Music, Quality, and Pipes

In the novel “Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance” the late Robert M. Pirsig writes about the protagonist experiencing a string of bad results from a motorcycle repair shop that caused more damage than was originally evident. He noticed the rock and roll music playing in the shop on his first visit, and describes his thinking after finally deciding to take his cycle home and work on it himself:

“The radio was a clue. You can’t really think hard about what you’re doing and listen to the radio at the same time. Maybe they didn’t see their job as having anything to do with hard thought, just wrench twiddling. If you can twiddle wrenches while listening to the radio that’s more enjoyable.”

I have always found Pirsig to be spot on in his observations on quality, and I highly recommend this book. His other novel “Lila” is equally good, but a bit too dense for most tastes. “Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance” however is highly readable and will change the way you think about quality. Despite my admiration, I do have a minor quibble with Pirsig on this point. The music he was writing about was loud rock music and certainly does more to distract than focus thought. It’s the sort of music you want on a long drive to take your mind off the boring task at hand. But I also find that the right music (or other auditory background) can help me focus my thought on the task at hand. When I’m working in the shop, the radio is tuned to jazz, classical, or baseball. I find that these are conducive to quality work, and admit that this might be highly subjective. Likewise, when relax and smoke a pipe I sometimes listen to the radio, and it is one of those three tuned in as I light the bowl. Music pairs with the pipe just like a well chosen drink.

I’m not one of those classical music nerds that can rattle off performances and notice subtle differences between conductors. I can maybe recognize 10 classical pieces and name them on hearing, and there are probably another 10 that are familiar but I can’t quite place. Everything else is just pleasant background. Of course rock and other genres can be equally pleasant, but the music does not resonate with me in the same way. Classical music evokes emotion without thought. If listening to rock or bluegrass (a guilty pleasure of mine) is like watching a movie, listening to classical is like living the moment, but on a purely emotional level. It does not crowd your mind with a story, but leaves room for thought. Many years ago, one of my high school teachers told me the following, Bach taught us the art of music, Mozart taught us joy, and Beethoven revealed the voice of God. It’s a bit of an overstatement for sure, but that is the sort of passion that good music can evoke in a man. And many late winter evening have been spent with a pipe in one hand, a book in the other, and Beethoven whispering revelation in the background.

I’m also not a stereotypical jazz fan. My interest in jazz stems back to listening to “old time” radio with my grandfather as we drove back and forth to the beach in the summer. He loved music of the 30s and 40s, big bands and crooners. It was that music that first got inside and made me want to listen. My first “earworms” were Artie Shaw and Glenn Miller at a time when kids my age were humming the Carpenters and Three Dog Night. As I got older, I discovered Monk and Coletrain, Davis and Brubeck, and like all good men learned to dislike fusion and “modern” jazz. Live jazz is a completely different beast. It is a whole body experience as you feel the music and watch it move from one player to the next as the theme develops. I first experienced this in a Pittsburgh jazz bar with pipe in hand (those were the days) listening to a group led by charismatic drummer Spider Rondinelli who sadly passed away last year. I must admit that I tend to be a bit more distracted by background jazz music, sometimes needing to turn it off to really focus on a task. Likewise, I need to be in the right frame of mind to pair jazz with a pipe. But when the stars align, good jazz, a favorite pipe, and a quality beer can provide a most enjoyable evening.

Baseball is another story all together, maybe a future blog entry. We’ll restrict this one to music as I make preparations for my (mostly) annual trip to the Montreal Jazz Festival. It was at this festival that I first experienced jazz from other cultures, like the fascinating Israeli drum and brass ensemble Marsh Dondurma.  Not my typical pipe smoking music, but so full of life.

Montreal is where I saw Ariane Moffat breath new life into a Simon and Garfunkle classic during an amazing live tribute to Paul Simon.  Still not music I would typically pair with a pipe, but so very good.

And it was in Montreal where I saw Dave Brubeck perform for the last time just a year before he passed away.  He had to be led to and from the piano, but when he played it was perfect.  I’ve burned through quite a bit of tobacco with Brubeck playing in the background.