When I first started improvising, I was very unfamiliar with the term 'improvisation'. Most of the time, I referred to it as 'playing together'.
Speaking of the first time I picked up a microphone and played together with others, I still remember the awkwardness of the thirty seconds before I made my first sound. The microphone, a sound amplifier, had to amplify something valuable to me at that time. But before the sound was emitted, before it was placed in the entire environment and time, how could its value be determined?
Therefore, the first sound that came out of my microphone was the result of 'desperate situation' and 'seeking guidance', an opportunity created by the environment and technology, and also involved making choices. In the following period of time, there were more choices than decisions, which can be described as a period of speculation, shortsightedness, extravagance, and chaos. Even calling it 'trial and error' is not accurate because I didn't know what was considered an error. But even so, some so-called rules of survival gradually emerged in the chaos.
The feedback from my partners who played together with me was the only information that provided language content and value judgment that I could receive after improvisation. At that time, if I wanted to continue playing, I had to respect this information.
One vivid memory is that 'improvisation' is like playing football, it is the result of playing and cooperating, passing the ball and creating space. Many improvisers pay great attention to this when playing with others. If others are too impatient and there is no room for a few notes, or if a melody endlessly controls the tune of others, then such improvisation is almost 'bad'. (The logic behind this is simple: cooperative consciousness relates to the consistency of decision-making, without space, there is no possibility. However, there is an obvious loophole in this, which is neglecting the fact that the space for improvisation is not like a football field. Its volume and boundaries are variable, and sound itself can create differences in objective time and subjective experience).
This was something a friend said to me after playing together once. You can imagine how noisy I was during improvisation. But who decided whether the space for improvisation should be seen as a football field or a market? The question behind this is how I should view the so-called 'playing together', is it a competition or something else.
If it is a competition, then there is the concept of 'the best'. Where is it, what are the specific criteria, who judges, etc., are all questions, but also a trace to follow.
If it is not, then the problem becomes bigger. It will always be in a state of natural evolution, as Lime said, 'only caring about the fleeting situation'. Universality seems to be the only reference, and characteristics like a rooster's comb are secondary and almost irrelevant.
'Nature doesn't know what it's doing, it just realizes what is possible.' - Lime, The Complete Technology.
In the book "Leopard Tracks" by Wu Hong, it mentions the painting of Christ by Wei Deng, where the blood on Christ's right hand and feet presents different states of time, thus introducing the concept of 'small time', meaning that the same place in the painting presents multiple dimensions of time, each with its own micro-narrative. If a painting can present frozen time in this way, can sound, which exists parallel to time, freeze multiple/all possibilities in the same moment? Is this a manifestation of pursuing universality?
Going back to what I said earlier, during the initial period of improvisation, I didn't know what I was doing, I just realized what was possible. Gradually, I realized that I didn't have a standard to judge my progress. From collecting all the materials - the sounds I could produce, to doubting myself - why should I produce such sounds, I returned to the dilemma of those thirty seconds - value?
When not knowing what to do and not caring, all actions/choices are homogeneous. Genes are the deepest imprisonment of freedom. The desire for autonomy made me eager to find something immediately, to end the situation of not being able to create anything different.
So I started to delve into the culture and musical context behind improvisation to find answers. Until now, I still don't know if I have found the right place. Improvisation, as a verb, has no style or boundaries. But many musicians operate within a certain framework to do this. Free jazz is the most widely encountered improvisation framework I have come across, and it is also the most 'competitive' in terms of consciousness. In recent years, I have almost abandoned the idea of 'as long as it exists, everything will be fine', and I see improvisation as watching old men playing chess in the park. When I join in, I constantly remind myself to observe, think, analyze, anticipate, not forget the big picture, etc., except for reviewing. Compared to before, my performance is very humble, respecting the rules, matching the virtues, advocating empiricism, all driven by the interest in finding answers, not inherent nature.
Finally, writing to this point, looking at it this way, although I am not very diligent and hardworking, I still treat this matter seriously. It also reminds me that the answers I am looking for may not be here at all.