Val & I had the pleasure of seeing Ralph Towner last night at the Regattabar. It was a wonderful experience. Attending his concert reminded me Guitar Player's interview of Ralph in their June issue. Check out the link to read the full article. Here are some excerpts:

Guitar Player: Despite your obvious virtuosity, you manage to keep the focus on the emotional quality of the music in your performances, rather than on technique. How is that accomplished?

Ralph Towner: It happens by listening to other great musicians, and having that happen to you. For example, you never think about Miles Davis as a great trumpet player, but he had a way of playing that was totally full of shapes and incredible emotions, and he was always very purposeful when he would play a phrase. It’s also about not making a circus out of it. You have to be able to play the guitar so well that it doesn’t seem like it’s difficult. The ultimate thing would be for people to not worry about whether you can play or not. But people like sporting events and the sport of playing an instrument in a way that draws attention to something that is perhaps less musical and not necessarily transcendent.

GP: Speaking of Miles, you began as a trumpet player. In what ways does that experience affect your guitar playing?

RT: Playing a wind instrument makes you aware that the actual phrase is dependent on the physical nature of the player. Fundamentally, you’re dealing with breath, and quite often, mechanical instruments like guitar and piano that you play without breathing can make some pieces of music sound pretty lifeless. Another important thing about playing a wind instrument is the tonguing. Some guitarists sound kind of lifeless because all their notes are the same length, as if they’re speaking in a monotone without pausing. Part of expression is using all the note lengths in between a short staccato and full decay. I’ve incorporated that more speech-like quality into my playing, and I feel that has a tremendous effect both on the music and the audience.

GP: You are renowned as an improviser who creates pieces entirely spontaneously, as well as within the context of a musical framework such as jazz. What is involved with that process?

RT: You’re really composing music on the spur of the moment, hopefully with the same content you would get if you were sitting and carefully writing a symphonic piece. And that is really what a good improviser is: a spontaneous composer. You have to know your harmony and scales and all the nuts and bolts, but use them in a way that doesn’t seem too difficult. In fact, if an improvisation is good, people won’t know if it’s written or not.

GP: Is there anything you can do to help facilitate that?

RT: You have to split yourself up a little by putting yourself both in the seat of the listener—so you’re hearing the music unfold—and in the seat of the person who is actually making the sound and the gestures. It’s also important not to try to prove anything, because that always backfires. Even if you can carry off some flurry, it doesn’t necessarily belong in the piece. You’re really committed to say something purposeful and intentional and leave it at that, and not get tangled up in unnecessary embellishment.