Interview: William Roper

Conducted by Jeff Kaiser, Thai Chinese #3 in Oxnard, CA, 10.27.02

(Art from the cover of "Juneteenth." CD available for purchase at amazon.com)

JK: Whom have you played with? You played with the Golia Large Ensemble, the Clayton-Hamilton Orchestra, the L.A. Phil. Do you still gig with the L.A. Phil?

WR: Only if they do one piece. I do one piece with the L.A. Phil, "The Night of the Mayas", by Silvestre Revueltas. I play the conch shell. It's the only piece in orchestral literature that has a conch shell. I'm the L.A. Phil's conch shell player. Or I was, you know, whenever they do that piece...so far...

JK: Is it nerve wracking standing in front of 19,000 people playing the conch shell?

WR: No, people don't nerve wrack me. Its not the people that are nerve wracking, it's the...well there's a lot of pressure playing in an orchestra. That's what's nerve wracking. That, and Esa-Pekka. Is all this going down?

JK: This is all going down.

WR: Uh-oh.

JK: Are you going to give me some dirt on Esa-Pekka?

WR: No, I'm not

JK: He'll be at home doing a Google search for Roper and Esa-Pekka...

WR: He'll see his name. No, Esa gives me every thing I need when I play that piece. I've played it under other people, and I can't say that for the other people. But, no, what is nerve wracking is just the pressure. It's nerve wracking playing in an orchestra...because you don't play all the time. Its less nerve wracking, I think, if you play the violin or the viola, or the cello.

JK: Because you get to hide in a section?

WR: Even if you're not hiding, you just get to play all the time. You're not sitting there waiting to come in, and then when you come in, everything depends on you. You know? That's the problem with wind players in orchestras...when you come in, everything depends on you...when you come in, you have to come in right. You have to come in in-tune, everything has to be right, and if its not, then you're history, that is, if you don't have tenure. If you have tenure, then your life is just made difficult. You know, so the pressure's crazy in orchestras of that caliber. Especially if you don't play with them everyday. If you do it every day, then, well, anything that you do every day becomes different

JK: Were you born in L.A.?

WR: I was born in Los Angeles

JK: Could you say what year?

WR: 1955 the Year of our Lord. That's a joke...there will be some editing of this, won't there?

JK: This'll be on the web so it can be lengthy...I also saw in your bio that you played with Horace Tapscot?

WR: I played with Horace Tapscot. Yes I did.

JK: I want to come back to that, I had a chance to see him a, on a couple of occasions...

WR: With a large group?

JK: With a small group. Roberto Miranda, Michael Sessions...Thurman...

WR: Green?

JK: Yes, Thurman Green on trombone.

WR: The late Thurman Green...Thurman was a nice guy.

JK: Yes, great trombone player.

WR: He was very encouraging. A great trombone player.

JK: Back to history...did you a get into music school early on? Did you go to a performing arts high school...?

WR: No, those things didn't exist in my age, my time, I was born in 1955...

JK: ...The year of our Lord...

WR: Yes, they didn't have those kinds of schools. I just went to public school. I started on the flute. You want this history?

JK: Absolutely!

WR: I started on the flute. That was my first instrument. It didn't work out. I switched to the trumpet. Trumpet was OK...there is a whole story about how, in junior high school, I came to the tuba. That story will be on a CD that will probably come out in 2004.

JK: "Darn! Yarns" part two?

WR: That's not what it will be called. No, no. I've never been happy with the title for that particular CD.

JK: With "Roper's Darn! Yarns"?

WR: No, with the one that's going to come out in 2004. These things are already done. Strategies. It is important for musicians to have strategies...yes...

JK: But it's already made? It's already recorded?

WR: Yes

JK: It hasn't been manufactured yet though?

WR: It hasn't been manufactured and, actually I decided yesterday, to take a tune from it and put it on the next one that's coming out. So actually it's going to be rearranged a little bit, because I decided that tune is going to fit better on this next CD.

JK: So our readers will find out about your trumpet exploits?

WR: Well actually, if they come to the concert on November 8, they will get that story. That story will open the show. The tuba story, yes...

JK: We'll look forward to that. So now, I know you went back...

WR: ...and actually, that story's on the web.

JK: Oh it is? On your web site?

WR: Yes, on the Kyanite web site. It's called tuba story.

JK: We'll insert the link here so they can...

William Roper Homepage

WR: Yes, insert the link there.

JK: And then you went off to college. You went back east, right?

WR: I went to the Cleveland Institute of Music. Yes, going there contiguously while I was going to Case Western Reserve University. For a year. Then I stopped playing the tuba and I came home. I became part of the labor force. First I became part of the unemployed force. Then I became part of the labor force. Then I started playing tuba again...

JK: Labor does that to you doesn't it? I mean I, I didn't play for a while too, and I was doing night stocking...in a grocery store. Stocking shelves I mean...and I tell you, after six months of that, it made me want to do something else...

WR: Well... that's not really why I went back. But I know what you mean. Yeah...I know what you mean. Yes, I stopped playing for various reasons. You know I was a classical guy then. I'm a classical guy now, actually...and is that very hot hot sauce?

JK: I don't think so...it's very sweet. I think it tastes sweet....

WR: These egg rolls just came out of that fryer...

JK: ...A bit warm...yes...gasp. Yes, I can tell by the way you attack a note; you attack it very much like a classical player. There's a difference...there's a steadiness to your tone that is usually only present in people who are classically trained.

WR: Yes, well you know that's my life. Classical music was my life. I still consider myself a, well let me think about that, I consider my compositions to be classical compositions. Classical player? I am what I am, you know. And I'm not what I'm not. Yes, any way, I went back to the tuba because...well...should I talk faster?

JK: No, don't worry about it. I'm going to touch on what you said, because it seems like that's a recent phenomena, classical players of our generation doing improvisation. Originally the blending of jazz and classical was called third stream with Gunther Schuller and those cats, but it seems to have gone someplace more than that...where it seems like there's a lot of classically trained players who improvise now. They incorporate a lot of improvisation into their work, and that seems to be a more recent phenomenon, i.e. the last thirty years or so. That's fairly recent in terms of history. I mean, would you agree with that?

WR: I would say, Jeff, that I don't know.

JK: I just seem to run across it a lot more now. People seem to approach improvisation from one of two schools. It seem they come to it from jazz, or they come to it from classical...now there's guys coming from both directions...

WR: You're correct. It's hard to get any respect, though, in the classical world as an improviser. It's a very ghettoized phenomenon, particularly if you're not puffed up academically. You know what I mean? They don't want anything to do with it. Makes them insecure...

JK: ...and then jazz guys too. They have attitudes about the people who are approaching improvisation from the classical side. You have to be able to play "Cherokee" at a certain beats per minute or something...

WR: ...or just play it. Just be able to play it. Well, I'm happy to say, and I'm proud to say, that I can't even sing "Cherokee" and I don't give a shit. That's going to cost me! Playing over changes? I don't care it's not my...it's not that I don't like it...I love it. Its not that I don't care, I'm just too old. Those cats who do that, many of them, they started out doing that. They started out loving that music. They started out playing that music. It wasn't my thing. I came to improvisation late in life and by default. I just don't have time or the inclination to learn how to play over changes, you know, what I mean? Not that it would take forever, but life is short. There's lots of music in the world. You know what I mean?

JK: What was the road to improvisation for you? How did you get to it? Who were your influences?

WR: I don't have any influences for that...

JK: None? The tuba is a statistically anomalous improvisational instrument anyway...

WR: ...So it makes sense that I don't have any influences.

JK: I know a couple of guys now who play tuba. But when you take look in the jazz history books, in the improvised music books and magazines...who plays tuba? Who's a well-known tubist?

WR: Old guys...I don't know. I mean people played it. You know, but no one took it seriously. They don't take it seriously now, you know. So those names wouldn't be in books. My goal in life is to be in a book. Before I die, I want to be in a book.

JK: You don't think that people take the tuba serious?

WR: I know they don't take the tuba serious.

JK: You know they don't? You've actually experienced that?

WR: I'm a tuba player. I've been playing tuba since I was thirteen. The tuba is a joke, my friend. The tuba is a joke to most the world. And quite frankly, the tuba is a joke to me, you know?

JK: The tuba is a joke to you? In what ways do you mean that? Obviously you use it as your means of...

WR: ...It's my means of expression, yes. You can express a lot on a tuba. But how serious can you get? I mean how seriously can you take it? You know what I mean. It's a big piece of pipe. It makes loud sounds, it makes soft sounds. But it's hilarious. It's hilarious to look at. It's hilarious to hear, you know. I mean if you realize all that...I mean...let's say you meet somebody, and they say, "what do you do?" You say, "I play the tuba." Then you got to wait for them to get over their inclination to laugh. You go through that since you're thirteen, you either become a Nazi about tuba playing or you just face the facts. You know it's a joke. People think it's a joke and they can't all be wrong. They can't all be wrong.

JK: Oh. Well, I for one love the tuba.

WR: That's good. I'm glad you love the tuba. Some people do and...

JK: and like I said, you see more and more guys out there doing it.

WR: Tuba is a very popular instrument.

JK: It's at every high school. It should be more popular. It's not as sexy as trumpet of course...[spoken by a trumpet player]...

WR: This is one of the world's great secrets, it's for you young folks out there: you can get a lot of pussy playing tuba. Okay I've said it. A lot of pussy playing tuba.

JK: You say that Bill, but you once told me, when I first started playing with the Vinny Golia Large Ensemble, "Jeff, you join this band for the music, but you'll stay for the women groupies."

WR: Did I say that?

JK: Yes, you did. I have yet to see the groupies.

WR: Well it must have been a good year. It does happen. It does happen. But I'll answer your question from a while ago, "How did I get into improvisation?" This I documented too, but I'll say it anyway. I'll say it differently. First of all tuba is a young instrument, right, so, the solo stuff is new stuff. When you play solo literature, which I did a lot of; you will come across little episodes of improvisation in the music. And they'll tell you to improvise. You know: you'll have the music, and they'll say improvise, and you'll have more music...

(Waitress)...more tea?

JK: You want some more?

WR: No, I'm okay. I just like this, thank you very much, yes...

(Waitress) What kind of tofu?

JK: I don't know...what do I want today...Bill, would you have steamed or fried tofu?

WR: I would have it fried.

JK: I'm going fried. Fried tonight, thank you.

WR: The problem is, these episodes of improvisation are about five seconds long. They give you the amount of time to improvise.

JK: Like cadenzas? Or are you talking about more modern works?

WR: I'm just talking about, you know, they have some notes and then they say improvise for five seconds. Then they have some more notes. You know what I mean? So that's sort of how I came to it. And then lots of that new music, even though it's notated, you're doing all the work any way. You know what I mean, they draw a little picture, and you play something. Well, who decided what to play? You know what I mean; there are a lot of dots. So that's sort of how I came to it, that would be the genesis of it. You know? Then I started doing stuff with people. With dancers and shit like that. They would say, "I want you to compose something for me." Okay, well, so if you have to compose shit you can compose everything...and take forever. But if you're going to be playing, you can just compose the important shit and fill in the blanks...

JK: What percentage of your music is improvised?

(Waitress) Here you are.

WR: Thank you, thank you. That pork and green curry looks quite curious. Curious. Not at all what I expected, but it smells good. Smells magnificent

JK: Well Cham is cooking, so it should taste pretty good too. Hopefully.

WR: It just depends on the piece, Jeff, but a lot, a lot a lot a lot. A lot. A lot of it.

JK: Well let's take "Juneteenth"...

WR: "Juneteenth," I would say that recording, that rendition is about eight minutes long. Three to four of those minutes are improvised. Probably closer to four. Now someone else might not improvise that much because, unlike most of our colleagues, my goal in life is to have someone else play that music. I'm not really interested in playing my music. I only play my music in hopes that someone will hear it and want to play it.

JK: Have you had works performed by colleges and universities?

WR: No one is interested.

JK: No one is interested in the tuba?

WR: They're not interested in my shit.

JK: So when you go to the American Composers Forum, any hope there?

WR: Well the ACF is full of composers. No, composers aren't going to play my music.

JK: They might have contacts, though.

WR: Doesn't happen much you know. The problem is that...mmm...that looks nice...I think you made the right decision with the fried tofu...yes...mmm. Well, Juneteenth's only been out a year though, so it takes a while. But, you know, tuba players are conservative. Tuba players are conservative guys and gals. They say they want new music. But so I've got new music. I've got unusual music in terms of the tuba repertoire. And it is music that people tend to like when they hear it. But only one person has asked for it. And he asked for a piece that's not recorded.

JK: Is there a tuba guild?

WR: Yes, formerly known as the Tuba Universal Brotherhood Association. But since we're living in the times that we are in, it's now the International Tuba and Euphonium Association. ITEA.

JK: Probably a fairly conservative organization?

WR: Yes, they do review the records though. Which then you would think: people might read the reviews, and they might be interested in your pieces. But no one has. So, my next strategy with them is to start sending the actual music because they review compositions as well, you know, actually sending printed music so they can review that. You can't be subtle Jeff; you have too spell it out for them. You know this to be true, do you not?

JK: Well, when I'm doing music, I'm doing music. When I'm doing the business part, I treat it like a business. You have to.

WR: Well, you don't have to. Most of our colleagues don't. But I think they have different goals. I'm not sure they want to be in books. I'm not sure they want their music in libraries for generations to come. I write my music so, my feeling is, that any well-trained musician can play it. That they are also willing to improvise, that any well-trained musician with an imagination could play it. That's my goal. I'm not dumbing it down; you can hear from it that it is not dumb music. But I know for a fact, in talking to many of our colleagues, that that is not their goal. In fact they think it quite strange that I would want other people to play my music. You know, that's the classical tradition. That's the whole point of classical music. That anyone with the proper training can play it. So there we go...this is really quite tasty, by the way

JK: The presentation of the food is very straightforward. You said you wanted honest food: it's a plate with food on it.

WR: It's very honest; it's all I need.

JK: I tell you, Mike Vlatkovich and Dottie Grossman love this place. Every time Vlat comes down here he drives by and gets food...he likes to eat the cashew tofu. Basically cashew chicken with tofu instead of chicken. Speaking of our colleagues, since you like to speak so honestly, I should take advantage of these things. You pay attention to detail. The way the music is recorded. The way it is mixed. Your stuff is well recorded and well produced. You care what your music will sound like when the audience hears it. The audience being the CD listener, in this case. Why is it that other players don't take this care?

WR: Well, Mr. Kaiser, I think there are many reasons for this. One is: A lot of live recordings out there. Which is legitimate, but I am against it, for my music. Then, people have different backgrounds and different agendas. At the risk of boring the reader, my background is a classical background. Those people take care, they take a lot of care, and so I've always been hearing that from the beginning. Then, I care about my audience, I think a lot of people don't care about the audience, even when they are playing live, but I care about my audience. I like my audience to be happy, or sad, or furious. But whatever they are, I want it to be because of what I was trying to impart to them. So, that means, I have to try and communicate with them and respect them. Which means I have to try not to let shit get in between what I am doing and what they hear, cause there is enough shit anyway. Their brain is full of shit, so is mine. So, we don't want technical shit to get in the way, if we can help it. Now given that, there is still a lot of variety, the people I started recording with a lot at first were Glenn Horiuchi and Frances Wong. Glenn's way of recording was direct to two-track. So you couldn't do much editing and mastering. So pretty much they are live recordings. But at least you are in the studio. You can control the balances. That was my method for a long time. It was also cheaper. But it depends on the kind of music. As I record more stuff, like the next CD, it is very far from that. There is separate tracking, overdubs, et cetera. A lot of people only care about playing and documentation of their playing. They don't care about who is listening, how the listeners receive it. Other than they want to be stars, they don't take it much beyond that. So it doesn't matter so much to them. If your goal is just to document, you are going to care less. If your goal is the amount of records, as opposed to the quality, you are going to care less. Now, everyone knows in the 21st century, it doesn't cost that much more. What can I say? There are a lot of pigs in the world.

JK: Tell me about the religious themes in your music. Not just religion, from the Latin Mass, to protestant themes, American history...

WR: Well, I'm a narrative guy; so all my stuff is about stories. They all have a story, whether the audience knows it or not. The bible has some good stories. Some "out" shit in it, you know? And a lot of people know at least the references to the stories. They actually don't know the stories that well, but they know the references, at least. So that is my connection with my audience. The danger is that they might think I am religious, but they soon get over that. If I'm playing live, I definitely disavow them of that. You know, I was a religious guy when I was young, young and stupid. But mainly, I like the stories, the stories are out and they are good material. You can have a battle scene, sex scene, storm, flood, pigs to the slaughter, exorcisms. You know, you can't beat it! That's what it's about. What better vehicle for that than a tuba.

JK: Yeah, that's what popped into my mind...[laughs]...I've seen you play in many environments, like Vinny Golia's band at the LA County Museum of Art. You preaching and the band shouting hallelujahs behind you, you with a black towel covering your head and face...I heard you got in trouble for that...

WR: The curator of that series, Dorance Stalvey, came up at intermission and shouted at me "You sure do have a big mouth, don't you!" And it didn't sound like he was joking, didn't look like he was joking. Didn't look like he was having a great time. I get along with Dorance, now. I didn't know him that well then.

JK: He knows you by name now, right?

WR: Yes... You know, that whole tour I talked on my solos, that's because, I didn't have anything to say playing-wise. And I strongly feel; if you have nothing to say, don't play. Don't take a solo. Give us a break, why don't you? You know what I mean? I wish my colleagues would do that. But, if they tell you to take a solo, you kind of have to. And if you don't, you might not get another one.

JK: How long have you been working with Joseph Mitchell?

WR: In a sense, since we were 13. I've known him that long. We've been working as Judicanti Responsora since the early 80s. Add that up. It's 2002, math students, work that out. I've known him since 13; he's a real good buddy. He's a real straight cat, but he's crazy. I know he's crazy and you can hear when he plays he's crazy. But he's real straight. Dresses in suits, and shit. He enjoys that, dressed up in a suit.

JK: Back to "Juneteenth", did you get any flack for that cover art?

WR: Much to my surprise, I haven't. I've only had one person really mess with me about it, and she didn't really mess, she just wanted an explanation, a bass player, jazz musician. I announced it on the Tuba News group. Some guy mailed me something about chittlins and shit...

JK: Pretty shocking art, but beautifully done...it startled me.

WR: It is shocking. It is supposed to be, but it's fun, isn't it? A little shock value...you smiled when you saw it, didn't you?

JK: Yes, but I wonder what I would've thought if I didn't know you...That album runs the breadth from Latin texts to Americana...

WR: Kind of wide ranging. It is my first release as leader, so I had to knock them dead.

JK: The tuba playing is wonderful. A lot of creative musicians rely heavily on extended techniques, but you can really play your horn, and that comes across. You are respectful of the history of the instrument and expanding the vocabulary and creating a future for the instrument.

WR: Thank you, sir.

JK: And Joseph's entrance in the first track is startling, as well.

WR: For the record, that was not planned. He was not part of that piece. But before the session, I said bring a tambourine to play on Juneteenth. And I told him where to play it. Then I said, "I want you to sing, too, anything, some spiritual or something." He wasn't willing to do it. I said you must. So I was playing and he came in with the tambourine, and then started talking that smack, I didn't tell him to do that, about ribs and chittlins and shit, and we both just started busting up! So we had to get ourselves together and do a different take. Anyway, it sounded good, even though we didn't have a mic on him. We should've set up a recording mic for his voice as well...back to that recording values thing we talked about. What's your take on recording values?

JK: Well, I'm also a classically trained musician. Both my Bachelor's and Master's are in classical music so that make me an elitist, I guess. That immediately characterizes me as an elitist, right? Because I am concerned about values...

WR: Curious, isn't it...

JK: Yes, concern about recording values, performance values, I'm even concerned about the way a note looks on the page when I write a score...I want it to look nice.

WR: I've cursed composers out for scores that are difficult to read, you know. I don't have time for that. Get it so I can read it. It doesn't have to be like Michael Vlatkovich's hand, he's got a great hand. It's got to be honest, though. I'm even concerned how they dress. I mentioned to one of my guys about how he was dressed. I costume up a lot. But he was kind of raggedy. I said, "You need to pay more attention to your clothes." He said are they here for the music or for the way I dress. I said, "If you are going to play with me, you are going to dress different, never dress like that." There are limits for me; I'm an old man now. I can say these things now. If you dress like a pig, they're going to think you're a pig. If your motivation is begging, then you can dress like a pig, because then you are going to be successful. But if your motivation is for the audience to stay with you, you don't have to wear a suit, but you probably shouldn't be wearing shit with holes in it that the audience can see. But you can do what you want. But I can then pick and chose who I play with. And more often than not, just because of my attitude. My attitude is: the world has plenty of tuba as it is, and I've played enough in my life, as it is, so I'm not really looking for chances to play. So more often than not, people want me to play with them, more than I want to play with them.

JK: The world has enough tuba already?

WR: You only want more if you are a tuba player. How many people do you know walking around asking for more tuba? I'll tell you a story, for the good of your interview. Before Juneteenth came out, I said to Kim Richmond, another of our colleagues, "I just finished the cover for my new CD." He said, "Great Bill, I'm happy for you." I said there's not a tuba to be seen on the outside. Kim said, gee, I don't know if that is good or bad. I said, "Kim, when was the last time you bought a CD with the tuba on the cover?" He said, "I can't say I ever have..."

JK: Do you have an aesthetic that drives your compositions?

WR: Depends on the composition, the story, the narrative. If it's a love-story, an end-of-love-story, and they are almost all end-of-love-stories. You know what I mean. It depends. If I were to answer it differently, I would say the aesthetic is beauty, whatever the fuck that is. Some of my compositions are graphics. "Pigs, Pigs! Oh Those Tasty Pigs!" is just graphics, cards. Drawings. Juneteenth is traditionally notated. And then there are some that are just text, that's coming out in 2003. All my shit is recorded, Jeff. What I've learned from Glenn and Vlatkovich is just record the shit as I go along. Releasing is not my goal, recording is my goal. Then I take my time mastering, editing. And then you release it whenever you have the money. Now that I'm releasing, I have a pet peeve with reviewers. I have many peeves with reviewers, but they are beautiful people, I'm sure. So many say something like, "This CD was recorded years ago..." like that is wrong. Like each record needed to be recorded within 6 months of release. Just judge the fucking music. Not every person, the 20 or so, that read that review, need to know that. Understand?

JK: Sometimes they are concerned with a minutiae that has nothing to do with the music.

WR: They have to have an excuse for their writing. They have to fill their space with something. But to make a disparaging comment about the recording date...I think they need to think about that. Well, it doesn't matter.

JK: And this is your art, on the cover of Roper's Darn! Yarns?

WR: Yes, that is my art.

JK: And you had a show of your art here in Oxnard at the Carnegie Art Museum?

WR: Yes, I think it was '94 or '95. Both those paintings were in that show.

JK: I was there at the opening. I've been following you for quite awhile! The first time I heard you was in '83 or '84 with John Rapson. It's about time we have you here in Ventura...we look forward to your show. What closing comments do you have for all our readers?

WR: Buy my records! [Laughs]

JK: ...and come to the show on Friday!