Interview with Shai Golan

It was yet another pleasant mid-November day here in Southern California when I made my second of what seem to be fairly regular journeys down a bustling shopping place in Westlake Village. This time I was awaiting another ferocious and young innovator of jazz, a nineteen-year old alto saxophone player by the name of Shai Golan. I met Shai at a tiny and famously high-energy club in LA called the Baked Potato at the end of this summer. Upon introducing myself, it became immediately apparent that I was not only in the presence of an extraordinarily talented individual, but one of great humility. Naturally, while pondering future victims of my ongoing journalistic experiment, the thought of Shai's personable character and engaging musical ability made him next up on my list.

Shai was born in Israel and moved to the United States at the age of ten. He attended El Camino High School and is currently a second-year student at the California State University at Northridge (commonly referred to as CSUN). He presently holds the position of lead alto saxophone in the school's top jazz band: the revered CSUN A Band. Shai was accepted into the California All-State jazz band in high school, and proceeded to lead a first place-winning combo at last year's Reno and Monterey Jazz Festivals.

What were some of your early influences?

I grew up in Israel where I took piano lessons. I can remember my dad taking out his saxophone from time to time when I was much younger, and I always thought, “That’s so cool!” When we moved here, I realized that music was offered in public schools. They didn’t teach piano but they offered woodwinds, so I decided to pick up my dad’s old clarinet. In middle school I got into the saxophone, and that’s how it all started.

What propelled you into jazz?

My middle school, really. I was a member of the jazz band and again, was incredibly enthusiastic to be a part of something so exciting. I had never thought about solos or even improvisational music before that. Surprisingly enough, what really got me into music itself were the Beatles, Jimi Hendrix, Led Zeppelin and Pink Floyd. I would listen to these rock bands and feel so stimulated, so moved by the music. I would put the Beatles on repeat, play along with my saxophone and then improvise over the melodies. I got really into jazz around the end of ninth grade when I began studying with a teacher who opened up a lot of possibilities for me. I remember hearing Charlie Parker for the first time and thinking, “Yep! That’s what I’m doing.”

What are the most influential aspects of the music program at CSUN?

The faculty and my colleagues, definitely. When John Daversa was here, I was able to go out to lunch with him whenever I wanted. Gary Pratt and I go out to lunch all the time, and just the other day we did a duo together. Everyone on the faculty loves the students and wants to see them excel. It’s not simply a teaching gig for them—their lives revolve around the growth of their students through their teaching. You learn so much in that environment, and it’s such a positive one as well. I’ve noticed that other schools have a much more competitive atmosphere, where the kids won’t jam together or even act as equals. But at CSUN, we’re always motivated to get better in a positive way. Everybody here is an artist, and is able to respect everybody else as an artist. There aren’t groups, like “this group plays like this and this group plays like that”—no. Everybody plays with everybody else, and because of that you always feel a sense of love and support. The best players at this school jam with freshman all the time, which is great! We’re constantly learning from everyone else. It’s a very special place to be.

What has been the most important aspect of your musical education?

I’ve been fortunate enough to have had incredible teachers. I’ve studied with Josiah Boornazian, Michael Mull, Gary Pratt, John Daversa, Rob Lockhart, Katisse Buckingham, Matt Harris, Gary Fukashima, the list goes on and on. One important thing that I learned from Josiah was that, more than being a musician, I want to be an artist. I want to be an artist—and an educator as well—but an artist who always looks for what’s next, always looks for a new sound and his own sound, and new ways for that sound to be carried. An artist is someone who is able to incorporate tradition into what he is doing now. Look at Miles Davis, for example. At my age he was playing with Charlie Parker! In today’s terms we would say, “Well, that’s it! He’s made it.” But he didn’t stop. He was one of the renovators of cool jazz, hard bop, modal jazz, fusion, and avant-garde. He pioneered all of these new ways of playing. Imagine if he just stopped at bebop! The music right now would be so much different; I don’t doubt that at all. That’s the state I want to be in—constantly shaping the music, constantly exploring new forms of expression.

How do you feel about entering into the professional world not too far from now? 

I’m pretty confident; I’m already doing what I love. My professional goal is to be a teacher, so I plan on getting a master’s degree, a D.M.A., and pursuing a career in education at the collegiate level. Aside from that, I see myself performing, composing, arranging, and producing. Many people have their doubts about entering this industry, but a well-rounded artist—one who wants to learn and wants to succeed—will prosper. Anybody can do it! Being a lawyer is the same thing: you go through years of schooling, years of preparation, and enter the real would just to encounter countless other lawyers who have just spent the last decade doing exactly the same thing as you! However, if you work hard to achieve a high level of professionalism, you’re going to be the best damn lawyer in the world.

Now that you bring that up, why do you think people completely separate artistic careers like music and more common careers such as law practice? 

Well, it’s interesting— many the same aspects apply to both. The difference, at its very core, is that music is an expression. There is no right and wrong with music. But in a court case, you’re absolutely right or absolutely wrong; you win or you lose. But you never win in music! You’re never just done. And that’s very abstract for some people. A musician is always learning, always growing, always going through the process of improvement. But being a lawyer is much more concrete; you reach a certain level of professionalism and the only thing left to do is to uphold that. People separate the two careers because it’s much easier to picture a lawyer hard at work in an office than a musician in his seventh hour of practice in a basement. But if you apply the same ethic to both careers, you will be successful.

What aspects of the academic world are so attractive to you? 

I really want to share my knowledge and experience with others, and have them share their knowledge and experience with me. That’s what teaching really is. You’re able to learn so much from your students. Teaching forces you to put into words the information you already know, therefore helping you understand and exercise it better, as well as your student. I’d love to be one of the pioneers of education—that’s definitely far-off goal of mine.

What are some things you have learned from your students?

A lot of it is on a personal level, really. The obvious is how to teach. You learn how to get a point across, but you also learn about people and personalities. No one learns when they’re frustrated; something happens and suddenly there’s a mental block. I’ve learned how to get through that block, and not even encounter a block at all. Plus, if it’s something like long tones or scales, you’re constantly evaluating the sound, which is beneficial to both you and the student. Learning to analyze other people’s playing facilitates the ability to analyze your own. You will always be your own best teacher, so teaching others helps you know what you need to work on.

What two fruits best represent your playing style and why?

I’ve never related my playing to fruit before!  (Chuckles) God, I’m trying so hard relate musical concepts to fruit! Okay, well I would have to say the flavor of strawberry-banana. No two flavors work better than those two together. It’s sweet yet tangy, and thick yet smooth, you know? I can have a strawberry-banana smoothie any time of day.

What do you strive to communicate through your playing?

Simply put, love. I love the sound, I love the feeling. I love how music is able to convey my emotions in a way that words cannot. And it’s not always compassion that I’m aiming to express, no; it could be happiness, anxiety, or maybe I’m not in a good mood at all. Whatever it is, I’m able to let it out. It’s like going to a therapist’s office to vent about your emotions. No matter what those emotions are, you always feel better after freeing them. And for that reason, there’s always love and respect in my sound—a level of comfort and understanding that I try to communicate to my audience.

What advice would you give to young players thinking about going into music?

If you’re going into music, the most important thing is to love it. You really need to feel like, “Well, this is it. I have to pursue this.” For me, I knew that was what I wanted because I enjoyed every aspect of it: practicing, rehearsing, performing, teaching, etc. So that’s the number one thing. If you’re thinking about going into a career in music, then you probably already love it. If that’s true, then love it more. John Clayton said this: “If I’m having surgery, I’m going to find the doctor who loves being a doctor.” Who else would you want working on your heart? The guy who says, “Okay, let’s get this over with,” and cuts you open? No, not a chance! It’s almost too simple to understand sometimes, but simply loving what you do is a critically important step in choosing whether or not to pursue it as a career.

How would you say that jazz is affecting its audience right now?

Jazz has always, in some way, affected its audience. There has been a huge spectrum of change in the lifespan of jazz; you have your fast and driving bebop, and then you have this mellow cool jazz, transition into modal sounds and followed up by avant-garde. What that means right now is that jazz isn’t confined to a certain direction—it’s actually going in many directions, and affecting a large group of people because of that. I went to see Tigran Hamasyan last night, and the majority of the audience was not jazz-based. His music is a combination of Armenian folk music, rock, and even metal—it’s incredible. It’s worlds away from Cole Porter, or Benny Goodman, but it’s still categorized as “jazz.” You also have people like David Binney, Chris Potter, and Alex Sipiagin who are practically creating another school of music all on their own. All of these people are changing the face of jazz and reaching out to more and more people. The audience for jazz is definitely still there, and it’s following all of these inventive new artists and their content. For me, if I play a show to a hundred people and one person is moved by it—he feels it deeply, emotionally—then I’ve done what I set out to do. Music is all about communication, and the fact that jazz has taken so many divergent paths only allows it to move all kinds of people. And for everyone it’s different—different individuals get “that feeling” from different artists, different genres, and different variations of “that feeling” from that same artist even. But everyone has the propensity to feel that way. We have all experienced it. You’re sitting there and bam, it happens—suddenly someone else’s emotions are part of you, evoking this wild but intimately personal response. That’s why jazz is spreading; that’s why music in general is spreading. Anyone can understand expression, can understand tradition and background. It’s very primal, but at the same time very powerful.

How do you incorporate your Israeli background into your identity as a musician?

It’s not so much a matter of trying to express my background as is it inherently there. It’s much more of the melodies and folksongs I heard growing up than me thinking, “I’m going to compose an Israeli-style harmony now.” It’s the sound that I know, that I hear, that I feel—and it’s always there.

Is jazz a popular music in Israel like it is in America and some European countries?

Not a popular music, no. There are very many talented Israeli jazz musicians, but once they get good enough it’s bam—straight to the States. There just isn’t a crowd for it Israel. But then again you have artists like Avishai Cohen, Gilad Hekselman, and Eli Degibri who have been reinventing the music here, and it’s quite beautiful. There is one school for jazz in Israel, in Tel Aviv. It’s very strongly affiliated with the New School in New York, so it’s constantly sending students there to do residencies and participate in exchange programs. It’s a wonderful dynamic.

Interview with Danny Janklow

It was a quintessentially beautiful early November afternoon in Westlake Village. With iPad in hand, I laced up my Vans and walked myself down to a nearby coffee shop, grooving along to Ben l'Oncle Soul on repeat the whole way. Shortly after sitting down, a young, brown-haired alto saxophone player in a T-shirt and funny blue pants approaches me and says, with great enthusiasm, "Mackenzie! I just came from yoga!" Seeing Danny Janklow again definitely brought a smile to my face, especially when he repeatedly attempted to fix his hair in the window of the Starbucks. I met Danny two years ago at the Stanford Jazz Workshop, a summer program to which I attribute the root of much of my current enthusiasm for music. I was a student, and Danny was part of the prestigious two-year Mentor Fellowship program in which he was essentially taught how to teach jazz to kids, as well as get a chance to play with the incredible faculty. Lucky for me, Danny lives and gigs around my area, and I have had the pleasure of seeing him perform at Bogies on several occasions. With my journalistic experiment still in the making, I thought that Danny would be a good guinea pig for the first in a line of interviews I plan on conducting. It would be an understatement to say that I was blown away by the evident ardor and diligence that this hungry twenty-four year old musician exhibits. Walking home amidst the regular mid-day bustle of Thousand Oaks Boulevard, I felt like I had gotten a glimpse of what jazz is to become in pending decades. And I must say, I very much liked what I saw.

Danny grew up in Southern California, attended Agoura High School and graduated from the Boyer College of Music and Dance at Temple University in 2011. Since then, he has been playing around Los Angeles and participating in various domestic and international competitions. Danny won the North American Saxophone Alliance Competition in Athens, Georgia in 2010 and the Detroit Jazz Festival in 2012. He also received a nomination as a semi-finalist in the Thelonious Monk International Saxophone competition in Washington, D.C. in 2013.

What were some of your biggest influences as a young player? 

Let's see, as a young player . . . I think my biggest influences were Cannonball Adderly, Charlie Parker, and then, when I got more into things, Johnny Hodges, Ben Webster. Then I got into the more contemporary things like Joshua Redman - he was really big - and Chris Potter. Those were the guys.

Have your influences changed at all?

Yes, definitely. A lot of things changed when I started studying with my teacher Dick Oatts. My approach definitely changed and became more unique to what I was hearing. Musically, I think I've been able to open up and appreciate a broader spectrum of music and incorporate a broader spectrum of music into my own sound.

Lots of high school kids appreciate music but never have the discipline to practice. When you were a teenager, what drove you to keep playing/practicing?

There's a theory that someone mentioned to me - I think he was quoting someone else - that if kids want to practice, they have to believe that they're good. For me, I definitely felt like it was something I was naturally inclined to do. I did other activities - I did karate for a long time, and other sports, too, but nothing ever came naturally to me in that same way. When I picked up music and began making improvements, when I first moved someone musically, those were all inspirational things to keep on practicing and getting better. And, even though it was hard and got very frustrating at many, many points, it kept being more rewarding than anything else I had done.

What are some aspects of being a musician or obstacles you have faced that you never expected as a young player?

Well, let's do negative first. Obstacles . . . financially, being able to support yourself and do it in a way where you're constantly doing something that you enjoy. That being said, there are other obstacles in the business side of things. See, things are never simple. There are things that happen with players, say this guy is in your corner for a long time then gets a better gig, or bails out. You learn a lot about people through the music. You learn about their loyalty to you, to your music, and their ability to make changes. Flexibility. Those are some very general obstacles that you face, especially being a band leader. As far as the positives go, I never expected that the music would already take me so many really, really cool places. I've been able to meet some incredible people and work in crazy cool venues - that's been awesome. Some of my best experiences have been on stage.

I've heard from other professionals that being a self-employed musician actually leaves little time for doing other things like, ironically, practicing. Would you agree with that?

I depends on what level of self-employed musician you are. To some extent, yes, but it really comes down to how much time you're willing to make for it. You have to do what you have to do to support yourself financially, so that means that you're teaching, traveling, touring, you're doing all of these things that aren't putting a horn in your mouth or mallets in your hands. You have to balance your regiment while doing all these other things. And the business part of things is extremely time-consuming: you have to self-promote, you have to get people together, you have to work on projects. And these are all things I'm just getting into. Even with the help that I've received, mostly from my father, it's still a lot of work.

What two fruits are most closely related to you playing style and why?

Two fruits (laughs)! Let's see . . . I like the kiwi. The kiwi is interesting. It's kind of sweet and sour. It's got a mystery too it because it's all fuzzy on the outside, but then when you peel it it's all ripe and juicy and beautiful. I also really like the mango. It has a very joyous and festive energy to it, you know?

On your album Recurring Dreams you included the song "Isn't She Lovely?" originally by Stevie Wonder. How do you feel about the fusing of jazz and more popular forms of music?

I love the idea. I think that's what jazz originally was: fusing improvisatory ideas with the popular music of the time - Broadway standards, opera favorites. I feel like we get a little lazy doing that, arranging, trying to reach popular audiences now. But there are plenty of beautiful songs to cover, anything from the Beatles to Michael Jackson. There's a lot of popular music that's really good and I think it helps to reach people who aren't comfortable yet listening to instrumental music that they don't know the repertoire of. There's definitely a barrier there. It's important to give people something that they know, or even a vibe that they understand like something funky or a shuffle - anything that can bring them into what you're doing. If you're going to play a set of all original music, you run the risk of alienating a lot of people unless it's a very, very accessible set of music. Playing one or two songs in a set that are just comfortable, or even three or four depending on who you are, could really bring the listeners in. And I don't think it's selling out, I really don't. It's caring. It's doing something unselfish. I think that a lot of modern jazz is coming from a very selfish place, and I've felt that for a long time.

Jazz has long been regarded as the "people's" music. Would you still consider that true today?

It's the people's music if you make it the people's music. It's not going to be the people's music if you play it for yourself. If you come at it with an attitude of sharing and giving energy and celebrating all aspects of life, then it can be the people's music. But it's not always like that.

What are some things that you strive to communicate through your music? 

Oh, there are a lot of things. It's constantly changing, really. As I grow older, I've come to realize different things and want to communicate different things. It ranges from celebrating unity to being able to inspire a larger consciousness in society - a growing awareness of where we are and where we should be going, not simply where we are going, which is not where I agree we should be going. I want this to be more of a social music. I'm working on an identity of bringing people together in a way that they can really share an experience that's not just about the music. It's been so long since the days of Duke Ellington and Benny Goodman and the days when the music was an experience, a night when you could go out with your man or your girlfriends and meet men. Now it's like, okay, I'm here just to experience some dude share all of his harmonic knowledge with me in an hour and a half, and I leave either really inspired from this person's technical abilities, or I leave cold. And for me that's not the way we should be approaching the music at all. It should be like, I go, I have this experience, I want to go buy this CD, I want to come back next week. It should be a party! It should be place where people your age [teenagers] can go and have a good time instead of you going with your jazz friends and studying the music. It shouldn't be that serious! It's never supposed to be that serious. So that's the outlook I'm adopting, and definitely something I'm trying to show through my playing.

What would you like to accomplish that you haven't yet, or are working on? 

I'd like to somewhat change the image of what jazz is, especially in our generation. So many times I'll be asked, "Oh, what do you see as a performer in a club?" and I say that I see sixty-five year-old couples sitting there with a bottle of wine. But why is that? Why do people think that old people sitting with wine and a cut of veal is what jazz is? I want to change that. I want to create a hipper, younger vibe and encourage people to come out and not feel like they have to be limited to this predetermined image that has been perpetuated through so many years of media coverage, and our parents, and our grandparents. It's corny, really. It's been played out for so long and it's just corny. Wynton Marsalis used it as a catalyst to bring back straight-ahead jazz in the 80's through the Young Lions. That was a nice attempt, and it worked in a sense - it got a lot of educational opportunities happening, which I was a part of as well with Essentially Ellington. But this backwards thought process is not to going to get our message to the younger generation. As we're depreciating the music, the audience is shrinking, the audience is dying, and the number of people [listening to jazz] in your generation - in our generation - is not growing. So in order to really make a difference with things, getting back to the original question, we have to make serious changes. So that's one of my goals.

You've chosen to stay in LA for work instead of instead of heading east to more populated jazz scenes like New York City. Why is that?

I really believe there's a lot of potential in LA. I think there's a lot of potential for growth, I think there's a lot of potential for commercial accessibility to the music. New York seems really, really awesome in a lot of ways - there's a lot of jazz musicians who listen to jazz musicians there, there's a lot of jazz students there, there's a lot of jazz happening, a lot of people playing it and studying it and being all about it. But there's not a lot of capability for growth in reaching a more commercial audience and reaching people who don't know about jazz and should know about jazz. And, in a way, the name "jazz" is it's own worst enemy, so that's why I'm not in New York on the jazz scene. It's a very interesting place to be now. I think in the 80's it was a lot different, in the 90's it was a lot different. Things are a lot different in New York now. It's near impossible to be in New York for x amount of time and actually make a living playing music. You either have to get a teaching job or you have to be touring. In LA, there's a lot more opportunity to be working in the city and to be teaching. The city is so vast that there are places where you can play, in and out of the city, and not have to travel that much. I'd love to travel, but I don't want to make it so that I have to go on the road for eight months in order to meet x amount of rent and not even experience New York. That just doesn't make any sense to me. And that's the way 99% of the jazz scene is in New York. It's a sad reality. But LA has a big influx of people coming from New York and other places that want to make a difference and elevate this scene to a different level.

There are a lot of creative opportunities here and a lot of opportunities to expose the music in ways that I think are necessary in times like this. The music right now is it as at a very pivotal crossroads. We have so many legends dying and it seems like the only time jazz makes it into the headlines is when Frank Wess dies, or Cedar Walton dies. That's not a good sign. But you have some hope in the Esperanza Spalding's, the Robert Glasper's, taking crossover methods and all that. There are lots of different avenues to take at this time because people are frustrated in the jazz world and they need something to happen. But for now, I'm getting a lot of work here, so I'm just going to stick it out and enjoy it. That's the long-winded answer (laughs).

Describe some of the changes you want to see happen on the jazz scene.

I was talking to John Beasely about it recently, and he said that a big part of what is missing is the dance component - say, inviting out a foxtrot dance team, because there are people who like to dance to swing music. I'm working on adding a dance component at my gig at Bogie's by possibly clearing a space for people to be able to do that.

And it brings up the question, why aren't there more women in the jazz world? And I don't think that they feel intimidated by it, it's that they feel like they need a man to bring them. Creating opportunities for women to more get into jazz is something I've been thinking about a lot. Why is it that the only time you see a woman at a jazz club is when she's with her husband or boyfriend? Why don't you see women go together and just have a good time? It used to happen back in the day! It's all about the vibe we bring to the music. We're just taking it way too seriously.

Can you talk about your experiences teaching through the Monk Institute?

I do a couple of combos a week with the Monk Institute. I have one combo that's at a pretty basic level and one combo that's very advanced for high school. I try to encourage both to learn the music to the best of their potential and really get into the specifics. But a common remark I'll make is that you can't take yourself too seriously. You still have to have fun, and that's why a lot of kids don't practice when they're young - they have a teacher who is really strict, and the kids don't see the reward in it. But you can get that reward playing four notes on your instrument or playing all the notes really fast. You can always enjoy yourself through music.