Keith Jarrett: How I Create
An interview with pianist Keith Jarrett
Web Specials Archives
interview by Keith Goetzman
Pianist Keith Jarrett is one of the jazz world’s most prolific and ambitious artists. Lately he has been devoting himself to three pursuits: solo improvisational concerts, gigs with his jazz trio, and classical performances, including an ongoing series of Mozart concertos with Dennis Russell Davies and the Stuttgart Chamber Orchestra. Jarrett’s newest recording, La Scala (ECM), was made at his February 1995 solo concert at Milan’s famous opera house. Writer Keith Goetzman spoke with him about his creative process.
RELATED CONTENT
Drawing on her Sierra Leonian background for an uplifting story about a child soldier, Moses, Citiz...
Two decades of life with the odd little newsletter that grew up...
15-year Utne veteran assumes top editorial post...
The Silk Road, known as the “Hippie Trail,” changed the world in ways that haven’t been fully appre...
Once Miles Davis asked me, “How do you play from nothing?” And I said, “You know, you just do it.” And that actually is the answer. I wish there were a way to make “I don’t know” a positive thing, which it isn’t in our society. We feel that we need to “know” certain things, and we substitute that quest for the actual experience of things in all its complexity. When I play pure improvisation, any kind of intellectual handles are inappropriate because they get in the way of letting the river move where it’s supposed to move.
To do an improvised concert—this includes the La Scala concert and every other time I walk on the stage and play from zero—I need to find a way to start the journey without creating the subject matter in my mind. In other words, I cannot have a melody or a motif in my head, because those things will protrude into the fabric. They will be too prominent and make the music seem like a solid object rather than a flowing process. I have to not play what’s in my ears, if there’s something in my ears. I have to find a way for my hands to start the concert without me.
Something in my awareness tells me what I should do moment to moment before the concert. Every situation is different—the dressing room situation, the social situation, what I eat. These are all big, big things, not insignificant details. If I have, say, an eight o’clock concert, and the audience is not in the hall at eight, I’m capable of losing my timing. I’m aiming this arrow at the event, and I’m divorcing myself from anything that’s the wrong thing. If someone says, “It’ll be 10 more minutes,” it can be really horrible. My whole psychology can change.