A friend of mine who does not like jazz–especially anything that has a saxophone in it–told me once about a conversation she and her ex-husband, a serious jazz-lover, had over dinner with a couple, the male half of which also loved jazz, while the female half felt similarly to my friend. This second woman defined her dislike by saying something along the lines of, “I don’t need to sit and listen to a bunch of men masturbating,” a reference both to the emphasis in jazz on the improvised solo and to the fact that most jazz musicians–or maybe most well-known jazz musicians–seem to be men. My friend said she felt an immediate click of rightness when her dinner guest made this statement, which led to a long discussion about the comparison between music and sex, between improvisation and solo sex–though, of course, jazz improvisation is not usually done in solitude. I have written elsewhere about the connection I made early on in my own sexual awakening between the orchestrating of sexual pleasure during lovemaking and music, but what my friend’s story made me think about was how, say, a certain kind of jazz solo, where the musician explores subtle nuances of melody and harmony, or the various ways in which you can slice up a beat to create different rhythmic textures, corresponds to the kind of masturbation in which you use the pleasure you are giving yourself to explore yourself, either through the fantasies that arise while you masturbate or through the different kinds of awareness your solo lovemaking gives you of your own body; and then I thought about how rock solos or blues solos or the large solo concerts that Keith Jarrett once gave all have an analog in masturbation, from the kind that is just a release of sexual tension to the kind that is an affirmation in deep sadness and/or joy–and/or the entire range of emotions it is possible to feel during sex, which means pretty much all the emotions of which human beings are capable–of the fact that you are alive, which for me is what defines the sound of the blues, to the kind that is large and complexly motivated and that you may never fully understand.
Masturbation is, as all sex is, a working through of who we are and how we feel about ourselves, of what we wish for, of what we wish to avoid, of the history of our bodies, of everything that makes us human in the capacity of our bodies to experience that humanity; and there is a way in which sex is the creation of a symbol of that humanity: in the pleasures we move through on our way to orgasm, not because orgasm is the only and necessary goal of sex–though in masturbation orgasm usually is the point–but because each orgasm, whether we are conscious of it or not, is something to which we have to give meaning, and meaning requires history, not only the specific history of the sensations that brought you to this particular orgasm, but the larger personal and cultural history that each of those sensations taps into. I know I’ve had orgasms that changed me. Some were solitary and some were shared, but all of them captured a truth about myself that I needed to face if I was going to grow, sexually and otherwise.
This symbolic aspect of sex–which may or may not be an accurate way of talking about these things, but which makes sense to me–reminds me as well of something I read a long time ago in Suzanne Langer’s book, Feeling and Form about how music is the symbolic representation of the process of human emotion and that it is this symbol which the composer creates on the page and that the performer plays into existence when he or she performs; and so it occurs to me that sex, solo or otherwise, is the playing into existence of that part of ourselves that is waiting to become, and sometimes we will understand what we are becoming in and through sex, and sometimes sex is what opens us up to the fact that this understanding is what we need to find.
So I am wondering: What have people out there understood? What have they found? Which are the orgasms that have changed you?
Cross posted on It’s All Connected.
As an improvising musician, I really object to any kind of positive association between improv and wanking. Alas, some improv can be described that way, but this is not a positive assessment. Somebody who is not listening, or goes on too long or loses touch with the audience or generally gets lost in hir own world is wanking. Good improv is structured and engaged.
I find the idea of a quest for self-knowledge through wanking to be dubious at best. Certainly, it would be some sort of emotion-based experience. But the creation of music is intellectual. It does have emotional components, obviously, but it uses an entirely different part of the brain to make and understand than wanking or navel-gazing uses.
I also object to describing jazz as a male pursuit. The reason there are more male performers is the same reason there are more male composers and musicians in almost all types of music: sexism.
@Les:
I know nothing about the music you play or the instrument/voice you use, but I respectfully disagree with you. Music is not an intellectual pursuit alone. In my own experience, when I’ve played the best is when I have the technical skill AND the passion behind it. Good improv is being in tune with your surroundings, having something musically to say or explore, and the magic of spontaneity, of being in that moment along with all the musicians and letting it take you somewhere. The audience doesn’t matter so much – if you cater to them, you will bore them. Hence the universal truth of jam sessions; no audience, freedom to explore, talent = amazing music
I can see the association with wanking – you need both of those things to get off successfully as well. Perhaps you see it as crude or belittling to music, but music is something that calls to the soul just like a good orgasm or the best food you’ve ever tasted or the love you feel for a friend. It’s a pursuit in which we are finally one with ourselves.
This was a beautiful post that really opened my mind in some unexpected ways. Thank you for this.
I’ve had important orgasms that have taught me a lot about my own sexuality, but I don’t know how much they’ve taught me about myself, exactly. My erotic desires aren’t synonymous with my day-to-day desires. In fact, they’re practically in opposition. So I don’t think the metaphor quite works for me — music (listening to) is how I explore myself. Sex is how I get to explore who I’m not.
I’m in two different choirs, one with my church and one that can best be described as a chamber choir made up of a group of people who sing (or sang) in their church choirs and got together over the years to sing mostly sacred but some secular music. We do masses, weddings (the mass, not the reception), funerals, concerts, etc.
This post raises some interesting thoughts about what it’s like to perform music with a group of people and how my relationship with those people and my feelings towards them have developed and changed as we rehearse and perform together.
Oh man… I got nothing on the real topic, but the beginning of your post just makes me want to scream two words:
SCHEILA GONZALES!
SCHEILA GONZALES!
SCHEILA GONZALES!
I love that woman.
Improv has far more in common with group-sex than wankery. The whole think is a metaphor for sex – you’re groping about your band-mates, trying to get into a comfortable groove with them, and then you hit it and roll with it and eeuuuugghghhhhhhhhh.
And I’m spent.
Sitting alone writing is probably closer to wankery than improvisational music.
Improv is probably closer to sex than any other creative endeavor I can think of. There is a perfect metaphor of feeling around in the darkness, probing for a place to fit in, and sliding into a nice, steady groove.
This is a pretty amazing post, because I’ve never experienced anything remotely like it, and I have no idea how to experience it. But thanks for letting me see how different it is for you.
Whoop, didn’t mean to double-post – thought the first one got eaten.
Just wanted to say that, in Taoist sexual practice, about which I know and have experienced a very, very little, masturbation is called “self-cultivation,” or some such expression and it is, as Les says upthread, structured and engaged.
Also just wanted to say that I have enjoyed these comments. Thanks.