Phil Woods - Part 8 - The Smithsonian Interview

 © Copyright ® Steven Cerra, copyright protected; all rights reserved

In 2007, Phil Woods was awarded the coveted Jazz Master designation by the National Endowment for the Arts, the highest honor that our nation bestows on its jazz musicians. To date, the Smithsonian Jazz Oral History Program has interviewed 212 jazz subjects, including most of the NEA Jazz Masters. Ken Kimery is Director of the Jazz Oral History Program at the Smithsonian Institution (www.smithsonian jazz.org), and provided the technical engineering for Phil's recorded interview, which was conducted on June 22-23, 2010 by saxophonist Marty Nau.

“Perhaps the professor emeritus of bebop saxophone, as it has endured from one century to the next.”

- Richard Cook’s Jazz Encyclopedia

[MN]: Phil, one thing that impresses me about you is that you don't seem to be scared of this new technology that's out there. I've seen you embrace it. 

[PW]: Oh yeah, oh yeah.

[MN]: You did a CD-ROM years ago ... you write and arrange on it. 

[PW]: Yep.

[MN]: Can you talk about how much you like it?

[PW]: I had the very first Music Printer Plus, which was the first music program; it was an old DOS-based program. I got tired of having my sketches on the back of matchbook covers, and a piece of paper here and there. Now, I have all of my music in the computer, everything I've ever written, including my final exam from Juilliard. I've transferred all of my stuff into a computer, on a network with my wife - she takes care of all the publishing so we have it all, and we have backup, of course. Yeah! The Music Printer Plus that I was using, the DOS-based program, was built on a small [operating system], and as they kept updating it, it became top-heavy, it was too cumbersome. Then they changed and went to strictly

a Mac platform, they abandoned the PC, and they changed the name of the program and whatever.... I never got into using Finale because I explored the idea of Finale when it first came out and I remember going to Emile Charlap's office, which was the main copy service, and still is, in New York City, and I looked into the copy room where the guys were copying music. They had a music stand here with the score on it and a music stand here with five volumes of How To Work Finale [both chuckle].

So that's when I got into Music Printer Plus. And then, when that crashed I said, oh man, I'm gonna have to have to go to Finale. And they said, well, check out Sibelius. In Sibelius, you can download the program but it didn't save so it was useless. But you could learn the program. You couldn't really use it but you could learn the technical part of how to—. And I fell in love with it. So I've been a Sibelius user. I'm up to Sibelius 6 and the new Sib 6 is incredible from where they were in Sib 1. And they work closely with Yamaha. At one point, they ran a thing that if you bought a Yamaha alto you got a free Sibelius. So I'm kind of hooked up with both of those companies.

So yeah, I'm a firm believer in high tech. My son is really good at computers. He works for some big chemical company and does their in-house networking. He keeps me up to date on what's hot, what's not, what's good. He's into Mac but, as I said, I'm a PC guy. But I love it. As I said talking yesterday, I do my writing, my composing, at the piano as far as thematic material and what I want to do. 

Actually, when I compose a song, I might get an idea and it'll gestate. I mean ... I have a thing with my wife that I do. If she says, like, "Did you remember to mail that thing off?" I'll say, "Oh man, I was working on the rondo." "Did you remember to take the garbage out?" "Oh, I was working on my rondo." It's always the rondo, the never-completed rondo. "I know, honey, I look like I'm not doing anything sitting here but I'm working on my rondo.'' You know what I mean? So, one time we're driving, with my wife Jill, and Steve Gilmore is behind the wheel, and we're going somewhere and she asks me, "Did you remember to ..." I said, "Aw man, I forgot. I was working on the rondo." She said, "You know, you've been working on that goddamn rondo for 30 years" And Steve Gilmore says, "Oh, but Jill, you can't rush a rondo.'' [both laugh] You can't rush it. So, I was tempted, working on my book, to add a subtitle: My Life in E Flat or You Can't Rush a Rondo, [chuckles]...

Nevertheless, when I look like I'm not doing anything, I'm thinking about songs. I wake up in the middle of the night, just like in the movies. I carry a little booklet with me, with staffs, and I jot down ideas and stuff. But I get to a certain place in a composition and I can't seem to get over the fence. That melody just keeps going and then it stops and I can't get it, you know? The gestation period can go on and then all of a sudden "Ahhhhh, okay," then I go back to the keyboard and finish. Then, when I get from point A to point C or D or whatever it is, I go to the computer and orchestrate or further develop it. 

But a lot of it is just "Hmmm, what am I going to do here?" I love the process, but sometimes it's painful.

Something like "Goodbye Mr. Evans" took a long time to write. It's only [Phil hums] "da da da de da" and that's the whole song, it's just permutations of that motif. But it took a long time to get it of interest. And most of my songs have an odd number of bars. "All Bird's Children" is 43 bars or something, "Goodbye Mr. Evans" is 27. It's not eight-eight-eight-eight, the basic 32-bar form. It's not by design, it just happens that way. I kind of like the odd, to have it sound normal but it's really odd, you know? And now I'm quite aware that I do that instinctively, so I try to make sure that that's one of my signature things, that it's not a simple edifice. It's like architecture. Don't just square it, put a block here, block there, block there. Change it up. The element of surprise in any creation, I think, is really vital.

[MN]: So the technology ... 

[PW]: Doesn't scare me at all.

[MN]: ... doesn't scare you at all. 

[PW]: No.

[MN]: And it's kind of nice if you're in Europe or Asia and you don't have a part or something ...

[PW]: Exactly. Well, when I used to write it by hand, I remember sending arrangements to Spain and they got lost in the mail. And I was writing the music on the computer. But my son said, "Hey, Pop, you know you can send it by pdf." I said, "PD What?" And he said, come here, you know, and he turned me on to it. Now, in most of the music programs, you can write the score and the parts and then turn them into pdf files and just email them.

If somebody loses the fourth trumpet part, it's in the computer. Or, if the singer doesn't like that key, boom, I push one button and change the key and send it off and I never have to get out of the chair, [chuckles] I don't have to go to the post office; I don't have to deal with packages. It's a wonderful tool for a musician.

[MN]: You said something in your answer that made me think of this next question. When can we expect a book?

[PW]: Well, Ted Panken, who writes for Down Beat and is a very good writer, is working on it as we speak. I took it as far as I could and I have realized that I don't know anything about the book business. I mean, the record business is hard enough, but the book business is really--, getting it published and all that. And then I realized that I'm an amateur writer. I can tell a story, but--. So he's been working on it; he's not changing my words, he's just making it more readable. People who really understand literature, when they read my book, they can see the seams. It's not quite there, so I've got a professional guy who knows about that sort of thing, does the research, and knows how to make the timelines and not to have repeated words. Just small details that I'm aware of but I don't have the technique, the chops, to do myself. I took it as far as I could, so it's about finished. He's working on it and I hope to have it-- But selling it is hard, these days, and I don't know where we're going to go. I don't really care if I sell it because I'm not asking for any money for it. I just want to have it out there ... so it's finished for archival purposes, even if only my family reads it. It's my life and stories.

I was perched historically at a very important time: after the Second World War during the cultural explosion; getting to know Bird and Dizzy; I played with everybody. It's not that I'm so important, but it's important because of all the people I got to know and learned from. So, I wanted to share that and make sure it was documented. I figure after, when I'm gone, I know it'll be published. And my records will probably sell more, that's a reality. I mean, I hate when they say, "He passed away." No, he died. [MN chuckles] We're afraid of death, especially in America. But death is part of life and I'm not afraid of it or technical things. I'm more in the reality of existence, you know? I'm going to die some day so I'm making sure that my affairs are together. But I'm saving it for last. [chuckles] It's the last thing I'm going to do. [MN laughs]

But death is something we all have to face, and with our eyes wide-open and straight ahead. Yeah, you can die, man, so get your sh— together, man. From that point of view, I don't have any fear of it. But, I mean, every day I get up in the morning, I brush my tooth, [MN laughs] I look in the mirror, I give myself a round of applause, say thank you to whoever, I'm not a religious man but whatever, thank you, and get on with it and treasure each day. I know what I'm going to eat, what I'm going to have, I drink the best coffee in the morning from my espresso machine, I drink good coffee, I eat well. You know, I've got some little neck clams and tonight I'm having linguine and clams, that's what I'm going to make. That's my supper tonight, I've got that all figured out. I've got some prosciutto to start with, with a little melon. I mean, I don't drink much wine anymore, but I might have a glass of wine. I don't plan each day but I'm still aware of the sensual pleasures. I like to eat well; like, that sauerkraut we had yesterday, in that pork roast, that was good. I mean, it was simple diner food but it was five-star. But it was a good diner, not a junky one. So, I like that kind of quality.

I'm looking forward to the North Sea Jazz Festival. They had a cancellation so I'm going over to do the one-nighter. Then I'm supposed to open up in Paris but it's not until a week later. So they said, "Do you want to stay in Rotterdam? I said, "No, man, I want to go to Paris as soon as I can." And I'll just hang in Paris, man, because my French is good and I won't need anybody. I'll be by myself, and I'll have a nice suite. I will eat well, and I know where the restaurants are. I know what wine I want to have; I know what I want to see. I'll do the Bateau Mouche, which I always do; I'll go to Sacre-Coeur; I might even go up in the Eiffel Tower again; just visit old friends and just enjoy Paris. It's a great, great city.

That's one of the perks of being a musician when you've been around the block. I mean, I was in Paris in '59; I lived there five years. It's like my second city. Rome is a little too intimidating; I don't know Rome as well. But I know London, I know Paris, I know Frankfurt, I know Munich. I love Munich. Barcelona has become one of my favorite cities; Madrid not so much. But I have the cities that I know, and I really enjoy spending time and living their way, living the European way, I love that. And Japan, I love Japan. You get to know the cultures and feel comfortable with them. If you're afraid of traveling, you don't learn about other cultures. You might as well not become a musician. I mean, I understand. I've had players that are not really good at traveling, not good on the road, and that's cool. But I'm great at it. I've got chops, man, I've got chops.

[MN]: Why are you so good? Are you patient?

[PW]: I'm excited by the adventure of life, you know? I love coming home, my home is very comfortable. I mean, I just enjoy living, man. It's a marvelous gift and my health is--. I mean, I've dealt with prostate cancer, I have emphysema, I'm having bleeding ulcers, I've got cataracts, I have false teeth, but I'm still smiling and I'm still reading and I'm still eating and none of this is going to slow me down, man, you know?

I'm still playing. One of my favorite lines is, "Emphysema is nature's way of saying you've been playing too many goddamn notes." [chuckles] So now when I play I'm not as fleet a finger as I was when I was 24 but who is? I mean, as I approach 80, I can still play, man, because I have rearranged my breathing process, so I have to leave more space. But my music has become clearer to me because I have to pace it differently. You make adjustments; each decade, I think, is a process of evolution. As you grow, either to maturity or age or being slightly infirm, you deal with whatever you're dealt and try to make art out of it.

I really like these later years. Musically, I'm really playing better than I've ever played before, because I think it's more thoughtful, it's not so glib. I'm trying to be more direct, trying to get right to the core of what a note means. I'm not so busy and filling the air with what the French call "remplissage," which is like "the frosting." I want to get to the cake part, to what the frosting sits on. So, every day is a challenge. But I still love to play. I mean, I love to travel but I sure love to get to the gig; get off that goddamn airplane [chuckles] and just get to the gig and say, "Ahhhh, I'm safe now, on the bandstand - they can't hurt me here." The bandstand, that's a sacred place to me and I love being there. I love getting off the bandstand and getting back on the plane and coming home, too. I love the circle of life.

But you've got to keep moving, and my life is very rich in the fact that I'm still moving. I mean, I've been almost everywhere. I don't want to go to China; I've never been there but I'm not interested in China because the air quality would be very rough, I think, on my lungs. I have to be careful about that. I'm not interested in Africa or places that I'm not sure I can rent an oxygen machine. So, I have to deal with the Western civilization: I want the best room, I want nice clean water, I want an oxygen machine; you know, the comforts that I require. But within those parameters, I'm pretty good to go. Ninety per cent of the world is still my oyster.

[MN]: But, as you say, you're getting older. It's not for sissies, is it?

[PW]: No, but life is not for sissies. It's an adventure, it's the voyage, it's the journey. I mean, retirement does not interest me. That would assume that you've arrived. You never arrive. You do it until you can't do it anymore and then you die. Ciao. [laughs] But I'll be back! [both laugh]

[MN]: Well, I think a lot of people are going to be glad to hear you say that, that you've still got that passion at that age.

[PW]: Oh yeah, the passion. I think doing something you love to do keeps

you young. I mean, there are so many embittered sons of bitches that do a job they hate, you know? [Mimics a voice] "Can't wait to retire and then go crazy." I mean, my job gets better and better.

[MN]: So, while you're alive, you've been honored. The NEA [National Endowment for the Arts] has honored you.

[PW]: NEA, that's a great thing, the hippest club in the world, [chuckles] all my heroes. Yeah, and they helped me. I just completed my Children's Suite - NEA gives you a nice fat check and I used my check to buy my plasma TV and I used it to produce The Children's Suite which is a piece of music based on A. A. Milne's poems. I took the money that I got from the National Endowment for the Arts and put it into the art of my music. I didn't want to buy a new car. I mean, I wanted to buy a nice entertainment unit, state of the art, and I wanted this piece I wrote 40 years ago finally realized. A. A. Milne and Walt Disney, I had a lot of trouble dealing with Mickey Mouse and all that. But, finally, I got permission to do the piece.

The NEA, like I said ... it's the government saying that jazz is okay, and I think it's great. Finally, you know? We're not the cultural barbarians that people paint us out to be, and the NEA is a great example of that, that they honor jazz artists. Yeah. God bless them.

[MN]: Well, I saw a performance of your Children's Suite a couple years ago at the Sherman Theatre here in town and it was wonderful - big band arrangements, acting, singing.

[PW]: We just did it in New Orleans, it was very successful. The NEA helped me take it on the road, so I'm hoping to do more of that with the help of my government. That's neat.

[MN]: Excellent. Welt, Phil Woods, in closing ... there's a jazz book I was reading through, maybe back in the eighties or the seventies, that had a little bio on everyone in the jazz world. And when it came to Phil Woods, at that particular time, it described you as a force to be reckoned with. I say that, now almost 79, you are still a force to be reckoned with.

[PW]: Well, God bless you.

[MN]: So, it was an honor to interview you.

[PW]: Thank you, man.

[MN]: If there is anything you'd like to say in closing ...

[PW]: Well, you did a good job, and I'm honored that the Smithsonian is doing oral histories of the jazz masters. I think that's a great thing. Archivally, I'm a part of American history, that scholars and young people and old people--, and if you're interested I'm sure it's going to be online, the information about who you are and what you did. So, it's not so much about how many records you sold or how popular you were but as an artist you have a place in American history and for that I am forever grateful.

[MN]: And we are too as well. Thank you, Phil Woods. 

[PW]: Thank you.