ANATOMY OF AN IMPROVISER: THE STYLE OF NAILOR AZEVEDO “PROVETA
Manuel Silveira Falleiros
1.3. New Demands
We shall designate his entry into the musical scene of São Paulo as beginning with his appointment as a saxophonist in Silvio Mazzuca’s dance orchestra⁴³. Silvio Mazzuca’s Orchestra was a professional musical ensemble of the highest caliber at the time, performing at parties and dance events. Its repertoire featured arrangements and original compositions by Mazzuca himself, characterized by sophisticated and demanding notation. Until then, the concept of arranging had represented, for Nailor, something distant from dissonant harmonies and more audacious writing.
At sixteen years of age, Nailor joined this orchestra in a relatively unprominent position: fourth tenor saxophone—the part that, in this type of orchestration, typically plays chordal notes in lines that rarely convey independent musical meaning when isolated, and in the instrument’s lower register, which is somewhat more technically demanding in terms of sonority and afinação (intonation). Within a short period, Nailor ascended through the ranks to the position of first alto saxophone, with responsibility over the instrumental section. According to Nailor, the instruction he received in this orchestra “brought a level of refinement to elements already present in his practice.” That is to say, aspects that were already part of his practical experience but lacked formal and structured knowledge were finally clarified through his contact with the musicians in Mazzuca’s orchestra. As the most successful dance orchestra of the era, it brought together the finest musicians on the São Paulo scene and absorbed others, such as Nailor, from other cities.
Highly attentive and observant, Nailor seized this opportunity to absorb knowledge from everything around him:
“Now, there is one aspect of him that stands out: he is very intelligent, very observant […] Much of his learning comes precisely from listening, from observation itself.”⁴⁴
“‘[…] right away I noticed he was attuned to the orchestra’s environment, you know? Bass, drums […] ‘I’m not hearing the bass…’ That’s when I started to pay attention. What a focused guy—it was rare at that time. You see, not today; nowadays there is greater aural awareness, but back then not every musician had the perception required to play in a big band and truly listen.”
Contact with musicians from the São Paulo scene enabled him to become known to figures such as Roberto Sion⁴⁵, who assisted him with a series of specific exercises and methods for improvisation. With more organized and specialized materials at his disposal, Nailor began to better comprehend what he had already been applying in his work.
Regarding technical instrumental studies, Nailor had the opportunity to take lessons with specialists in each instrument. Until then, to cite one example, his clarinet teacher was, in fact, a trombonist:
“[…] Professor Rafael Gagliardi, who later gave me clarinet lessons—only after I turned twenty did I study clarinet with an actual clarinetist!”⁴⁶
In addition to his exposure to the arrangements performed in Mazzuca’s orchestra, Nailor became aware of contemporary aspects of orchestration for the time through one who may be considered among Brazil’s greatest arrangers: Cyro Pereira.
“[…] I would hear Cyro already discussing arrangements—something impressive […]”⁴⁷
Work with the Mazzuca Orchestra began to decline due to shifts in the aesthetics of commercial music. There was diminishing space for the big band sound. “At that time I was already leaving Mazzuca. Because Mazzuca was already somewhat in decline, because discotheques had reached Mazzuca,” Nailor comments. Thus, at nineteen years of age, he set out in search of other sources of income. He moved to Mairiporã, where he worked in a musical instrument factory repairing saxophones. However, this was not a long-term position; he remained there for only six months. He then joined the Banda Sinfônica of São Bernardo do Campo and relocated to that city. According to Nailor, this ensemble “was no longer truly a band; it had been a symphonic band, it bore the name but was no longer one. It had one bassoon, one French horn, that’s all. It was a standard band.” Nevertheless, for this ensemble, in addition to playing clarinet, he also wrote arrangements. Two years later, an invitation arose for Nailor to join a group that was being formed to accompany international artists: the band of the “150 Night Club” at the Maksoud Plaza hotel. This band comprised a selection of the finest instrumentalists of the era.
Receiving a favorable salary and enjoying material comfort, Nailor was able to dedicate all his free time to study. According to him, “that was when I truly began to study.” In reality, Nailor had never ceased to dedicate himself intensely to music; however, until that point, what he had been exposed to amounted to a refinement of what he had been doing since his earliest contact with music—that is, playing in ensemble, writing arrangements, performing transcriptions. Yet, at this precise juncture in his career, a new demand emerged for him: that of improvising soloist.
“A great period. I would leave the Maksoud and go eat at restaurants. It was the time when I plunged headfirst into jazz. Everyone was playing jazz; it was the market of the time […] It was the market. Everyone had to come out soloing, because that’s what was played in Brazil.”⁴⁸
Of course, within the Mazzuca Orchestra, as in other settings, Nailor had already experimented with soloing and improvisation. However, he now had to situate his music in markedly distinct terms. The improvising soloist in this context is solitary, in the sense of bearing responsibility for the artistic outcome—that is to say, he must create, invent, and, if possible, distinguish himself from others through his personal style.
After experiencing several living arrangements, Nailor shared an apartment with other musicians who also worked at the 150 Night Club. These individuals, who were among the most active on the São Paulo musical scene, formed a kind of “musical nucleus” within the apartment—a space that was later responsible for the emergence of artistically significant musical groups in the country. But prior to that, it was a place where they practiced together and attracted the presence of other musicians:
“It was jazz; we would hold playback sessions of Jamey Aebersold (T.N.: play-along practice sessions using Jamey Aebersold recordings); it would be me and Gil, sometimes Wilson Teixeira would come, or Alexandre Mihanovicth.”⁴⁹
In this phase, the obsessive character of Nailor’s relationship with music becomes more clearly revealed. Sometimes interpreted by those close to him as dedication and rigid discipline, this behavior in fact exhibits traits of obsession: he set aside his social and personal life and withdrew into a world inhabited solely by music:
“They would be studying; Proveta would be studying all day long.”⁵⁰
“But not Proveta—he would study all day long: clarinet in the morning, and in the afternoon he would pick up the saxophone, and at night we would still do some playback sessions, play duets, study the entire day. Years and years.”⁵¹
“[…] when he picks up his instrument to play, the world ceases to exist; it is just him and the music.”⁵²
These were the years when jazz—more specifically, the bebop style—was in vogue in the instrumental music market. This style is marked by an emphasis on the improvising soloist and a certain freedom of expression manifested as artistic autonomy in the act of improvised soloing. As is common in popular music across diverse cultures, the acquisition of this skill generally occurs through the study of solos by other instrumentalists. For Nailor, the act of transcribing had been part of his musical studies since childhood and was a practice with which he was highly familiar. However, at this stage, transcription alone was no longer sufficient; creation became necessary.
From that point onward, Nailor devoted himself to seeking a deeper understanding—through analysis of materials obtained via transcriptions or sheet music—of the structural principles organizing musical creation, thereby beginning to reflect critically on his own solos. Not only with improvised solos, but also with orchestral scores, and in their absence, he himself undertook to transcribe the musical excerpts he wished to analyze. Therefore, in addition to refining his instrumental technique, Nailor was concerned with analyzing the creative processes of soloists, arrangers, and composers.
In order to clarify the relevant aspects of his musical formation during this period, we highlight the following: a) Contact with more in-depth knowledge and more rigorous practice. b) An obsessive character regarding the study of music. c) Transcription and analysis as vehicles for comprehension.
Contact with musicians from the state capital—who had greater access to recent information about the global music world, obviously due to more constant connection with other cultures—enabled Nailor to refine his musical technique and elevate it to more sophisticated levels.
The experience with international musicians and the high standards required for such engagement imposed new demands on Nailor’s life and on his music.
His obsessive character contributed to an enhancement of his instrumental technique, affording him greater fluency—superior to that found among musicians of his category. This is reflected primarily, at this stage, in his improvised solos.
However, Nailor still needed to discover a means of organizing his entire life experience into a personal musical language that would best represent his art and prevent him from venturing into a style not authentically his own. Nailor is a profound admirer of jazz, and as such, he quickly perceived the genre’s complexity and the difficulty of truly absorbing its language and all the stylistic branches it encompasses.
His sincere concern with offering the public something genuine led him to seek the terrain in which he could most appropriately demonstrate his execution:
“The problem is not disliking jazz; it is speaking the wrong thing at the wrong time. Not having knowledge of this is why I prefer to play a choro […]. If I am to play each of these styles, I know exactly the language of each one. I have a certain responsibility to try to help organize what I will call language tomorrow.”⁵³