AN ODE TO JOY

AN ODE TO JOY

Joy Middleton, at 52. She was seeing me for the first time in 28 years. Photo © 2015, Doug Wicken

I was introduced to Joy Middleton in 1978. I was documenting social services in Kitchener-Waterloo and arrived for my first shoot at Sunbeam Home (now Sunbeam Centre). Joy was the first client I photographed at 6:00 a.m. She was not happy about being awakened by her PSW.

Joy was 15 years-old at the time. I was a 36-year-old photographer embarking on a new project. Initially I intended to photograph many of the clients, but it was Joy who captured my interest. She loved the camera being pointed at her, almost as much as she loved her dolly.

Over the years I continued to visit Joy and take photos of her until 1987, when I accepted a teaching position at Loyalist College in Belleville, Ontario, where I remained until my retirement in 2015. I returned to Kitchener-Waterloo following my retirement.

Upon leaving the college, I mentioned to Patti Gower, the person replacing me, that I may still have another photo essay in me. She reminded me that I still had one story that I had never completed. Patti, incidentally, was a student of mine in the first class I taught at the college. She recalled a photo essay of mine that was ‘in progress’ when she was a student.

“The story of the young woman in Sunbeam Home,” she described. “You must finish that. I think her name was Joy.”

Once settled into my new place, I inquired at Sunbeam Centre about the status of Joy. I secretly worried that Joy may not be around any longer. The receptionist remembered me taking photos 28 years before.

“Yes,” she answered, “Joy is very much still with us. I’m sure she would love to see you again.”

Arrangements were made for my visit. I entered Joy’s room. She was sitting in her chair with her back to me. Her PSW said, “Joy. Look who’s here.” They turned her chair around and Joy’s face broke out in a broad smile. She extended her arms to be embraced.

“She remembers you,” the PSW said.

Since I returned to Kitchener-Waterloo, I’ve had several opportunities to add new photos to the project. Unfortunately, COVID struck in 2020, and more than two years passed. Realizing that Joy would be turning 60 in September 2023, I decided to photograph her on that occasion. (I will be turning 81 the same week). I attempted to reach out for information but received no replies. Finally, I resorted to googling Joy’s name, only to discover her obituary. She passed in March 2022.

I’ve been looking through the photos I’ve taken of Joy over the years. Many of them bring me wonderful memories of a truly ‘joyful’ person. Sometimes, when I experienced some of my own trials of life, I purposely visited Joy. She always greeted me with a smile that lifted up my heart.

For more photographs from my Ode to Joy project, visit: http://www.dougwicken.net/ode-to-joy-1978current.

MOTIF RECORDING SESSIONS

MOTIF RECORDING SESSIONS

Doug Wicken and Tyler Wagler of MOTIF, during a recording session at The Jazz Room, Waterloo, Ontario. Photo by Scott Wicken.

MOTIF is a new collaboration featuring double-bassist Tyler Wagler, and myself, flutist Doug Wicken. Our recent private recording sessions at The Jazz Room in Waterloo, Ontario, with sound engineer, Jeremy Bernard, have proven very successful. Much of the material is based upon simple motifs (thus the group name, MOTIF) and free composition, with intuitive simultaneous improvisations. The intention was to lay down some experimental compositions but, after listening to the entire take, I’m excited about taking it forward to an album release. I’ll have more information and samples as the process continues.

Bassist Tyler Wagler and flutist Doug Wicken, of MOTIF, discuss concepts before their recording session at The Jazz Room, Waterloo, Ontario. Photo by Scott Wicken.

WAYNE SHORTER PASSED THROUGH

WAYNE SHORTER PASSED THROUGH

Today seemed like an ordinary day. I joined my son this morning for a walk along the Grand River and we talked as usual, about whatever was on our minds at the time. While we walked and talked, the world stopped for a very brief moment to allow Wayne Shorter to pass through into the next phase of his being. I don’t know precisely what I was doing or thinking at that moment; I didn’t hear about it until I received a text message from my friend Bill White. I was shocked at the news and had it confirmed by the online RIPs.

Wayne is Buddhist, and therefore will never leave us, but how will we know he’s still here? For me, it will be his legacy, the music he recorded and the compositions I will continue to play. I will also remember the times I heard him perform live; with Miles, Weather Report, and Blakey.

As you can probably guess, I am old enough to remember seeing him live with those other great icons of jazz who have also passed through. I am 80, Wayne is 89, so we have inhabited this terrain for much of the same time.

I don’t normally use superlatives, but here I will make an exception. Wayne Shorter is the most important figure in the history of jazz music. He entered jazz during the 1950s at the tail end of bebop, began composing during his time with Art Blakey, continued following the path through Miles Davis’ second quintet, embraced fusion with Weather Report, and pursued a more free-form direction with his own quartet. In each phase he learned more, and brought each of the previous experiences with him, an evolution of not only his own work, but of jazz itself. In his final years with us, he completed the composition of an opera with Esperanza Spalding and managed to hear it performed. Wayne Shorter is the mainstream of jazz.

EVAN GRAHAM

EVAN GRAHAM

More than two years have gone by since I learned about Evan Graham’s passing (April 2020). Today, while rummaging through some old papers, I discovered these photographs that include Evan. He was a wonderful friend and fellow musician, a sensitive guitarist with a quiet, gentle personality. We performed often together during the 1970s and ‘80s in Waterloo, Ontario, and shared many hours exploring the wonderful world of jazz. We played as a duo in restaurants and with larger groups at clubs and concerts. Once, we shared the stage at the Picture Show (now the Princess Cinema). I sat in with his rock opera, Alabaster (Evan, Tim Wynn-Jones, Ralph Hetke, Klaus Gruber, and myself), and he played with The Doug Wicken Quartet (Evan, Barry Wills, Bernie Carroll, and myself).

One of the photographs was taken to promote our jazz duo. The other was from an afternoon concert at the Faculty Club, University of Waterloo, with the late Barry Wills on piano. I’m also including a copy of Evan’s original composition, “Evan’s Tune.,” a tune we performed many times.

Evan Graham and Doug Wicken. (a pre-digital “selfie” taken to promote our jazz duo)

Barry Wills, Doug Wicken and Evan Graham performing at The Faculty Club, University of Waterloo.

“Evan’s Tune,” an original composition by Evan Graham. (permission previously granted to use by the late Evan Graham).

GIG ANNOUNCEMENT

GIG ANNOUNCEMENT

I’m very excited about my next gig at The Jazz Room in Waterloo. Scheduled for Friday, September 16, 2022, it will be the first live gig I’ve performed in almost three years, and it will coincide with my 80th birthday. Don’t worry, I’ve spent the entire pandemic preparing for this event, practising diligently and composing new material. The performance will be a celebration of, not only my age, but of my participation as an active musician for more than 60 years.

My intent is to pay homage to the many musicians, local and otherwise, I have worked with over the years, who have contributed to my humble level of success and have been instrumental (no pun intended) in maintaining a healthy jazz scene in the K-W area.

Joining me on stage will be an all-star lineup of local talent: Ken Hadley (alto sax & flute), Ralph Hetke (piano), Tyler Wagler (double bass), and Mike Rajna (drums). I’ll be splitting my energies between performing on my beautiful hand-carved double bass and the flute, providing an eclectic blend of tunes, ranging from familiar standards by the mainstream giants of jazz (Miles Davis, John Coltrane, and Wayne Shorter), to original compositions by yours truly.

More information about this event will be provided as details are released.

DISQUANTIFICATION

DISQUANTIFICATION

There have been two major passions in my life, jazz music and documentary photography. There were some minor passions as well but, for the purpose of this exercise, I will concentrate on the two major ones.

At the age of 21, I purchased a double bass on a whim, from a music store in Hamilton, Ontario for $185. It was prominently displayed in the window, and I was attracted to its woodgrain finish and brass fittings, unaware at the time, that it was of laminated (plywood) construction. I had never played a bass before that day, but soon became attached to it and decided I should take some lessons. I was living in Guelph at the time, and contacted Dave Drew, a Waterloo bassist who had recently studied with the great Ray Brown, to teach me some basics.

There is a popular joke about bassists that I learned many years later, but the joke follows my story perfectly. At my first lesson, Dave taught me a walking bass line for blues in B-flat, a simple, but well-worn introduction to the jazz idiom, that I still quote to this day. I practiced the line for the entire week, several hours a day, even exploring it in alternative keys, applying fingerings discovered in a method book I acquired at Waterloo Music. The following Saturday, at my second lesson, I learned lines based upon the chord changes to ‘I Got Rhythm.’ Between the ‘blues’ and ‘rhythm changes,’ I was soon able to play along with a good percentage of the jazz repertoire. Each Saturday, with blistered fingers, I continued to add to my expanding bank of knowledge, proving my talents to Dave as I reached each new plateau. After six weeks, Dave asked me whether I felt confident enough to play the bass parts for the musical, ‘L’il Abner.’ Of course, I said yes, and was immediately booked for a six-night gig at WLU (then Waterloo Lutheran University) as part of their purple and gold revue. It was 1963, the same week as Kennedy’s assassination. The bass parts proved easy for me, and Dave immediately booked me on gigs with a variety of jazz trios at local clubs every weekend for the following Christmas season, including a stint with Trev Bennett’s Big Band on New Year’s Eve. The gigs continued into January and never waned. For some reason, I became a ‘bassist in demand,’ apparently even deserving of some local newspaper publicity.

What I brought to each gig was an ability to play by ear and a flexibility to play different musical styles. It also helped that I was always at the gig ahead of time, appropriately dressed, and was just a general all-around nice guy. Several pianists and drummers referred to me as a ‘natural.’ In 1964, I performed a jazz concert at UW’s Theatre of the Arts leading a quintet under my own name. I had been playing a total of six months; life was good.

In 1965, I joined the Barry Wills Trio. I also attended the Summer Jazz Workshops in Connecticut where I studied with the master himself, Ron Carter, who, at the time was performing with Miles Davis. He instilled in me, a fresh ability to play walking bass lines in new grooves, sometimes allowing more flexible time to spice up the pulse. He also instructed me to always maintain my musical integrity. I was lifted to a loftier plateau when I returned to Waterloo.

‘Curiosity kills the cat,’ is an adage that seems to fit my situation. I have always been curious about the inner workings of things. How does a clock work? What are harmonics and how do they affect the tuning of an instrument? How do chords and scales relate to each other? How do diminished scales work within Dominant 7th chords? My curiosity led me into a labyrinth of mathematical equations and analyses, to an extent that every note I played had to be correct within the parameters I had set out for myself. Believing that I was growing as a player along with each new phase of learning, I continued to be curious. I became a sponge for every new textbook and treatise on jazz and compositional theory, from George Russell’s ‘Lydian Chromatic Concept of Tonal Organization,’ to Dave Liebman’s, ‘A Chromatic Approach to Jazz Harmony and Melody,’ and everything in between. I read, reread, and attempted to apply their methods to my playing.

Continuing with my musical career, I also became interested in documentary photography in the late 1960s and enrolled in the three-year Photographic Arts Program at Conestoga College in 1970. While there, I became obsessed with the theory and techniques of camera exposure, film processing, and printing. I studied Ansel Adam’s ‘Zone System,’ applying the concepts and testing to all my work. Upon graduation, I began a full-time position at UW Environmental Studies Faculty as a photographic technician, a job that morphed into a teaching assignment. On several occasions I was touted by my peers and superiors as an expert, a ‘Master Printer.’ Being a master, I concluded, meant that I should continue to explore and expand my technical skills so I could, when requested, pass my hard-earned wisdom on to others. The UW experience led to a full-time teaching position in Loyalist College’s esteemed Photojournalism Program, where I remained for 28 years before retiring.

I adopted the flute as a second instrument in 2004. My involvement with music and photography continues to this day. It is now, at the age of 79, after surviving 18 months of personal COVID-19 lockdown, that I have finally recognized the folly of my obsessions, and feel compelled to offer my findings to you, the reader, if such a person exists.

My interests as a young musician and photographer were to follow my dreams. As a result of my obsessive curiosity for knowledge and perfection, I was blindly drawn into a chaotic labyrinth of calculations, rules, opinions, expert advice, and belief structures that prevented me from accomplishing my simple goals.

I chose jazz so I could participate in a beautiful art form, to sense the excitement of a music born in the soul and the shared pulse of ensemble playing with like-minded musicians. Money was never the goal, although it became extremely helpful when family came along.

When I chose to pursue documentary photography, it was with a deep-felt desire to right the wrongs of a world gone mad, a planet of bigotry, hatred, violence, religious persecution, environmental rape, and greed. I wanted to propose to readers, through my photographs, a pathway to understand each other, to embrace diversity, and to believe in the human spirit.

To accomplish these goals, I have realized that the dreams have been usurped by my obsessive demands for perfection, by the mathematics and the rules of composition, by the musical theories decided upon by academics, analysts, and scientists, who have long ago lost the gut feeling of the art form they teach. The demands of academic publication and research grants have stripped their souls of the pure joy.

While a college professor of photojournalism for 28 years, I watched as other professors like me, both younger and older, abandoned their own photography, usually within the first couple of years of classroom teaching. Of course, we all had goals of continuing our crafts during the summer breaks and year-long sabbaticals, but somehow that just never materialized.

During the past 18 months, the lockdown time at home has served me well. I’ve written a serious flute solo piece, ‘Solitary Refinement,’ arranged some of my original jazz tunes for various instrumentations, finished a third draft for a novel that has been on the shelf for several years, written, and rewritten, enough new short stories to fill a collection, plus this manifesto of personal awakening, ‘Disquantification.’

The great thing about it all, is that I’ve been practising the double bass, but more so, the flute, and have discovered the wonderful benefits of performing alone, to be free to explore naturally, not through the pages of some treatise, but just for the love of it. There is a new freshness, a freedom, that hasn’t existed since I became obsessed.

If you have made it this far, please consider the following:

 

Beware of too much knowledge.

Don’t resort to math as an explanation for your art.

Don’t allow theories and technical clutter to confuse your desires.

Keep your life simple.

Keep an open mind.

Listen to music and/or look at photographs.

Finally, Miles Davis was right. “There are no bad notes.”

Back Where She Belongs

Back Where She Belongs

Jim Smith (R) shows me where he repaired some of the damage.

Jim Smith (R) shows me where he repaired some of the damage.

This past winter has been brutal for my prized hand-carved double bass. The severe lack of humidity in my apartment took its toll, causing several cracks to emerge in the front of the bass and separating portions of the back from the sides. Major surgery was required.

Fortunately, there’s James Smith, an experienced and talented luthier living in Prince Edward County. Jim has been a friend of mine, and of my bass, since I started building it in 2001. He knows my instrument inside and out and has come to its rescue on several occasions.

Yesterday, I drove to The County where my bass was being released from Jim’s workshop; it’s more like an operating room where precious friends are brought back to life. Once again, Jim (the surgeon) accomplished miracles. I’ve spent today woodshedding with my trusted musical sidekick. It’s great to have her back.

Back on the Blog

Hi Friends. I must be the world's worst Blogger. More than a year has passed since my last post. I'll try to do better this year.

I'll be performing again with The Bernie Carroll Project on Friday, June 8, 2018 at The Jazz Room in The Huether Hotel, King Street, Waterloo. On so many occasions I've heard from musicians, both local and from abroad, that The Jazz Room is their jazz club of choice. There are many reasons that The Jazz Room has earned this reputation.

First and foremost is that it is a LISTENING club; no idle chatter is permitted during the performances. This is not only because it's polite for the musicians (which it is), but it also allows other listeners to really hear what's going on. Jazz is not only loud and percussive, but is often subtle and quiet. Jazz is also comprised of sound and silence, and both must be appreciated.

The second and subsequent reasons are related to how the musicians are treated by the management and the volunteers who keep the club going week after week. There is a designated sound person who looks after setting up all the microphones, the speakers, and particularly, the monitors which allow each musician to hear what's going on. Many non-musicians don't understand how difficult it can be for the musicians to hear each other on the bandstand. Jazz is a listening art. A great jazz performance depends upon how attentive the musicians listen to, and respond to, each other.

Sound checks are usually conducted in the late afternoon before the performance. The musicians use that time to run over some of their material while the sound person adjusts and balances each instrument.

Each performance is recorded by the sound person, and the recordings are made available to the musicians as desired. The musicians are fed from The Jazz Room menu between the sound check and the start of the performance. Photos are often taken of each performance, and within a few days, digital images magically appear in each musicians email. Some of the images used in my website and on my Facebook page are from those files, with full permission to reproduce them.

Now. Ask me why I look forward to performing at The Jazz Room. Did I mention that the musicians are also paid respectably?

The Bernie Carroll Project includes: Dave Wiffen (tenor sax); Doug Wicken (flute); Ralph Hetke (piano); Al Richardson (bass); and Bernie Carroll (drums). You can hear selected recordings of this band in the Sounds and Samples page of my website. www.dougwicken.net .

New Samples

New recordings in the Sounds and Samples Listing.

I've added a couple of new recordings from The Bernie Carroll Project gig in February at The Jazz Room. Give them a listen.

LIVE AT THE JAZZ ROOM, AGAIN

APPEARING LIVE AT THE JAZZ ROOM, AGAIN

I’ll be back at The Jazz Room in Waterloo on Friday, April 8, when I play bass with The Andy Klaehn Group. Performance is from 8:30 to 11:30 p.m. and admission is $15.00 at the door. The Jazz Room is located in the historic Huether Hotel, 59 King St. North, Waterloo, Ontario. I hope to see you there.

LIVE AT THE JAZZ ROOM

APPEARING LIVE AT THE JAZZ ROOM IN WATERLOO

Don’t miss the The Bernie Carroll Project at The Jazz Room in Waterloo on Sunday, February 21st, from 4:00 to 7:00 p.m. The Jazz Room at Waterloo’s Huether Hotel is one of the finest jazz venues in the country. I’ll be playing bass with Bernie Carroll, an old friend of more than 50 years, back when we were two-thirds of The Barry Wills Trio. I’ve been back in Kitchener-Waterloo for eight months and I’m definitely looking forward to this concert with some of the area’s great musicians: Dave Wiffen (tenor sax), Dave Thompson (guitar), Ralph Hetke (piano), and of course, Bernie Carroll on drums. We’ve put together an energy-driven program of jazz standards along with original compositions. This is not to be missed. Advance tickets have been selling already.

Contact The Jazz Room, http://www.kwjazzroom.com/ for more information. Tickets are $15.00.

Moving On

Moving On

After living and working in the Quinte area of Eastern Ontario (Belleville and Picton) for the past 27 years, I am returning to the once-very-familiar territory of Kitchener-Waterloo in June. It will be an opportunity for me to reconnect with family and old friends whom I have gradually lost touch with through time and circumstances.

During recent trips to K-W in search of some roots and an apartment to live in, I have been amazed, not only at how the area has changed, but also how much of it remains familiar. A walk through Waterloo Park two weeks ago, where I once trekked daily on my way to work at the University of Waterloo, revealed the same animal compounds (different animals), the familiar rippling brook flowing beneath the footbridge (new bridge), the band shell (where I used to perform jazz on Sunday afternoons), and the “breaker-breaker” calls of scarlet cardinals.

I’m not naïve. I fully realize that one cannot go home again in the sense that everything will remain as memory dictates. Many changes have occurred. Downtown Waterloo is now Uptown Waterloo. Seagram’s and Labatt’s are gone and with them, the essence of distilling and brewing that once wafted along Caroline Street and down Dorset past our previous home on Spring Street. There are new and rejuvenated homes, museums, theatres, cafes, and galleries, and the library has been enlarged and modernized. Both universities have overflowed their previous boundaries and spread their presence into every nook and cranny of the city.

Those revelations represent only my renewed experiences within Waterloo. Kitchener remains yet to be rediscovered.

It is not the past that I’m seeking in K-W, but the present. I won’t even attempt to imagine the future at this moment; it pretty much takes care of itself.

Following moving day, I’ll be searching for old friends and creating new ones. Music, photography and writing (my three amigos) will draw me through alleyways and into bookstores, clubs, concerts, festivals, parks, the corridors of both universities, and anywhere else where people are interesting.

 Perhaps we’ll meet somewhere soon.