, personally, don’t believe in a “definitive” version and am always interested in others as well. It’s nice to have a recording as reference and as a document of a certain time, but the music keeps developing and, in my mind, a piece can’t be pinned down (at all, let alone) by just one recorded version of it.

More on that in my Master’s thesis, if those thoughts are of interest!

There are various models to support jazz artists, from financial help to mentorships/masterclasses. Which of these feel like the best way forward to you?

Mentorship is great and important for artistic development, but I think what any art needs to keep developing is a space to be in.

At least in my personal experience, the ratio of great artists wanting to play and opportunities for doing so in a way that is somehow sustainable is a problem. Being made to feel that one is being done a favour – and often actually being done a favour – just getting to play somewhere is a problem.

I guess all that is about money in one way or another, so maybe financial help? I have no answers.



Are there approaches, artists, festivals, labels, spaces or anyone/-thing else out there who you feel deserve a shout out for taking jazz into the future?

There are great artists all over the place, I would suggest checking and supporting your local scene!

It’s been great working with Unit Records. I don’t know enough about any of these things to speak on them in an informed way, or what jazz is in this context, let alone the future. I certainly hope there is one.

The Montreux Festival intends to preserve its archive of recordings for future generations. Do you personally feel it's important that everything should remain available forever - or is there something to be said for letting beautiful moments pass and linger in the memories of those that experienced them?

I think there is something to be said for both points of view. But I have heard enough great bootlegs, piano rolls etc. to appreciate the practice of recording more than less.

Not having a recording can also help make the memory of a beautiful moment even greater than it was. I have at least 2 recordings of single performances, one solo and one with a larger ensemble, where the device died after just a few minutes or recorded an hour of silence. They are fond memories. Discovering a recording of such a moment can go either way.

Forever is a big word, as well. Theoretically, an archive can always be destroyed somehow, but the idea of a “lost recording” also has a certain romantic quality.