Yosuke Yamashita

Yosuke Yamashita is one of the rare Japanese jazz musicians whose name is a household word in his native land. He is also one of the few to establish himself as a well-respected jazz pianist in Europe and the United States. This popularity is more remarkable given the uncompromisingly avant-garde style he adhered to. After riding the crest of 1970s free jazz movement, he has released over forty recordings, and played on countless others. Not content with Tokyo, he went to New York in the 1980s and quickly became recognized for his powerful keyboard attack and interesting musical ideas.

Since then, he has toured, and recorded, in Europe, the United States, and Japan, with no sign of let-up. While most musicians' homepages have a central list of achievements, Yamashita has a list of important events for each and every year since the 60s. His concerts in Tokyo are consistently full, and he often plays with younger musicians who were not even born when he first gained attention.

In addition to free jazz, he is one of the few Japanese jazz musicians to incorporate Japanese elements into his music on a consistent basis. With the release of 1990s, "Sakura," a wonderful adaptation of traditional Japanese melodies to modern jazz improvisation, Yamashita's blending of cultural elements came to maturity, and has continued to be an important theme in his work. He has continued that with the release of this years' "Ken-Kon" DVD with taiko Japanese drum master Eitetsu Hayashi.

If he is proud of all this, it doesn't show through his disarmingly humble manner. He was happy to chat away after sinking into the chair of a coffee shop inside Shibuya's Cerulean Tower complex, near the jazz club JZ Brat, where he would be performing that evening with a group of twenty-something musicians a third his age. Yamashita's extensive experience touring and consistent accomplishments recording and performing are a striking contrast with the puckish laughter that punctuates his talk and the mischievous way he tells anecdotes.

You often mix elements of traditional Japanese music into your jazz. Why is that?

Ten years ago I made a CD, "Sakura," that was jazz with Japanese melodies. In the free jazz era, I was deeply into free jazz and only free jazz. I had a Japanese group then, but after it broke up, I went to New York on my own. I wanted to try something new and create a new identity for myself. I was a newcomer and strongly felt the power and history of jazz there. So, I wondered how as a Japanese I could participate in the history of jazz. Even though I was very much a devoted free jazz player, I wanted to try something new. Of course, I also wanted to do something from myself. I knew all these Japanese melodies.

So, once there, you thought of home?

Yes, but how could I express that in jazz? I started to think of Japanese instruments, such as the shakuhachi and shamisen and think of how that might translate to jazz. I was working with a piano, bass and drums trio, but wanted to put Japanese feeling into that format.

Even now, you continue to use Japanese melodies and feeling in your jazz. Every set, you still include some element.

Yes, why is that? I'm not sure exactly. Jazz is an American music, but I'm not a Japanese who wants to become an American. I always feel like a Japanese.

The "Ken-Kon" DVD you just released, setting your piano together with taiko drummer Eitetsu Hayashi is a wonderful blend.

That was an excellent experience for me. The nice thing about that is the hint of what wonderful things might be. I started to have faith in being able to make my own kind of music that isn't exactly jazz form.

The improvisational aspects though are very much like jazz.

Right, the improvisation is from jazz. What I'd like to do now is to have a full orchestra of Japanese classical musicians, especially with wadaiko drummers, with their tremendous musical ability, who are able to improvise like a jazz orchestra. I am always aiming for something that I am not quite sure I can do. It's a challenge, but something I want to try.

You almost never play in the same setting, a chamber jazz group, young students, a free jazz trio, now the wadaiko drummers, it's never the same. Is that to constantly have a challenge?

That's right. However, for many years, I've had almost the same Japanese trio, and since 1988, I've had the same New York trio, which has released one recording a year since then. So, really, that's my jazz core. I feel secure with those trios at this point. If I just had the jazz trio, it would be enough for me.

But still you want to do many different types of music?

Very much so. If I only stayed with jazz the way it's expected to be played all the time, then maybe I would feel it a little constraining, though I wouldn't give that up. I always want to do something more unusual, because that's just what I feel like doing. I just want to make music spontaneously.

Does that feeling come from your free jazz roots?

Exactly. That of course is free jazz, but it really means to always change the music and to compose as you play. The composition is less important than the playing. I've come to think more like that.

When you first went to New York, what was the most difficult thing for you?

The difficulty was to find musicians who believed in me. Cecil McBee knew about me, so that was great. But (drummer) Pheeroan akLaff didn't know about me, but we had heard about each other. I wanted them to know that I was not just an orthodox musician, but could play with many different approaches. That was how I carefully found the right people. By doing that, it went well, with those two.

That trio always really sounds together, really tight.

That's been almost fifteen years together this year, so I'm really happy. More and more, we understand each other even better, so I'm really pleased. That is to say, the team understands each other and listens to each other very well. We have a relationship of trust so we can answer each other easily, and there's a lot of depth there. They let me know when my playing becomes too simple or ridiculous.

Yes, but you always have a playfulness and looseness. It never seems like work.

It never feels like work, but of course, everyone has that feeling from time to time. You have to stick with it through the difficult passages. With this trio, though, I go to New York every May as we have agreed to record every year. So, I'm always thinking ahead about what I'm going to do, or not do, this year. I'm always wondering what will make things go well this year. So, it's always the feeling of it being great, and here we are again. So, when we get together, I'm always waiting for their reactions, which always makes it go well. That's just how it was with them from the very beginning. The first time we had a rehearsal and went to play at Sweet Basil's in New York, the customers were obviously delighted, and I was surprised it went so well.  I was thrilled, of course, because it was my real start.

So, you lived in New York a long time at that point?

No, I never lived there. I only went there to record and perform, though often for extended periods. Before that, in 1985, I went by myself to travel around the America. I also went to Europe because there were a lot of wild free jazz players there at that time. Even though the playing was especially intense, it was well received, surprisingly. At a jazz festival in 1974, I played and following that, at the Berlin Jazz festival and other places around Europe. It wasn't until 1979 that I went to America, to play at Newport and New York. I didn't record until 1985 really. I traveled from New Orleans to New York, stopping in St.Louis, Chicago, Kansas City, all the cities famous in jazz history. Every place, I pounced on the chance to play something.

I'm from Kansas City.

At the Musicians Mutual Association, set up to honor Charlie Parker, I had a great jam session.

Now, they have a great jazz museum there, with money from the Charlie Parker Association.

I'd love to go back.

You have always had an interest in the history of jazz?

By myself, I've always tried to learn a little of it on my own. For example, in Storyville in New Orleans, I played in a club. There was a great jam session in Kansas City, and in Chicago and St. Louis, too. At last, though, I made it to New York and played solo piano there.

At that time, was it unusual for you as a Japanese jazz musician in New York?

There were always Japanese jazz players there, like Toshiko Akiyoshi and Sadao Watanabe. It wasn't that unusual, but it was a good experience.

Even now, you are constantly touring.

That's right. But at that time, when I went to New York, I had the chance to play solo in between Art Blakey's sets. Just by chance, a writer for the New York Times, Jon Pareles, really liked my playing, and wrote a nice review, so it was really lucky.

How are European and American audiences different for you?

Europe is much like Japan, they readily recognize American jazz as an art form more than American audiences maybe. In America, since New York is really the home of jazz, in New York jazz clubs there is always a lot of pressure. When I played at Sweet Basil's, three blocks away Jackie McLean was playing. That was really difficult! That's New York.

In Japan, free jazz always has had a mixed reception.

It's about the same as in Europe and America. There are people who love free jazz and some who hate it, and plenty of others that only want to hear standards. In Japan, when I play free jazz, it's almost always OK for most people. In the 70s, there were also people who played free, but it felt very intense. As for me, now when I play a free jazz number that's really wild, I follow it up with a ballad. So, people can feel like there is this kind of music and that kind of music that they can listen to. I try to get a balance. The time when I would exclusively play free jazz through the whole set is over for me. However, I'm also clumped into the free jazz style, so I always naturally play something of that sort and improvise in that way. But, instead of just staying inside that kind of jazz, I want to use free jazz to convey the kind of jazz that I want to play.

You have also written several different books.

My books are entirely jokes. I wrote about musicians' stories and things that happened to me, almost like a tour diary. I only write about strange and unusual things, and never anything serious. I included essays about friends' experiences or odd experiences, but also included things about my family ancestry. My mother played the piano, and she encouraged me, but that was about it for music roots. Actually, my grandfather was an architect and designed a prison in the Meiji era. It was a magnificent piece of Western style architecture, made of stone and brick. When I found that out, I was completely surprised. Why would he build that? My great-grandfather rose in the ranks of the samurai and was part of the revolt against the Tokugawa government before the Meiji Restoration in Kagoshima. With the revolution when the shogun was overthrown, the government needed prisons. That was fascinating, so I wrote about it. I don't think it's had any connection to my music, though.  Some people who read the essays think I'm an amusing writer, but won't come and see my live shows. I tell them to come and hear me play live, but they're satisfied with reading the essays.

Haven't you written anything about jazz and teaching, since you always seem to mentor younger musicians?

In fact, yes, I have written one book about jazz. Also, I did a series of lessons about music on television. As a guest professor, I teach a class in jazz at Senzoku University. The trio I'm playing with tonight graduated from there. I'm not there everyday, but just four times over the school year. I give lectures, but sit down to play in the middle of them. I also invite guests to play together with me. It's interesting, though, because the young people now all ask me to play free jazz. It's surprising because that younger generation almost all listen to rock from the very beginning. They start with rock, then hear fusion, then somehow they hear some saxophone improvisation, wonder what it is, and then finally move over to jazz. Rock is everywhere, but all the roots of rock and pops go back to jazz.  Most of the top rock players are really into jazz.

Do you listen to other music?

I heard Antonio Carlos Jobim in concert when I went to Brazil, so then I sat down and really studied his music. His music is really wonderful. Most of what I listen to are things that I am studying, or it becomes studying when I listen.

You listen to classical music, though?

Of course, I often listen to Mozart and other classical players. When I first started to learn, it was all by ear. As soon as I could play the piano, I learned it just by listening. My teachers tried to get me to read, but I didn't like it. I was playing beginning pieces, my mother was teaching me, but she said what you are playing is written here. But, I told her I don't need to read, I can play it by ear. After high school, my parents forced me to go to university, even though I wanted to become a professional musician. I told my parents I wanted to study music, but they refused. After negotiating, we settled on a music college. My fingers were not yet trained to play classical, so I thought I would go into composition. I thought composition would be good training for improvisation. So, then I started to read and study composition, and study classical piano and many styles of classical European music.

But you still played jazz at the same time?

Right, half of my life was jazz and half was classical. I said to my teacher, "I'm a jazz pianist." When I told them that at the interview for the college, they said, "People like you who play jazz never study until the end of four years. Maybe you'll quit in one year." I told them, "No, I will finish! So, please let me come in." And they did, though I wasn't really sure I would finish. Anyway, they let me in.

Were you playing at that time?

Already at that time I was semi-professional playing here in Tokyo. When I came into the music college, Sadao Watanabe called me for a session. In Japanese, we say, "wearing two shoes," one shoe was jazz and one shoe was school. My teachers were really good, and very openhearted. They didn't push any trivial things, but told me I must write one piece in one seminar. They said I passed. There was also a classical performance for the regular examinations, but the teachers were laughing when I played.

You've done everything and played everywhere, so what's next? Is there any place you didn't play?

Antarctica. Anyway, but for this fifteen-year anniversary of the trio, I made a CD to be released in October. It's kind of again, very Japanese taste. It's the first time I've played together with a kabuki player. It's a flute for No theatre, and a percussionist, from Kabuki family. I let these people meet the New York guys. I thought I would try it and see. I couldn't call these two Japanese players to New York, but we made a tape there, and asked them to play. So, it has jazz bass together with the Japanese flute, and the jazz drums together with the No percussion. It matched really well. I will try to get them all together this autumn in Tokyo. As usual, I will also have my New Year's recital. I have a friend, who wrote an operetta based on "The Merry Widow," so the free jazz mixes with classical music and with the words as well. I also am writing a violin and piano piece for an old friend. I just imagine the scene with one violinist on stage with me on piano on stage and starting the music. I want to imagine the best and most interesting sound. It can be jazz, it can be sweet music, or it can be anything. There is a violin player and piano player and people are waiting for the music, so what can you do there? What can you give people? Does the violin start first or the piano? Pianissimo or forte or what?

So, it's sort of back to your composition studies from college?

Right, but now I can say, "Improvise this!"

(Originally published in The Japan Times, April 24, 2005, and then in longer version Jazznin)