Theodosii Spassov
Bulharsko
Informace je zde pouze anglicky.
Theodosii Spassov
Bulgaria
"If someone had told me back in my days at the School of Folklore, `One day you
will play jazz', I would have laughed myself silly."
Theodossii Spassov (4. March 1961) plays tones on the kaval that no one else
would be capable of playing.` In the West many people think that the way I play
the kaval is typical of the way this flute is played in Bulgaria,' he says.
`That is, however, not the case. If one asked a Bulgarian kaval player how to
play as I play he would not be able to answer. The kaval is usually played in a
rather restrictive manner. I play this flute in a way which is much more open.'
Over the course of time Theodosii developed his own embouchure and fingering
techniques that differ from the traditional Bulgarian style of playing kaval.
`While playing with jazz musicians I discovered that, played in the traditional
sense, my instrument was limited. If I wanted not just to `play' but rather to
communicate with the other musicians I needed to somehow extend the kaval's
capacity. I was obliged to develop an entirely new way of playing.' Although in
Bulgarian folklore the kaval is predominantly played diatonically, Spassov
systematically chromaticized his instrument to accomodate his playing in other
musical contexts (jazz and symphonic music) with a dialogue-enabling capacity.
By means of his own special fingering and embouchure techniques he also managed
to change the timbre of his instrument, at times achieving tone colors
reminiscent of a saxophone or clarinet.
Spassov further intensified his kaval playing - singing into his instrument
while playing - with vocalization. While on tour in Greece in l984, fans
approached him enthusiastically exclaiming,`You play just like Ian Anderson from
`Jethro Tull'. 'But Theodosii at that time had no idea whatsoever of who Jethro
Tull was.' `Only much later did 4I hear Ian Anderson's cassettes.'
Whereas singing while playing flute also occurs in traditional Bulgarian music,
the usage of such passages here and there occurs in choice moments, adding
highlights (`like pepper on a tasty dish', says Theodosii). Spassov's own
dosage of this technique is so extensive and intensified that it independently
constitutes a defining characteristic of his style.
Through these and other innovations Theodosii Spassov has transformed the kaval,
originally a soft and mild instrument, into a flexible and powerful
dialogue-enabling solo instrument in the context of jazz. He had a relatively
late start playing the kaval- at the age of ten (as his father founded a
school). In those days there were special music highschools in which one could
learn to play traditional Bulgarian folklore instruments. Attending such a
school in Kotil,
Spassov systematically learned to play folklore. Later he continued his studies
in Plotiv at the Art Academy for Music and Dance. Two major events opened the
folklore-student's door to jazz. A fellow student brought him the first
cassettes - music from Sarah Vaughan, Wayne Shorter, Miles Davis and Charlie
Parker - and gave him as well some original compositions to play. Says
Theodosii: `In that moment, as the folklorists expressed the first criticisms,
that this was no longer folklore, I was immediately ready to give up that
world.' And then Spassov found himself under the influence of the tenor
saxophonist Vesselin Nikolov. Nikolov, who had lived many years in Poland and
had recorded there with Krystof Komeda and Tomasz Stańko, held in Plotiv at that
time the role of a jazz-guru. He took young musicians under his wing and
introduced them to his ideas, closely related to the jazz avantgarde. Nikolov
was not a music theorist.
He taught his young musicians to think undogmatically, instructed them in
questions of aesthetics, the structuring of the solo, and the importance of
stage presence.
In 1983 Spassov founded the band `jazz Linia' together with his university
colleagues ( e.g. the singer Yildiz Ibrahimova). in which the flutist attempted
for the first time a fusion of Bulgarian music and jazz. Spassov had barely
begun incorporating other influences into his Bulgarian flute playing when the
first difficulties appeared. He received harshly critical letters and had to
contend with demeaning remarks. The folklorists complained that he was
destroying folklore.
On the other hand the jazz-faction propagated the opinion that his music was not
jazz. The official cultural publications labeled his music as a cariacature of
Bulgarian folklore. The kaval was not a jazz instrument. Why didn't Spassov just
buy himself a saxophone, with which he could certainly make better music.
In 1990 as the famous pianist and keyboarder Milcho Leviev returned from his
chosen home in the USA, every jazz musician in Plovtiv wanted to jam with the
legendary keyboarder (whose enormous success was celebrated in the bands of
Billy Cobham and Don Ellis). Among those in the long line of enthusiasts was
Theodossii Spassov. The jazz saxophonists, trombonists and trumpeters would have
loved to chase Theodossii Spassov with his `shepherd's flute' from the stage.
But after a very short time it was obvious: Leviev rejected the neoboppers in
absolute favor of Spassov for his duo. And thus began the musical encounter.
with a widely acclaimed duo concert in Sophia, televised and recorded as well.
After this performance the critics asked Milcho Leviev - in Bulgaria regarded
as an unshakeable jazz authority `What is Spassov doing? Is this jazz? Or is
this folklore? 'Leviev retorted,`Do you take me for a fool? He's not playing
jazz. He's not playing folklore. He's simply playing good music.' And suddenly
all the uproar about whether or not this fusion was valid o r in fact a disgrace
to Bulgarian folklore, vanished.
Since then Theodosii Spassov has won international acclaim with the Indian
percussionist Trilok Gurtu's band (`The Glimpse') as well as on recordings with
Albert Mangeldorff and the Radio Hessen jazz Ensemble.
`My entire efforts,' explains Theodosii, `have been focused on developing a
personal musical identity, and to drive improvised Bulgarian music to a point of
equality with American jazz... when I began in 1983 to play this style of music
many people told me, `You are not playing jazz, what you do is folklore.' Today,
since I've had success and international recognition, the same people come to me
and say proudly, `We also play ethno-jazz.' And then I must answer, `I don't
play ethno-jazz. I play modern Bulgarian music.'