Of Surman’s 1996 oratorio Proverbs and Songs, the Times wrote, “Surman confirmed that he should no longer simply be recognized as one of the country’s leading improvisers and instrumentalists, but a choral composer of imagination, vision and power.” If wanderlust is the overriding dogma of Surman’s life, besides his incredibly wry sense of humor and extreme humbleness over his critically lauded abilities, then it’s a creed one wishes more musicians were able to as successfully cultivate as well he does. I found this great quote of yours where you said the baritone saxophone has “all the agility of a double-decker bus in a fallow field.” So, based on this, how did you come to choose to play the bari as a youngster? It’s actually quite interesting. When I was 16 or 17 I saw two saxophones in a music store, an alto and a baritone. They were both the same price, and I thought, “Wow, all that much more saxophone!” (Laughing) But I really liked the look of the instrument. It was a very old French instrument that had been reconditioned. So I gave it a try. I sort of worked my way down to low C and my whole body vibrated. It was pretty much my first sexual experience (laughing). At the time I had been playing clarinet, doing a lot of traditional-jazz/Dixieland-jazz jobs. I used to go down to the local jazz club and stand by the side of the stage and jam along and after several weeks or months they said I could play, so I did. I had a friend (Peter Russell) who had a jazz record store, which was a very rare thing where I grew up in Plymouth in the southwest part of England. He said, “Hey, you have a baritone saxophone,” and put on some Harry Carney. That was a good starter pack with regards to what you were supposed to do with a baritone. Well I didn’t take the instrument straight back to the shop, which is something I suppose I should have done (laughing), but I did think it was a great instrument. You know my beginnings in music were as a choirboy. I had a quite a good soprano voice as a choirboy and did lots of solos, and things like that around the Plymouth area. I performed oratorios and so on. Then my voice broke and I kind of missed music, without really knowing what was going on, as it were. So I bought a second-hand clarinet and heard some jazz. I thought it was really interesting and that I could join in with it, so I did. So primarily you’re a self-taught performer. Yes. I know you spent some time at the London College of Music. What was the experience like for you there? Well the deal was, with my parents, that if I wanted to be a musician I would have to at least get a teaching diploma, some sort of qualification. So I took some clarinet lessons from one of the Royal Marine Bandsmen clarinetists and managed to scrape by on my entrance exam into the London College of Music. I was lucky there because one of the things that was really positive was that in those days you weren’t allowed to study the saxophone. It wasn’t considered a legitimate orchestral instrument. That sounds pretty weird now, and sometimes I say that to students at workshops and they just look at me bewildered because they’re already in the Royal Academy (of Music) and doing a jazz course of study. But anyway, that’s how it was then, so I had to study clarinet, which was not really my favorite instrument. But I was lucky to have Wilfred Kealey as a teacher. He was a former principal clarinetist with the BBC Orchestra and a really nice guy whose main interest was in tone quality and getting a really good sound. That was something that really helped me a lot because I was also interested in that too. He was able to reinforce a lot of things about breathing and the basics. I studied with him for three years and then in the fourth year I went to the London University Institute of Education to take a teaching diploma. At that point I was able to go back to Kealey and take lessons with him, but I told him, “I have to tell you a secret that all the time you’ve been teaching me the clarinet I’ve been going out at night and playing the saxophone which might account for the fact that I’m not an orchestral soloist on the clarinet.” His reply was, “Well, I thought it was something!.” (Laughing) So I said, “I’ve got this bass clarinet, can I bring that in?” Well, that was that and I had a good year with him on the bass clarinet. The British music scene was very big and vibrant when you were young and coming up. This time also included your work with John McLaughlin. That was also the same time when here in America we were experiencing the so-called British pop/rock band invasion. There was a healthy rock scene in England and a lot of your early recordings and early work were in this rock and fusion area. I was wondering if you could talk a little about this time period? It was one of those interesting times when several different people, all strong musicians, all emerged at the same time. We’re talking about Dave Holland, John McLaughlin, Mike Gibbs, as well as someone who was a big influence at the time, having just arrived from South Africa, Chris McGregor. He brought some great musicians to England with him, like Dudu Pukwanahe, Louis Moholo and Johnny Dyani. There was also load of other guys around, like John Taylor, John Marshall and composers like Mike Westbrook. They were all around at the same point in time, and I think that was a key factor. There was also an active free movement with people like Evan Parker and John Stevens. You touched on the fact that the whole music scene was big. It’s a cliché that the 60s were “the swinging 60s,” but if there are a lot of people out there doing things, it really helps to create a vibrant scene. This was the time when the thing to do in London was to get out and go to things, not just music but also rallies such as those for the nuclear disarmament program. There were also a lot of jazz and poetry clubs all creating an immense amount of activity. You know if you’ve got a lot of activity it breeds a lot of people who take care of it. It was an interesting time. (...More)

|1| |2| |3| | 4|