Essay

Introduction

Modern improvisation often demands the performer transcend their traditional education and reliance on the rigid structures to create unconventional music. This often requires the performer to disregard functional harmony, standard metres and idiomatic phrasing. That is to say, to learn the art of truly free improvisation, one may have to in a way unlearn habits they have developed for other musical styles. This paper is a reflection of my learning journey thus far on the Extended Improvisation module, documenting the process of shifting from a typical jazz-centric approach to one rooted in feel, personal dynamic and deep-listening.

Using a methodology of retrospective video analysis, this submission will detail the development of myself and the group over the course of a term. It will focus on three different stages: the deconstruction of habit and reflection on new techniques and existing repertoire, the implementation of restraints for the purpose of developing new techniques, and the latest synthesis of these efforts. I will make reference to existing works I focused on during this process, such as Sonny Sharrock’s ‘Black Woman’ and Chris Forsyth’s ‘First Flight’, two records that approach improvisation from different backgrounds. By studying these, I was able to rationalise the chaotic features of earlier sessions and return to them with purpose. Ultimately, this paper reflects on the collaborative nature of group improvisation and the process of replacing arbitrary moments with those of intent.

Deconstructing The Habit

Early weeks of the module were characterised by a tension between my existing musical vocabulary and the requirements of free music. Derek Bailey, a pioneer in the free improvisation movement, discussed in his book ‘Improvisation’ the two primary approaches to improvisation: idiomatic and non-idiomatic. Idiomatic improvisation involves expression within the established identity of a particular genre, whereas non-idiomatic improvisation aims to defy genre conventions. Earlier sessions were marred by arbitrary attempts to break out from the idiomatic mould, largely because the foundation of intent had not yet been formed. This often resulted in a return to idiomatic phrasing as a comfort zone. Numerous times it was clear that ego played too large a factor in a style that demands one check their ego at the door.

During the first two sessions I was mostly interested in feedback, spending most of the improvisations with my guitar leant up against the amplifier whilst I twisted knobs, experimenting with the sounds it produced. My general focus was on providing an atmospheric foundation for the music, often leaning into drones and changing settings to adjust with the intensity I was listening out for. In one of these sessions, I brought in a drum delay pedal but found it a struggle to create a sound cohesive with the group. From this perceived failure I retreated back into the idiomatic jazz language I had learnt during my time on the jazz course.

Reconstructing My Approach With New Techniques And Reflection

Upon reflection, I found that the issue with my feedback and delay machine experiments was that it lacked intent. By comparing my efforts to the works of two of my larger influences – Sonny Sharrock and Chris Forsyth – I realised that I lacked the patience of Forsyth and the intent of Sharrock. Whilst I would aimlessly twist knobs hoping to find a sound that made what I was doing make sense, Forsyth would allow the textures of the music to develop for minutes at a time, often remaining on one sound for a long period of time before changing. On the other hand, Sharrock utilises screaming feedback during the intense sections of the music, driving an emotional narrative as the music rises and falls. These techniques contrast with my early approach, where I was simply just filling silence.

I understood that I needed to replace my nervousness with patience. To facilitate this, the group played various improvisation games, exercises where limitations were imposed to make us think about what we were really doing.

In an exercise focused on reducing the tendency to fill silence, the restriction was imposed whereby only two instrumentalists could play at the same time. This exercise was successful because it encouraged listening and playing with intent. Limiting the number of players meant that the group could not just rely on the textures of a large ensemble performing together, exposing each of us so that each note wouldn’t just disappear, but be fundamental to the sound of the music. This encouraged us to see the value in negative space, understanding silence as a dynamic feature in its own right. This helped me to understand the balance between reaction and real-time composition.

Complementing duos exercise, the group played a game focusing on binary constraint. The rule imposed was that the group must either play short staccato notes until one of the performers played a long note, at which point the remainder of the ensemble must immediately match this transition, developing the music to create a new texture.

The results of this can be seen in the accompanying documentary (at 00:00). In this clip, another musician shifts from short staccato phrasing to an approach emphasising sustained, dissonant tones. Recognising the cue, you can watch in real time as the group shifts in their approach to complement this, creating a dissonant, droning texture. This demonstrates an important development in my listening abilities and sense of musical coherence. Instead of continuing as I was, I recognise that this is a moment to embrace the shifting dynamics of the piece and give way to my peer to direct the direction of the music.

While structural constraints helped to improve listening and ensemble cohesion, development of non-idiomatic language remained lacking. What was necessary was to develop true conversational intent, from which cohesive musical dialogue could take form. For this, we practiced mimetic improvisation, focusing on imitating real-life scenarios and translating that into music. Whereas previous exercises required strict adherence to imposed limitations, this was to encourage free yet thought-through self-expression.

As I reflect on the session, I recall a key barrier to the success of the exercise was mindset and not technical ability. This was an exercise that required the musician to open one’s self up in a way atypical. The room felt disjointed as we approached the scenarios in an uncomfortable manner, as if we were meeting a new person for the first time and had that nervous energy about us, which perhaps may have actually been the case. One wants to portray themselves to new people as a serious individual, and it takes nerve to embrace potentially looking silly. Perhaps it’s that as improvisers we are trained to display composure, and displaying performative vulnerability felt averse to that.

Listening to the music of Sonny Sharrock helped me to understand the use of musical instruments to mimic human expression. Sharrock once described his approach to guitar as him finding a way to make the instrument sound like a human voice. Whilst his note choice can appear erratic, it is his absolute commitment to achieving that end that makes him sound as if he is projecting a scream through his guitar. Through applying this philosophy, I came to understand the value of playing freely, committed to pure human expression. In the accompanying documentary (at 04:08), I can be seen aggressively hammering against the strings of my instrument, doing my best to channel my interpretation of the approach Sharrock brought to his music.

While these mimetic exercises helped to unlock the raw emotional aspect of the music, the ensemble also needed to focus on sustainability. A scream provides an impactful climax, but is difficult to sustain and develop without running out of steam and collapsing. To address this, we spent time working on motific development, introducing the use of riffs to create structures within the improvisation.

For this exercise we focused on introducing the use of riffs not as a permanent song structure, but as a temporary meeting point where we could coalesce before developing the music further. I was familiar with this idea due to my background in psychedelic rock, where riffs often serve the same form as a jazz head, before developing into extended group instrumentation. This can be heard in the works of guitarist Chris Forsyth, who employs repetitive figures in his music as jumping-off points for further musical exploration. This helped me to understand the riff as a textural device within a larger piece of music. I began to employ this technique to establish holding patterns the group could converge at and organise before ultimately deconstructing.

The practical application of this technique can be observed in the accompanying documentary (at 00:48). By this stage in the performance, the music had become meandering and the momentum was slowing down. Recognising this structural void, I introduced a repetitive phrase. Crucially, I did not alter my phrasing for some time, allowing the rest of the ensemble to coalesce around the idea. This was effective because it provided a clear harmonic centre for the group to align with, transforming a moment of potential disjointedness into a moment of driving intent. This demonstrates my ability to shift roles within an ensemble, such as from soloist to composer, employing structures that aid the band’s collective improvisation.

Synthesis and Conclusion

The final accompanying documentary serves as the primary evidence of the ensemble’s development from a disjointed group to a cohesive unit.  By applying the techniques discussed in this paper, the video shows the integration of the exercises into real music performance. A critical analysis of the video displays a collaborative dynamic that was absent in earlier weeks of the module. The ensemble can now be seen exploring elements of human expression (as demonstrated in the works of Sonny Sharrock) and hypnotic patience (as demonstrated in the works of Chris Forsyth).

I have long been interested in long-form improvisational music and I believe this module has fundamentally changed aspects of the mindset I bring into the music. I have long relied on idiomatic safety nets (whether they find their foundation in rock or jazz), viewing improvisation as an opportunity to display my technical proficiency. I have since developed the understanding that improvisational music is not anchored by technical ability, but by a strong sense of the music being played and the on-the-fly compositional aspect of it.

By deconstructing my idiomatic habits, I have developed new language rooted in timbre, texture and intent. While the struggle to truly let go and bare one’s true musical identity to others remains an ongoing challenge, I am realising the more I am able to do so, the better the end product will be. The methodology of retrospective analysis has demonstrated that free music is not an aimless process of twisting knobs and playing random notes, but a deliberate exercise in group cohesion and expression.

This ethos is on full display during the last section of the documentary. There is a moment where the vocalist and I synchronise on a repeating phrase. In previous weeks, moments of cohesion like this were rare, with different musicians hesitant to step on anyone’s toes. In this moment the hesitation is gone and the group gradually builds up a raw human scream in the form of music, demonstrating the emphasis on structural integrity, the patience it takes to get there, and the intent to deliver on the final crescendo. When the drummer raises the intensity, the group submits the direction of the music, matching the intensity as a single unit. Utilising tension to drive the music, we show that we have successfully replaced the nervousness of previous weeks with a newfound sense of collective intent.

Documentary

Bibliography

Forysth, C. (2020). First Flight. [Album].

Rua, V. (2015). Improvisation & Error. Wrong Wrong Magazine. [online] 7 Jun. Available at: https://wrongwrong.net/article/improvisation-error [Accessed 12 Jan. 2026].

Sharrock, S. (1969) Black Woman. [Album].