AI vs. A.I. - Our Actionable Empathy

A few weeks back, I had the opportunity to experience the talent of Stefon Harris and Blackout live on stage at opening the 62nd Annual Jazz Festival at Clark College. Stefon is a jazz vibraphonist and the show was amazing. Not only did his music shine on its own merits, but each song took on new life with the stories he told about why each song was written or selected for this night’s repertoire. The night consisted of many spectacular things that are the epitome of “jazz” including an absent musician, a reminder from one of my favorite English professors, and a chat about A.I. and the need to stop AI.

Before the festivities started, in walked Joe Pitkin, English Professor and sci-fi writer extraordinaire, also a fellow songwriter and audiophile. We shook hands and he sat in the row behind, I imagine sliding his thoughts in and out of the wooden and metal bar strikes and careening memories around the sound waves produced through the resonator tubes much like I was. I felt a kinship with him as well as the other jazz lovers (and mere appreciators) in the room having so many thoughts and memories fill a room directed toward the band on stage, funneling their years of musical tutelage and wisdom back toward the lovers and appreciators filling the packed auditorium.

For those unfamiliar with the likes of musician, educator, and thought leader, Stefon Harris, and his band, Blackout, they have garnered acclaim from WBGO, the Los Angeles Times, and earned a Grammy nomination for their album, Urbanus. Stefon’s vibraphone is backed up by Kenny Banks, Jr. on piano, Luques Curtis on Bass, and Obed Calvaire at drums, and is accented by saxophonist, Jaleel Shaw and Alicia Olatuja on vocals.

On the night of the performance though, as Stefon explained from the Arts@Clark stage, the band’s drummer did not make his flight from New Jersey. Miraculously, a last-minute fill-in turned out to be magic. When Stefon saw that his show was going to go without a drummer, he turned to Clark’s Jazz Band 1 drummer, Blake Bruning, that impressed him during a previous clinic he had with the band. Blake didn’t just keep time, he spoke conversations between the bass, the vibes, and himself.

Blake’s last minute addition exemplified Stefon’s ethos of “Empathy in Action.” In each song, Stefon primed the audience with a window into his process, the song’s soul, or the journeys of his bandmates during each musical break. The connection between the stage and the audience was electric, firing on all cylinders. As Stefon ran up and down two different vibraphones, the audience bobbed and weaved their heads to the sophisticated and sultry spontaneity emanating from the stage.

As Stefon’s mallets floated over the wooden and metal bars and Kenny found his inner Monk on keys and Alicia sang her silky lines and Jaleel masterfully keyed in his mystical tones, it started to become clear that these remarkable souls, along with Luques on bass and Blake on drums driving the rhythm train, were on a synergetic mission of courage to step out into the unknown. To find the literal “jazz” of the evening, in the evening, with each other, and even with the audience. Stefon calls this actionable empathy the last holdout against a world bombarded with artificial truths, artificial news, and Artificial Intelligence: the other A.I., Artistic Intelligence.

Seeing Blake meld a groove with those seasoned professionals on stage was Artistic Intelligence on display. I’m sure it was horrible for the band’s drummer, Obed Calvaire, to miss a gig like this, but to Blake, to the first year college jazz players in the cheap seats, to the 40-something, used-to-play-sax writer in the front row, it turned out to be an evening of hope and exhilaration. Blake probably has the highest expectations for his future now that he has broken the seal of his professional career playing with a band the likes of this. The jazz students in the audience have hope that maybe, if they keep practicing, that they too will have the opportunity to be called upon when an A-list band is in their greatest need. And this writer has more hope for our future seeing Blake take control in such a high-pressure situation, laying down the groove like a soothsayer slinging soliloquies.  It was a collaboration of scriptless magic acquiring a standing ovation from a most grateful and astounded audience.

Looking behind me at Joe in the second row was a reminder that I needed to be writing more. Not just the short stories I’ve been working on more regularly than usual, but also this blog, my connection to the audience, the synergy with empathy. Or, to put it differently, to find my courage and write my struggles to my faithful few.

Thank you, readers.

Thank you, Joe. Thank you, Stefon and Blackout. And thank you, Blake.

Stefon Harris & Blackout: https://www.stefonharris.com/

Jazz@Clark: https://www.clark.edu/about/arts-events/music/jazz_festival/

Joe Pitkin's Blog: https://thesubwaytest.com/