"The Red Planet (Miles' Mode)"

Often attributed to John Coltrane,"Miles' Mode" is probably the best known jazz composition making use of dodecaphonic technique. Vladimir Simosko and Dave Wild have made a compelling argument, however, that it was Eric Dolphy, doubtlessly well-acquainted with the work of Arnold Schoenberg, who wrote the piece and titled it "The Red Planet." 

"The Red Planet" contains a brilliant, microcosmic application of some basic tools of twelve-tone technique. (In registering the obvious semantic objection, I will also point out below that Dolphy's musical purposes are clearly non-Schoenbergian.) It is widely understood that the melody of the piece consists of a prime statement of the tone row followed by its retrograde, creating a musical palindrome:

B D E C# F# G# A G C Bb F Eb  "  Eb F Bb C G A G# F# C# E D B 

The modal arrangement of the tone row lends a distinct antecedent/consequent sound to these phrases. In miniature, the melodic contour of the antecedent suggests the statement of a basic idea (B D E C#), a repetition of the basic idea in the form of a response transposed up a fifth (F# G# A G), and a liquidation of the motive in approach of the caesura (C Bb F Eb). (This terminology is borrowed, however inappropriately, from William E. Caplin's Classical Form.) The first seven tones of the row outline B Dorian, and the remaining five comprise a C minor pentatonic collection. Thus, we hear the antecedent establish B minor, which is then destabilized by a shift to the tension-heightening C minor; the consequent phrase returns us to the initial B minor. As a member of both B Dorian and C Dorian, pitch-class (A) serves as the pivot between the two. The B minor modality is ultimately affirmed by the subsequent four-measure "coda" containing only the pitch-classes (B D E F#). The T1 transposition heard here is a device commonly referred to as "side-slipping," and it also defines the harmonic relation between the A- and B-sections of the modal jazz classics "So What" and "Impressions."

Exclusively deploying ordered interval-classes 2, 3, and 5, the tone row operative here does not pursue the typical Second Viennese School tonality-avoidant aesthetic, often characterized by the prevalence of interval-classes 1 and 6. Therefore, we can show the voice-leading of "The Red Planet" thusly:

Notice in the foreground graph how the primary tones seem to reference a chromatically altered 1-2-3 stepwise ascent (B-C-D#). Also note in the background graph how the C and Eb smoothly resolve down by half steps, in the appropriate registers, to the terminal D and B.

It is significant that the antecedent phrase "cadences" on Eb/D#: nothing subverts the minor sound more deeply than the interposition of the major third scale degree. Of course, the major third relation is integral to John Coltrane's harmonic conception generally. In his improvised bridge phrases (both in and out) on "Miles' Mode," Coltrane departs from B minor to tonicize Eb major as well as B major before returning to B minor:

Incidentally, Coltrane's sense of symmetry---even over wide swaths of time---is profound: on the in bridge he first transforms B minor to Eb major by a T4 transposition of the root; on the out bridge, complementarily, he transposes first at T8 to map root B onto G. 

The relative relationship between Eb major and C minor connects Coltrane's tonicizing improvisations to the "side-slipping" transposition of Dolphy's composition. In fact, that connection already exists in Dolphy's melody, as (G C Bb F Eb) could be heard as either an Eb major pentatonic or a C minor pentatonic collection given the absence of any harmonic corroboration. 

Interestingly, the inversion that maps Eb onto C (namely, I3, or inversion at index number 3) also functions within the tone row of "The Red Planet" to provide cohesiveness in pitch-class space. Each set of four consecutive pitch-classes in the row consists of two initial pitch-classes inverted about I3 to generate the following two. That is:

I3(B D)=(E C#); 
I3(F# G#)=(A G);
I3(C Bb)=(F Eb).

In just eight measures, then, Dolphy's composition uses basic dodecaphonic technique to create a sense of harmonic movement even within a modal context and living, soulful, well-balanced phrases as well as consistent inversional symmetry within subsets of the row. All of which provides a fertile basis for improvisational elaboration by a master like Coltrane. 

Bechet, Coltrane, and the Operatic

Historians of the 19^th century origins of jazz occasionally remark on the influence of opera in addition to that of popular dances like the schottische and quadrille, as well as numerous other influences. Interestingly, there is even a certain (loose) similarity between the social atmospheres in which jazz and opera emerged: much like the singers of early 18^th century opera seria, early jazz players needed to project their sounds over the din of a drinking, eating, cavorting audience.

Growing up in Creole New Orleans at the turn of the 19^th century, jazz pioneer Sidney Bechet was exposed to opera at a young age. “He always retained fond memories of visiting the Opera House with his mother, and from childhood loved the sound of the tenor voice. Some of the first gramophone recordings that he ever heard were of Enrico Caruso; the dramatic vibrato and the panache of the great singer made their mark on the youngster’s imagination.”

Bechet’s soprano saxophone playing exhibits an undeniably operatic sensibility, and he even incorporated quotes from opera into his compositions. As a commenter points out here, the minor key phrase of Bechet’s “Blues in the Air” quotes from the overture to “Raymond,” written in 1851 by Ambroise Thomas. (The phrase in question is heard at 0:45 and 1:27 in the following videos, respectively).

John Coltrane’s connection to Bechet is usually cited with regard to the former's revival of the instrument pioneered by the latter, the soprano saxophone. Indeed, Coltrane said in an interview that “the sound of that soprano...was actually so much closer to me in my ear... there's something about the presence - of that sound, you know? ...that, that to me, I didn't want to admit it but to me it seemed like it was better - than the tenor - I liked it more, see?” Lewis Porter suggests that the link between Coltrane and Bechet was in fact mediated by Johnny Hodges, a hero of Coltrane’s who was inspired and encouraged by Bechet early in his career. (“‘I ask myself if, today, I only play the soprano saxophone to stay in the lineage of Johnny Hodges—unconsciously, of course.’”)

Regardless, the empirical relationship between Bechet’s sound and Coltrane’s “late period” sound is obvious, even when Coltrane plays tenor. Listen to the first few seconds of Bechet's "Dear Old Southland" and Coltrane's "Ogunde," in which both artists begin with an ascending fourth interval. Similar is the dramatic intensity, wide vibrato, and bravura.

In the liner notes to this Impulse release, Ravi Coltrane recounts:

“I recall a feeling I had the first time I heard [“One Down, One Up”] from the Half Note [1965]—at the B section in John’s first chorus. He plays a seemingly simple, understated, and beautiful line using his vibrato in just the right spots with weight and operatic beauty…”

Indeed, Coltrane’s playing in his last period reintroduces an operatic sense of drama and Dionysian ecstasy that was prevalent in early jazz but had been mostly quelled by classicizing forces in the 1940s and 50s.

UPDATE:

Trumpeter, composer, and scholar Steve Lampert reminds me that the Brazilian folksong "Ogundê uarerê," a version of which Coltrane recorded for the album Expression in addition to the Olatunji Concert above, had been recorded in the late 1940s by Brazilian soprano and Metropolitan Opera artist Bidú Sayão.

Coltrane and Developing Variation

Arnold Schoenberg tells us that “coherence is based on repetition… Coherence comes into being when parts that are partly the same, partly different, are connected so that those parts that are the same become prominent;” and, “Repetition is a structuring principle of coherence.” 

By this account, the solos by McCoy Tyner and John Coltrane on this version of “I Want to Talk About You,” recorded live at the Half Note in 1965, represent two substantive achievements in improvisational coherence.

In measure 4 of his second solo chorus (at 4:02), Tyner plays a two-beat phrase whose 6-note variant follows in measure 5. This 6-note motive is repeated with variation for a total of nine bars, spanning across the two A-sections of the form.

Then, from 4:30, the motive is fragmented into a varied repetition of its triplet component and finally liquidated in a flurry of runs, comprising an additional four measures.

These thirteen bars of motivic variation and ultimate liquidation help to provide even further-reaching coherence to Tyner’s solo insofar as the constituent 6-note motive is foreshadowed (at 3:40) and later reiterated (once at 5:35, once at 5:50, and twice at 6:35). Thus the solo manifests an astonishing degree of global hearing.

Perhaps spurred by Tyner’s display of motivic cohesion and long-range architecture, Coltrane launches his own seamless and organic development of a basic motive, beginning in measure 7 of his first solo chorus and extending through the next three sections of the form and into the second chorus.

The 4-note core (step down, third skip up, fourth down) introduced at 0:19---having been adumbrated by the ascending third intervals of the previous measures---is then extended by attaching a transposition of the motive at the fourth below (at 0:29):

Starting at 0:45 the motive is varied by diminution, then augmented and interrupted by longer, drama-intensifying rests; by 1:50 the motive has become heavily embellished. Finally, at 1:55 Coltrane begins a phrase that starts with a shape related to the original motive but is ultimately liquidated and superseded by an increasingly complex flow of musical ideas. At ballad tempo, such a chain of rigorous motivic connection over an entire chorus and more surely represents coherent improvisation at a global, rather than merely local, level.

Jazz improvisation is often described as a type of “theme and variations,” where the original written song is the theme and successive improvised solo choruses on the harmonic form of the song are the variations. In this case, however, we hear something perhaps more akin to Schoenberg’s concept of "developing variation." Here Coltrane’s development of a repeated motive creates a situation in which the melodic material seems to spiral out of its own accord, growing increasingly complex over an ever-larger span of time and yet somehow always traceable back to the original motive.

The deft application of this kind of "developing variation" concept, especially by Coltrane, results in a level of musical drama and sense of "endless melody" not frequently encountered in jazz improvisation. 

Rudy Williams and Jackie McLean

Jackie McLean advocated a thorough appreciation of the long history of jazz and the many players that comprise that history. He once urged me to familiarize myself with Rudy Williams, for instance. Williams (1909–1954) was a featured soloist on alto saxophone with Al Cooper’s Savoy Sultans in the late 30s and early 40s and one of the precursors of bop who nonetheless managed to incorporate several of bop's developments into his own style. According to McLean, Williams was one of the most respected alto players on the New York scene before Charlie Parker arrived. Some of what impressed McLean about Williams can perhaps be heard in this recording from the Royal Roost in 1948 of Tadd Dameron’s “Our Delight,” also featuring Dameron, Fats Navarro, Allen Eager, Curley Russell, and Kenny Clarke:

Notice Williams’s non-normative use of melodic descending fourths in measure 23, the penultimate bar of the B-section of this 32-bar form (at 2’28”). Over a G-sharp minor 7^th–C-sharp dominant 7^th harmony (alto saxophone key) we hear a prolongation through descending register transfer of F-sharp, the chromatic lower neighbor to the G achieved in measure 24. The particular division of that octave descent into intervals of a fourth is unusual and noteworthy.

The G-sharp is interesting because it completes an uncommon successive-fourths descent. It is logical because it is both the upper neighbor to the prolonged F-sharp, as well as the chromatic upper neighbor to the target G. 

Jackie McLean was later to become known for his own frequent and innovative use of melodic fourth relations (his “systems.”) Interestingly, McLean uses a gesture very similar to the one by Williams in his composition, “Mr. E” (notably also in measure 23!):

Over chromatically descending ii-V chords (D minor 7^th–G dominant 7^th/C-sharp minor 7^th–F-sharp dominant 7^th [alto key]), McLean overlays the same pattern of descending fourths, starting however on the 11^th rather than the 7^th degree of the minor chord. A rhythmically altered version of that melody is repeated and transposed down a semitone in measure 24, following the chromatic descent in the harmony and resolving to the third of the chord on beat 3:

Whereas the Williams example consists of a prolonged chromatic lower neighbor tone resolving up, McLean’s polyphonic voice-leading resolves through contrary motion. This can be shown by representing the melody of measures 23 and 24 vertically:

All of this is not to suggest that McLean was directly borrowing Williams’s technique. Rather, I mean to show one way in which Williams was ahead of his time and to underscore McLean’s emphasis on the importance of looking for historical precedents.