Joe Lovano: Touring the World of Music, Many Horns in Hand

Joe Lovano’s love of music — and of the instruments, particularly saxophones, that he makes it on — transcends, if not prevents, any effort to link him to a particular kind of music. Introduced during his youth in Cleveland to modern jazz by Tony “Big T” Lovano, his saxophonist father, the younger Lovano began performing on tenor and alto horns and on clarinet with both organ trios and big bands, after attending the Berklee College of Music in Boston in the 1970s. In smaller ensembles, he collaborated with Third Stream patron Gunther Schuller and with such progressive visionaries as Ornette Coleman, Paul Motian, and Bill Frisell, as well as with fellow saxophonists, including Dave Liebman, Michael Brecker, and Ravi Coltrane. In 2008, Lovano replaced Joshua Redman in the celebrated SFJazz Collective, and he returns to Northern California later this month for the American premiere of a chamber piece composed for him by Mark-Anthony Turnage. The multi-reedman spoke with SFCV from a summer tour stop in Rome.

What are you playing for them over there?

I’m touring with my quintet, Us Five, doing music from my last two recordings, Folk Art and Bird Songs [Blue Note Records]. We’re doing the major festivals here in Europe, including the North Sea; one here in Rome; and one in Merano, Italy. Then we’re going on to Dinant, Belgium, where I’m hosting five days of a festival I helped program, in the birthplace of Adolphe Sax [who developed the saxophone in 1846]. Each night is real different and special. [Performers include Lovano’s wife, singer Judi Silvano, and saxophonists Steve Grossman and Charles Lloyd.] Us Five will feature a double-drummer configuration, with piano, bass, and myself on woodwinds. Outside of just the tenor saxophone, I’m playing a G mezzo-soprano sax and a táragató, a folk instrument, kind of a hybrid of a clarinet and a soprano sax, which has got a beautiful, earthy sound; in Hungary and Romania, it’s the instrument of choice for the gypsies. And I’m playing a new instrument that was just made by François Louis, who’s from Belgium. It’s called an aulochrome, and it’s a double-soprano saxophone that you can actually harmonize on.

So you’re dealing with a lot of different fingerings.

You have to teach yourself how to do these things, you know? And kind of meditate on the sounds and tonalities that are in the instrument. And as time goes on, you start to be able to be expressive on ’em. You try to develop a sound that goes beyond just the tone of the instrument; your sound is a way of playing. The left-hand fingering on the táragató is saxophone fingering, the right hand is an Albert-system clarinet, and it has open holes, like a clarinet, so it has its own voice.

What about the aulochrome?

It’s a woodwind instrument you can harmonize on. Rahsaan Roland Kirk [1935–1977] played two horns at once, but he had to play with one hand on each horn. He couldn’t play a line and harmonize it freely. Whereas this instrument [the aulochrome] has one keyboard down the center of the horns, and each key is split in two parts [keying each of the instrument’s two horns]. There’s two octave keys also, so you can split tones. There’s a whole world of music in there.

Did your dad guide you in developing your sound?

I’ve embraced all the generations of music, and have grown with it. I live in the world of music. Oh yeah, for sure, and a lot of that was standing toe-to-toe with him and trying to blend with his sound. And being aware of the multi-instrumentalists from his recorded library. Then, as a teenager, the first time I heard James Moody play in a room, or Sonny Stitt or Gene Ammons, Rahsaan Roland Kirk too, I already knew their sounds from records, so then all of a sudden to be in the room with them and really hear it, it was like, man, a revelation! There’s something you feel in your body, different from listening to a record through speakers. The range of the way people play, the subtone qualities, the dynamics, things like that.

And you saw things.

First of all, the way everyone’s not only playing what they’re playing, but they’re playing it because of what someone else played. And the joyous kind of interaction. And Sonny Stitt, switching from alto to tenor on the same tune, or throughout the set, also sent me into the woodshed [that is, to practice]. I went and got a flute the next week after I heard James Moody.

Aside from your multiple instruments, I’ve always admired how comfortable you seem sitting in on so many kinds of music.

I think that through the years I’ve embraced all the generations of music, and have grown with it. I live in the world of music; I don’t separate so many things. It’s about being as expressive as you can, and developing a way of playing with the multiculturalism. And also the multigenerations. And I have to credit that to my dad, as well, ’cause at an early age, I was taken around by him and was sitting in and playing with people in his generation. My dad was born in 1925 and grew up in the modern jazz-bebop world; he was the same age as Coltrane and Miles [Davis] and Stan Getz. So I was comfortable playing with musicians in his generation when I was 15 or 16, and when I got the [big band] gig with Woody Herman, when I was 23, I was comfortable. I played at Carnegie Hall, stood and played my part next to Stan Getz, and was not only thrilled to be there, but wanted to support him with my sound, trying to blend with him. [Pianist] Hank Jones was 82 or so when we first started to collaborate, and he sounded fresh as a daisy, because of his approach and deep love. If you really live the music and you treasure the relationships, then new music happens all the time.

If you really live the music and you treasure the relationships, then new music happens all the time. Have you picked anything up from hip-hop?

I like some of the different grooves that happen, but I feel like I’m a soloist, so I’d like to play on top of that. To me, it’s background music for something I’d put something on top of. I grew up with Motown, the Beatles, and the Rolling Stones — that was my generation — but I wasn’t hearing in that music anything that was capturing my imagination so much. But I dug the tunes, and I played all those songs, I was in bands playing Motown, with horn sections and all that. But because I was digging Miles and folks like that, I could step out front and solo, even in some of those funk bands I played in as a teenager, around Cleveland, stepping out front and playing over vamps. It was fun, and it makes you realize, when you’re playing music, it’s a joyous experience, no matter what it is.

Having served in so many ensembles, what was the SFJazz Collective like?

The way it’s organized is so nice, where we each would do an arrangement of the composer of choice. [During Lovano’s tenure, the Collective showcased jazz composers Thelonious Monk, Wayne Shorter, and McCoy Tyner.] And we would each contribute an original composition. The high level of execution and musicianship was just phenomenal, and we would have a lot of rehearsal time. You got paid for your music and your contribution, and the touring was fantastic; we played in Europe and all over the U.S. I’m really proud to be part of the legacy of the Collective, and I look forward to taking part in some alumni events.

What’ll you be doing [on July 29] for the Carmel Bach Festival?

That’s gonna be amazing, man. Mark-Anthony Turnage, who studied with Gunther [Schuller] at Tanglewood, wrote a beautiful chamber music piece for me, for chamber orchestra and tenor saxophone, called A Man Descending. It’s gonna be placed in the middle of a Vaughan Williams symphony, No. 3, and it’s kind of an answer to Williams’ A Lark Ascending. We’re just gonna play it as written, with some open cadenzas. I’m also doing something interesting with the Monterey Jazz Festival’s National High School All-Star Big Band, and I’m real excited about playing as a soloist with them. And we’ll be at Stanford, as well [Stanford Jazz Festival, Aug. 1].

Joe, you’re so wonderfully generous.

Well, I’m gonna have to run now. I’m doing a workshop at 7 tonight, here in Rome, and you got me thinking about some stuff I’m gonna touch on.