Waxwing
This interview with Peggy Lee, Jon Bentley and Tony Wilson was conducted by email during February 2015.
Tony Reif: When and how did the three of you first get together (at that time as Wilson/Lee/Bentley)? What was the impetus behind forming the group? Was being in a trio and the particular intimacy/complementarity of trios something you were all looking for, or was it more that the three of you felt a close musical connection and wanted to pursue it (what were your connections before the trio)?
Peggy Lee: I got the ball rolling with this trio in 2006.I hadn’t played with Tony in quite a while and was missing that a lot. I was also interested in collaborating with Jon as he had been very supportive of some of the projects that I was involved in and I had a good feeling about what we could do as a trio. The small group thing was intentional as both Tony and I were leading larger groups and I felt that it would be a good challenge in terms of the writing and the playing, to pare things down. From the start it was meant to be fully collaborative, no leader.
TR: Take us through a brief history of the group, how the music has developed and also how personal dynamics have affected the direction the music has taken. Where did the name Waxwing come from?
PL: Our first record, Escondido Dreams (Drip Audio) came out pretty quickly after the group was formed, within about a year I think, and we had a few nice gigs locally. This time Jon initiated the process that lead to the recording of our second album and the new name.
Jon Bentley: My recollection is that we first starting playing music together as a trio in 2006 and we were fortunate to receive a Canada Council grant to do our first recording in 2007.
The name change to Waxwing was my suggestion because I noticed a lot of confusion over the years with people not really knowing how to identify the band. People would say things to me like: “You know that band with you and Tony and Peggy? When are you playing next?” or “I really enjoy that CD you did with Peggy and Tony in that group…. I forget what it’s called.” No one knew what to call the trio. As well, numerous times I had the question posed: “Wilson/Lee/Bentley… what’s that? A law firm?”
As for the name Waxwing, it seemed like a good fit for a few reasons. Waxwing refers to a bird that is somewhat common in the Vancouver area called the cedar waxwing. For many years I have been drawn to this bird because of its striking design and pattern set. It is a bird that seemingly always travels in small groups and it has a lot of character. Its mohawk-looking head feathers and the black stylized band around the eyes give it a bit of a sinister edge. Much of my artistic inspiration comes from experiences in nature so I liked the connection to something natural, which is reflective of the organic quality of the music we create.
TR: “A bowl of sixty taxidermists” is a quote from the late Vancouver saxophonist and pianist Ross Taggart, to whom the record is dedicated. Jon, you and Ross were close, and you’re playing his soprano sax on this record (though mostly you’re playing tenor). His Globe and Mail obit gives a good idea of his importance to the Vancouver jazz scene:
Tell us about his friendship/mentorship, and the ways it has influenced this record (and the context of that quote!). Tony and Peggy, what was your connection with Ross? Also, I note that most of the compositions this time are yours, Jon, and you got a Canada Council grant for composition, so was it always the plan for this record to feature more of your composing?
JB: I think that most professional musicians are grateful to some key people who were instrumentally supportive through their early development stages. For myself and many other young musicians, Ross was one of those people. When I was just starting out and going to hear all the professionals play in Vancouver, Ross would always take the time to introduce me to the pro players, letting them know who I was and what I played. Ross gave me some saxophone lessons at various points through my Capilano University days and he was always very encouraging and helpful, never holding back any knowledge he had obtained. He even invited me to his house a few times to play duo, which was an amazing gesture considering the experience level difference between us at the time. Later on, Ross and I ended up playing in quite a few groups together professionally, with him playing piano and saxophone. I played saxophone in Ross’ quartet for a while (he played piano), various big bands where we both played saxophone, and he played piano in a group that Bernie Arai and I co-led called Ugetsu, which did a fair amount of playing locally and out of town.
When Ross was admitted to the Palliative Care Unit at Vancouver General Hospital, it was during a time when I was writing music every day to fulfill a Canada Council composing grant. I was living right near the hospital so I would go there on a regular basis to bring him some home cooked meals and try to lift his spirits if I could. So even though it wasn’t originally planned to be this way, much of the music that I wrote for A Bowl Of Sixty Taxidermists was reflective of my experiences witnessing Ross go through the struggle that he did.
When Ross passed away he left me his soprano saxophone, which is a very special horn to me. It is an excellent saxophone, but more importantly it has a lot of personal meaning when I play it. Not to sound overly sentimental, but I kind of feel like he’s along on the gig when I bring that horn to play, like he’s still part of the scene. Ross was a very funny guy too, so I often catch myself laughing out loud suddenly when something happens on the gig that I know Ross would have found humorous.
The explanation of the song and album title “A Bowl Of Sixty Taxidermists” is a story that definitely impacted me. As I previously mentioned, I would go and visit Ross in the hospital, as did many other people who were wanting to do what they could to help ease him through his final days. One of his friends named Joanne went in to see him one afternoon. When she arrived in his room, Ross had been sleeping and he awoke when she entered. Joanne approached his bed and said “How are you doing Ross, can I get you anything?” Ross paused momentarily and then replied: “Yes actually, I would really like a bowl of sixty taxidermists.” Later that day, Joanne sent out a great email to his friends explaining this story, thoroughly entertained by the creative brilliance of what he had said, and it is something that has stuck with me ever since. Ross was an extremely, imaginatively colourful person and there is something about that phrase that really reminds me of him. Even though Ross was half asleep at the time, and no doubt influenced by a lot of pain medication, there is something about that quote that is uniquely him.
PL: I knew Ross and was fortunate to have a couple of opportunities to play with him and to enjoy his incredible warmth and generosity. His passing affected the whole community tremendously, much like when Chris Nelson went. Huge losses, both of them.
Tony Wilson: I knew Ross for many years, since the early ’90s. Wonderful person and musician. As I get older of course some of my friends move on. It’s hard to see them go. Other than missing his music, I’ll miss Ross’s humour. Super funny guy.
TR: A lot of the pieces on this record are quite short, some almost miniatures, and several are faded out. Concision of statement seems to have been an aim, and in some cases a more “orchestral” sound via overdubbing. And much (though by no means all) of the music has a reflective, gentle, even nostalgic/peaceful quality – as befits a memorial? (A memorial also for Claude Ranger, the great jazz drummer who disappeared in 2000, in your piece, Tony, “For Claude”.)
JB: My preference these days is to perform a larger number of shorter pieces as opposed to a smaller amount of longer pieces. Longer pieces that go to different interesting places can work really well too but either way I am definitely interested in concision of statement. As a listener this is what I prefer, so I think that has become a part of my music creation process. Conceptually this approach somehow seems more reflective of the era that we live in.
TR: Are there any interesting stories or references behind other song titles?
JB: “Gone” – When I heard the news that Ross had finally succumbed to cancer, it was still a shock even though it was expected. I quite literally went right to my piano and in an hour or two after hearing the news I had sketched out the last song on the album, titled “Gone”.
“Thicket” – I composed “Thicket” after I made a terrible mistake misidentifying a what I thought would be a short cut while out for a solo hike in the woods on the Sunshine Coast. It was a late afternoon walk with my dog in the winter and I attempted to cut through the forest from one established trail to another. Even though I was familiar with both of the trails, I had not tried to bridge them this way previously. I was using a satellite image map on my phone as a guide and the plan was to access a clearing that was visible in the image to join the two trails. As I slowly worked my way through the forest I soon came upon a dense amount very sharp and thorny blackberry canes. The sun was setting and the temperature was dropping so I started to get a bit nervous since I couldn’t figure out why I wasn’t able to find the clearing as I went deeper and deeper into the blackberry snares. After repeatedly checking the map I then suddenly noticed that the image I was using as a guide was actually from four years previous and I was indeed now standing in the middle of what used to be the clearing, now overgrown with blackberries. The canes were literally impassible for going any further forward and I realized I would have to turn around and retrace my steps through the thorny maze. I knew I would have to do this at a much faster pace, as darkness was setting in, so I decided it would be faster to bash my way out using a large branch that I found. As I swung the stick violently up and down trying to quickly clear a path through the blackberries I caught one of the canes on an upswing, wrapping it around the stick and all in one motion it simultaneously slid down towards my hands, catching my thumb and slicing it open. The blood and panic started to flow, and I now had to use my one good hand to keep pressure on my other bleeding hand. At this point, trying to go too fast and without hands to use for balance, I made yet another error by slipping and falling into a small but very dirty and icy bog. Panic fully set in at this point. Near pitch black, temperature dropping rapidly, bleeding, and soaking wet. I managed to refocus and stay somewhat calm as I retraced my steps very slowly and methodically. Eventually I made it back out of the forest, gratefully stumbling out onto a road. It was a long and cold walk back on that road, and the experience stays with me about how careful you have to be out in the woods. The song “Thicket” reflects the sentiment I experienced that winter day while caught in the nasty blackberry overgrowth.
“The Owl Of Crowston” – Not to be confused with the classic Paul Motian composition “The Owl Of Cranston”, my song “The Owl Of Crowston” is a composition about a barred owl that I used to observe near my house on BC’s Sunshine Coast. At the end of Crowston Road in West Sechelt there is a walking trail through the forest where I would regularly see a beautiful barred owl perched on the same branch. I used to stand and watch the owl for some time until one day it was gone and it never returned to that spot. Shortly after, I read in the local paper that the BC government had approved both the culling and relocating of the barred owl population in an effort to save the endangered northern spotted owl. The spotted owl is endangered partly due to the invasive and aggressive nature of the barred owl, but many experts ascribe the drastic decline of the northern spotted owl to the disappearance of their preferred habitat of old growth forest. I often wonder about the fate of that amazing owl and if it was a victim of the new tough policy on barred owls.
TR: How would you compare A Bowl of Sixty Taxidermists musically to Escondido Dreams?
PL: I don’t know that there’s a big difference stylistically between these two records. I think we have a pretty unique sound as a trio. The instrumentation obviously is fairly unusual and we each have recognizable sounds on our instruments.
JB: We certainly have logged many more hours playing together as a trio since that first recording. We have also gained much experience individually over the past eight years both in our personal lives and our musical lives. I think these additional experiences translate to the new recording, but that is a tough thing to quantify explicitly.
TR: Where would you place the trio’s current music-making in relation to the mainstream jazz tradition, the classic jazz avant-garde of the ’60s, European free improv, classical chamber music, singer/songwriters and pop music – and your other music?
JB: Hopefully right in the middle of all of it. I enjoy listening to and playing most types of music, and for me ideally all of the influences get mixed together in a jumble to form a unique and interesting hybrid output.
PL: I’m not super interested in placing this group in relation to particular movements in music. I feel that we all have many influences but what happens through the writing and the working together feels very organic and honest.
TR: Tony, you’ve developed quite an interesting and different guitar style, what can you tell us about it and about your influences as a guitarist and composer? I imagine I can hear free improvisers such as Derek Bailey and Fred Frith in there, but there’s also a strong folk influence. And when I watch your fretting hand during solos, the sequence of chordal patterns the fingers are making often just looks unusual, as well as the music sounding unusual. Is there a musical system that has guided your explorations into non-standard harmonic combinations, or has it been more of an intuitive and even physical process?
TW: I started playing the guitar when I was 19, started by learning blues songs off records. Several years later I went to Malaspina College in Nanaimo for one year, where I learnt to read and write music and studied mainstream jazz. While I was there I discovered 60s free jazz, Albert Ayler, Coltrane, Pharoah Sanders etc.as well as new classical music, 12 tone theory, Benjamin Britten, Bartok and Messiaen. When I started playing professionally I played Greek music in restaurants and started doing casuals at the Hyatt Hotel and other places. At the same time I formed Video Barbecue and was playing free music with Roger Baird, Danny Kane etc., and started to develop my compositions based on all these experiences. I played in r&b bands as well during that period. As far as guitar players go I have loved many but my main influences were Sonny Greenwich and Grant Green as well as Frisell. I’ve played many kinds of music in these last 30 years and I think my style is a hybrid of those experiences.
TR: Where do you all see Waxwing heading in the near future, and what are your ambitions for the group?
PL: More playing in the future hopefully. I think that a tour is the necessary next step.
JB: The response to our first record has been quite positive over the years so hopefully people will also enjoy listening to this new album. As far as ambitions for the group, it would be great to get the music out there to as many people as possible and most importantly new opportunities to play and grow as a group.
TW: More gigs!