Reason of Ars

[Smoke Stings Studio 0002]
 
The Hammond Organ and Its Formative Power in Jazz
The Hammond organ transcends its classification as merely a type of keyboard instrument; it can be positioned as a “form-generating instrument” that defines specific styles and ensembles within jazz itself. Its uniqueness stems from the convergence of its structural characteristics as a mechanical sound-producing mechanism, its evolution from church music to club music, and the symbolic nature of its timbre within soul jazz and jazz funk.
　First, the Hammond organ possesses a mechanical system fundamentally different in quality from today’s electronic keyboards, utilizing tone wheels and electromagnetic induction for sound generation. The harmonic structure generated by continuously rotating metal gears produces a unique timbre—distinct from both pipe organs and pianos—characterized by a distinctive warmth and graininess, containing subtle noise and fluctuations. Its configuration, featuring two manuals and a pedalboard, enables the “simultaneous operation of three layers”: right-hand melody, left-hand chords, and bass played with the feet. This design is fundamentally intended for a single performer to fulfill the role of an entire small ensemble.
　This structure holds decisive significance in the so-called “organ trio” formation. The organ trio fundamentally consists of a Hammond organist, a drummer, and a guitarist or saxophonist. Despite lacking a bass player, it richly fills the acoustic space from low to high frequencies. Here, the term “organ trio” itself is a name predicated on a specific instrument; replacing the organ with a piano would mean it could no longer be called by the same name. This highlights how the Hammond organ forms the core of the ensemble’s structure. While saxophones and trumpets can often interchangeably serve as the frontline instrument, the Hammond organ functions as a “unique entity” that comprehensively handles the bass, harmonies, texture, and even the integration of volume and spatial presence.
　More significantly, the Hammond’s sound is deeply intertwined with worship music in African American churches. Introduced as a replacement for the pipe organ, the Hammond established itself as an improvisational accompaniment instrument, following the inflections of the sermon and responding to congregational shouts and call-and-response. Its undulating sound became intimately associated with the presence of the Holy Spirit and religious trance experiences, acquiring a symbolic quality akin to “the voice of God.” Yet simultaneously, due to its bluesy idiom and strong groove, it faced criticism for bringing “the devil’s music” into the church. This very ambivalence is precisely why Hammond’s sound is noted for embodying both the sacred and the secular.
　This ecclesiastical context would eventually slide continuously into soul, R&B, and soul jazz through the medium of gospel. The establishment of jazz organ by figures like Jimmy Smith can also be seen as an attempt to rearrange the shout-like intensity, call-and-response, and blues-rooted phrase structures cultivated in the church as entertainment within the club space. In soul jazz and jazz funk, the timbres of the Hammond organ and Leslie speaker function directly as the auditory symbols of the genre. Hearing these sounds instantly evokes the “cultural continuum stretching from the black church to the club.” Here, the sound transcends being “mere timbre” and functions as an archive of a community’s history and emotions.
　Furthermore, the Hammond organist’s physicality is crucial. Though the keyboard lacks velocity sensitivity, allowing no dynamic control over the sound itself, the organist can constantly vary dynamics and texture through the expression pedal, drawbars, Leslie speed changes, and physical techniques like glissandos and palm smashes. This constitutes a form of expression through timbre itself, where manipulating the sound carries meaning. It often functions as a symbol indicating the degree of religious exaltation or worldly pleasure. Such manipulation has not merely been confined to expression within individual songs; it has continually reinforced the stylistic sensibility that arises the moment the Hammond sounds.
　Looking at it this way, the Hammond organ differs from other jazz instruments like the piano or saxophone in that it inherently embodies the very conditions necessary for specific subgenres (organ trios, soul jazz, jazz funk) to exist. When a Hammond is placed on stage, it almost automatically invokes a formal framework: “What kind of ensemble will play? What groove and cultural background will the music possess?” In this sense, the Hammond organ can be understood not merely as an instrument, but as a “style-generating device” that shapes a part of jazz itself.
[note]
This episode was originally created by using NotebookLM’s automated generation feature to adapt an article originally published on note  / Substack.
note:
https://note.com/smokestings/n/ne46a663d0870
 
Substack:
https://smokestings.substack.com/p/the-hammond-organ-and-its-formative
 

[Ace Art Academy 0002]
The Fusion of Art, Design, and Space
 
One of the fundamental themes in research on the origins of art is the deep connection between “spatial experience” and “religious ritual.” This goes beyond a mere history of the emergence of artworks; it is directly linked to the question of how humans have symbolized and visualized their relationship with the spiritual world and the natural environment, and how they have created and enjoyed these experiences at the community level. Before art became an object of appreciation, it was a ritual act tied to the creation of a sacred space, serving as an effective catalyst for self-transformation and social solidarity.
Prehistoric cave paintings and rock art served not only as symbols and works of art, but also as a way to embody the space itself, providing a stage for every member of the community to participate in special rites and ceremonies. For example, the “Great Hall” deep within the Lascaux Cave in France has frequently been demonstrated from archaeological and religious studies perspectives to have functioned as a venue for religious ceremonies and rites of passage that went beyond the mere viewing of wall paintings, given its scale, acoustic properties, and layout. Considering the contrast between light and darkness in the cave, the orientation and arrangement of the paintings, and the physical movements and unique experiences induced by the act of drawing itself, it can be said that Paleolithic artistic expression was a comprehensive experience—art—in which space, the body, and ritual were inseparable. It is believed to have been a participatory spatial performance by the entire community, serving as a “nodal point” between the real world and the spiritual world.
Even in the more organized ancient religious architecture of Greece and Egypt, the spatial design of temples and sanctuaries functioned as a trinity of architecture, sculpture, and murals, serving not only as the physical stage for worship but also as a mechanism for cognitive and emotional transformation. As worshippers entered and moved through the architectural space to participate in rituals, the artworks, decorations, and ritual objects themselves served as “experiential art,” deepening the participants’ experience. It is presumed that these spatial experiences, in which art, architecture, and ritual were inextricably intertwined, served as rites of self-transcendence and rebirth for both individuals and the community, as well as occasions for reaffirming social bonds and norms.
As time has progressed, the practice of “art”—while encompassing aspects of exhibition and decoration—has been underpinned by a constant flow of ritualistic, participatory experiences mediated by space. This lineage continues to pulse through 20th-century installation and land art, and extends to contemporary immersive art experiences such as video games and VR (virtual reality). Contemporary digital art spaces and immersive, interactive art are increasingly transforming viewers back into “participants,” reinforcing their character as ritual spaces where the relationships between the self, space, the body, and others are dynamically reconfigured.
In art experiences delivered through games and VR, users immerse themselves within a virtual world, move through the space, and actively engage with narratives and symbolic imagery. These experiences share clear structural similarities with elements of primordial artistic rituals, such as “participation in space,” “self-transformation,” and “communal unity.” Elements such as specific settings and challenges, the reconfiguration of bodily sensations, and interaction among users are the very structures of ritual found in myth and religious traditions; it can be said that, through the development of digital technology, these experiences are beginning to function as “modern rituals” and “modern sacred spaces.”
It is believed that the essence of art cannot be reduced to a mere visual product; rather, it continues to serve as a medium for the creation of spatial experiences and rituality, the reconfiguration of the relationship between the individual and the collective, and access to transcendent realms and symbolic truths. The fact that primal art was spatial and ritualistic speaks to how universal the “trinity of place, body, and symbol” is for human beings, and it can be said that new practices in contemporary virtual space art are also brilliantly inheriting and developing this dynamism within the framework of new technologies.
 
[note]
This episode was originally created by using NotebookLM’s automated generation feature to adapt an article originally published on note / Substack.
 
note:
https://note.com/novoweimar/n/n5d21da0d62bf?magazine_key=m31429223b85b
 
Substack:
https://aceartacademy.substack.com/p/the-fusion-of-art-design-and-space
 
 

[Smoke Stings Studio 0001]
 
 
Western music is often described through the three elements of “melody,” “harmony,” and “rhythm,” and it can be said to be a musical culture where works have been preserved and transmitted through notation centered on the staff. A musical work is, above all else, a “reproducible record (score),” and performance has been positioned as the act of faithfully reproducing that record (score), or reproducing it with added interpretation. Within this framework, the identity of a work is considered to reside primarily in the structure of its notated pitches and rhythms, with the role of performance being to make that structure audible. Therefore, the “high reproducibility” of Western music signifies a kind of rigor predicated on notation and sight-reading, along with a high degree of interchangeability between the written record and its performance.
In contrast, much music of African origin was never intended to be recorded in the form of sheet music. Music is learned physically within the community and passed down from generation to generation through song, dance, and percussion performance. Here, “reproducing something exactly” is not particularly important; rather, it is essential to share certain basic patterns, timelines, and typical phrases while continually adapting to the situation at hand and the reactions of participants. Structures like polyrhythms, interlocking patterns, and call-and-response create different relationships and dynamics each time, yet they support a flexible identity that still allows the music to be recognized as “the same song.” Based on this premise, “not being recorded” might be seen not as a “flaw,” but rather as a condition that keeps the possibility of change constantly open.
In oral African music, a “work” can be understood not as a fixed record (sheet music), but as the very process of constant regeneration through repetition and variation. While a piece may have a core—rhythmic patterns or melodic motifs—how these are combined and to what extent they are transformed varies with each performance. Performers make choices moment by moment, referencing the audience’s reactions, dancers’ movements, the progress of the ritual, and even ambient sounds. Here, identity resides not in the “strict reproduction of structure,” but rather in the “totality of ever-changing patterns within the range recognized by the community as that music.” Therefore, fixing it in sheet music tends to restrict this fluidity and multi-faceted nature, and in some cases carries the risk of stripping away essential parts of the music.
Considering the changes in the modern music industry, we can see that the “high degree of permanence” Western music has traditionally assumed is becoming relative. Due to digitization and the proliferation of streaming services, the economic value of recorded music has declined over the long term, and the model of buying and selling an album as a physical object has been significantly shaken. On the other hand, experiences centered around live performances—concerts, festivals, club events—continue to expand. When recorded music became accessible to anyone at low cost, or even through subscription services offering near-limitless listening, the sense of community and the unique experience of “being there in person” has resurfaced as a central value in music.
This situation suggests similarities with the nature of African music. That is, music experienced as a space where audience physical participation and improvisational changes are closely intertwined tends to hold greater value than music that is replicated and consumed temporally and spatially through recording (documentation). The participatory African structure, epitomized by call-and-response, is widely inherited in contemporary pop, hip-hop, gospel, and club music live performances. Furthermore, the concept of “repetition + subtle variation,” built upon beat loops and polyrhythms, is highly compatible with modern music production using DAWs and DJ culture. Here, we can discern a pattern: the logic of improvisation and experientiality long upheld by African music is permeating the core of global popular music.
Furthermore, considering the consumption pattern known as the experience economy, it becomes easier to understand how music is shifting from an “object to own” to a “space to participate in and experience physically.” Recordings are no longer scarce resources; they have become information easily replicated and shared online. As a result, for artists, recordings increasingly function less as a revenue source and more as a “business card to draw people to live shows.” This structural shift suggests that the African-origin conception of music—one that “doesn’t write things down” and “doesn’t need to reproduce the same thing,” viewing music as a space for live dialogue and collaborative creation—was a model that anticipated the present and future.
Contrasting Western music’s notation-centered approach with African music’s oral tradition and improvisation-centered approach provides a framework for considering fundamental questions—what constitutes a work, what is reproduction, and where does music’s value lie—in relation to contemporary industrial structures. While acknowledging the enormous impact recording technology and notation have had on music history, the practices of African music accumulated outside this framework have become an extremely important point, illuminating the form of “music for the future” centered on experientiality, communal nature, and mutability
 
[note]
This episode was originally created by using NotebookLM’s automated generation feature to adapt an article originally published on note / Substack.
 
note:
https://note.com/smokestings/n/n15a1131e4f9c?app_launch=false
 
Substack:
https://smokestings.substack.com/publish/post/189006888
 

[Ace Art Academy 0001]
 
Bonsai has transcended the realm of mere potted plants and gardening to establish itself as a unique art form originating in Japan. Its essence lies in miniaturizing nature and condensing the principles of the universe, a view of life, and philosophical values within a limited space. Although its origins can be traced back to the Chinese art of penjing, in Japan it developed independently from the Heian period onward, incorporating Zen-inspired views of nature and the aesthetics of minimalism, against the backdrop of the shoin-zukuri gardens of the Muromachi period and the aesthetic sensibilities of the bourgeoisie during the Edo period. The very process of creating a “microcosm” of nature is regarded as a sophisticated act of expression: one that manipulates the vitality of plants and the passage of time through human hands, while simultaneously respecting the inviolability and serendipity of nature.
The key frameworks for evaluating the artistry of bonsai are “minimalism,” “ma,” and “wabi-sabi.” From the perspective of minimalism, we see the thorough elimination of excess, the minimization of components, and the purification of form and space. This is achieved not merely by pruning branches and leaves, but through the precise balancing of each element within a limited volume, thereby offering the viewer infinite room for imagination within the negative space. Furthermore, the concept of “ma” (space) signifies the meaning inherent in physical emptiness itself, creating “invisible value” between branches, between the pot and the soil, and between the tree and the sky. This “ma” resonates with temporal silence and stillness, and it can be said that a refined spirituality is inherent in both the planting process and the experience of appreciation. Furthermore, the spirit of wabi-sabi is a uniquely Japanese aesthetic that embraces the beauty of aging, imperfection, and decay. Whether it be the trunk of an old tree, the fading of bark, or moss-covered roots, the expression of beauty that is unfinished rather than complete, and tranquil rather than vivid, is highly valued, and value is found in savoring this process together.
This Japanese aesthetic has rapidly gained international recognition. In Europe and the United States, bonsai is no longer viewed merely as a niche Asian hobby; instead, it has expanded to be embraced as an element of contemporary art and design, and even as a lifestyle. In the United States, in particular, the concepts of “harmony with nature” and the psychological benefits of bonsai have garnered significant attention. It is increasingly common to display bonsai as part of an exhibition space, and there is a thriving trend toward stylistic adaptations that emphasize freedom of subjective expression. In Europe, on the other hand, there is a strong emphasis on individuality and diversity, and along the Mediterranean coast, this has evolved into a free-form “bonsai-ization” using local tree species such as olive and rosemary. These trends demonstrate that while expanding both the traditional emphasis on the “form” inherent to bonsai and its potential for localization and experimentation, they are also broadening the scope for diverse viewing experiences and aesthetic pursuits.
In Asia, bonsai continues to be valued as an artistic and social symbol, while still cherishing its tradition and prestige. Chinese bonsai has a more decorative and painterly orientation, bringing the dynamism and grandeur of landscape painting directly into three-dimensional space. Meanwhile, in South Korea and Taiwan, styles have developed that blend Confucian tranquility and a view of nature with influences from Japanese bonsai.
This acceptance of bonsai and the diversification of its aesthetic orientations are accelerating on a global scale. From international conventions held in various countries and the development of academic networks among museums and universities, to technological innovations such as the adoption of IoT and biotechnology, bonsai is evolving from a mere traditional art form into a contemporary art form and a social practice. Underlying this trend is a universal and scholarly inquiry into the nature of “beauty” that exists between nature and humanity, as well as the constraints of finite space and irreversible time. Bonsai is increasingly recognized worldwide as an art form that embodies contemporary and scholarly values, where meticulous calculation and chance, stillness and dynamism, and the material and spiritual intersect.
 
[note]
This episode was originally created by using NotebookLM’s automated generation feature to adapt an article originally published on note / Substack.
 
note:
https://note.com/novoweimar/n/n49fbd20c94d3?magazine_key=m31429223b85b
 
Substack:
https://aceartacademy.substack.com/p/the-artistry-of-bonsai