Jazz

Before concluding this short tour of fifties aesthetics, I should mention that among my climbing friends I was alone in my love of jazz, even though in my mind the two forms of expression have a lot in common. Both test the ability and imagination of the individual within the context of a supportive group. Ad-libbing a solo is like going out on the sharp end of a rope. Although the soloist usually works within the context of a set of familiar chords (keeping in mind the great number of variations on, for example, the standard blues changes), and the climber can see that he is confronted with a crack or a dihedral or series of small holds on the face, neither really knows what he has to deal with until he gets there. The details of each line, whether melodic or granitic, are unique and often require unique solutions found in the moment under pressure. The personnel of both jazz groups and climbing teams is often in flux. Sometimes a group is fronted by a strong and well-known leader, but often (and to my mind, ideally), the group or team is a congruence of equals, each able to take the lead but also willing to provide supporting roles when necessary. And in both climbing and jazz, the membership of groups and teams shifts depending on the job at hand, largely because both are ultimately games that individuals play. Duke Ellington knew this, and even in the context of his juggernaut of a big band, he wrote parts not for trumpet or tenor sax but for Cootie Williams or Paul Gonsalves (and especially Harry Carney). I think that is why jazz groups are almost universally identified by some player's name in contrast to the names of most rock groups. The best climbing and the best jazz also both have a very deep relation to dance. There are other parallels, but ultimately our brains organize sounds in a place different from the sites that deal with the pleasure of physical movement, and so there seems to be no direct connection from one to the other.

"I was actually walking around to like several clubs every night till the sun came up, sitting in at jazz clubs just learning. I was really the only one that would go into these clubs with an electric bass, because these were like, you know, places that played exclusively bebop. So I got some funny looks for quite some time. But it was a priceless education."[5]

At the start of 2009, Wilkenfeld toured Australia and Japan with Beck, who commented in an interview; "It's interesting to have some amazing players in my band like Tal, who is about, you know half, a quarter of the age of either Vinnie or me. She's a genius. She will pick up mistakes that we, even Vinnie and I, miss. So she's a great anchor as well."[8]

In Sting's 2017 interview with Bass Player he recalled: "With Tal it was very funny; we were doing an event in Las Vegas, and we were playing an Aerosmith song—I forget the song—and it was kind of a complicated bass line. And Tal came over and said, 'Sting, it’s not quite the way you’re playing it' [laughs]. I really respected her courage to come up to me and teach me the right way to play the part, and I was very grateful. She’s an amazing bassist with great ears." [12]

Smoky nightclub, hot date, mixed drinks, all dressed up....what an era.