Name: Håkon Kornstad
Nationality: Norwegian
Occupation: Saxophonist, opera singer, composer, improviser
Current release: Håkon Kornstad's latest albums, For You Alone, and Out of the Loop, are out via Jazzland.

If you enjoyed this interview with Håkon Kornstad and would like to know more about his work, visit his official website. He is also on Instagram, Facebook, and twitter.

Over the course of his career, Håkon Kornstad has played with and appeared on recordings with a wide range of artists, including Ingebrigt Håker Flaten, Bugge Wesseltoft, Eivind Aarset, and Jim O'Rourke.

[Read our Ingebrigt Håker Flaten interview]
[Read our Bugge Wesseltoft interview]
[Read our Bugge Wesseltoft interview about improvisation]
[Read our Eivind Aarset interview]
[Read our Jim O'Rourke interview]



When did you first start getting interested in musical improvisation?

It might sound like a cliche, but I started improvising the moment I reached up to a piano. I remember sitting by our piano playing chords and melodies I had heard, and also trying to make my own.

When I was three years old I played my first “concert” - Christmas carols at a children’s party at the hospital where my mom worked. Since then my effort has been about keeping this childlike spirit alive.

Which artists, approaches, albums or performances involving prominent use of improvisation captured your imagination in the beginning?

When I started playing the saxophone at age 13, I immediately started listening to jazz, as if that music just lived inside of the sax. My parents had LPs by Stan Getz, John Coltrane. And I started listening mostly to Getz at first, trying to copy his style and his smooth sax tone.



Later on I discovered Michael Brecker and Jan Garbarek, and they became my biggest influences until I started studying music.



Focusing on improvisation can be an incisive transition. Aside from musical considerations, there can also be personal motivations for looking for alternatives. Was this the case for you, and if so, in which way?

For me music has always been about improvisation.

My struggles have been almost the other way round: trying to get all the theory, the techniques, phraseology and inspiration to be totally internalized, so that everything I do, all the musical stories I tell – comes from me.

What, would you say, are the key ideas behind your approach to improvisation? Do you see yourself as part of a tradition or historic lineage?

We are all standing on the shoulders of each other. My playing is based on the traditions of all the music I have listened to. So I am absolutely part of a historic lineage.

I believe that my own expression is formed in the unique combination of all my sources of inspiration. And also perhaps in how I have interpreted those very inspirations: I hear Stan Getz differently than another saxophone player would hear him, thus I will interpret him differently and sound different.

What was your own learning curve / creative development like when it comes to improvisation - what were challenges and breakthroughs?

The main challenge is to get as fluent as possible on your own instrument, without letting the technique and mannerisms take over your creativity. Almost no one manages that — it is extremely difficult to just let go of everything you know when you finally start to feel that you’re getting good at all the licks and scales and special techniques.

But to me, improvisation is about letting go. Improvisation is  about being able to listen and at the same time bring something to listen to. Virtuosity is nice, but at the same time there has to be restraint.

Tell me about your instrument and/or tools, please. How would you describe the relationship with it? What are its most important qualities and how do they influence the musical results and your own performance?  

I have always just had one saxophone, a tenor Selmer Mk VI from 1966, that I bought when I studied. And I have used the same mouthpiece - Berg Larsen Bronze large bore - since 1998. I think this is mostly because I’m not into collecting horns. But also maybe it’s a good thing - that my equipment and I go way back. To play on that particular horn is almost spinal - it sits very deeply in my brain.

Other tools - I have used an old looping device since its debut in 2002 - the Electrix Repeater. I still use it in solo shows, and I know it upside down. I think this is a good thing, because it doesn’t bring focus away from the story I want to tell.

And then there’s my whistling - it’s like taking the saxophone away and just let the musical engine in my brain speak for itself, without any instrumental hinders. So when I whistle I feel as free as ever.

Then finally - it’s my singing. When I am singing, my mode switches over to a classical musician. I am less comfortable improvising as a singer, because in classical singing all phrases and breaths have to be planned for them to sit correctly.

Can you talk about a work, event or performance in your career that's particularly dear to you? Why does it feel special to you? When, why and how did you start working on it, what were some of the motivations and ideas behind it?

Maybe a cliche this too, but I don’t hold some performances dearer than others. I am a very in the moment person.

I always forget the last gig after I have done it - and when my friends and colleagues ask me what I have done lately, I more than once tend to have forgotten it all.

How do you feel your sense of identity influences your collaborations? Do you feel as though you are able to express yourself more fully in solo mode or, conversely, through the interaction with other musicians? Are you “gaining” or “sacrificing” something in a collaboration?

This, of course, depends on who I am playing or singing with. I love working with musicians who have a lot of space in their work, space for me to be myself. But sometimes it can be a good challenge to be put out of your comfort zone as well - that you just have to be a good musician and fit in.

Then again - working solo is lovely, because I can decide the pace on how the music should move. I can set the tone and the direction, and nobody intervenes. And so - after some solo shows I start missing playing with others.

So it is all a circuit, where all kinds of collaborations can be good.

Derek Bailey defined improvising as the search for material which is endlessly transformable. Regardless of whether or not you agree with his perspective, what kind of materials have turned to be particularly transformable and stimulating for you?

That is a very nice way putting it. But it is easily misunderstood.

I think too many improvising musicians are too concerned with always changing the setup, the material, the lineup, the songs on which to improvise. To counter this I always start my solo shows with the same song - “Sweden”. It is really just a set of multiphonics chords and some lines. I have played it thousand times, and still I can find something fresh to do with it.



Also, it is a way of familiarizing myself with the audience, and a way to tell them abou how I improvise. Some of them might have heard this song before, and now they hear tonight’s version, and they can instantly tell where I am musically at the moment.

When you're improvising, does it actually feel like you're inventing something on the spot – or are you inventively re-arranging patterns from preparations, practise or previous performances?

When I was younger I thought improvisation was solely about inventing new things on the spot. Then I realised - almost everything you play is something you have heard before or played before.

So a little bit of both maybe?

To you, are there rules in improvisation? If so, what kind of rules are these?

I think there is just one major rule. Use your ears.

In a live situation, decisions between creatives often work without words. How does this process work – and how does it change your performance compared to a solo performance?

It depends on how things flow. If they flow easily, we might do a full concert without a single word being said. And if there is a hiccup or misunderstanding, we might have a little “band meeting” on stage.

Eralier on I thought that could be embarrassing. But now I think it’s only interesting for the audience to see how we work together.

Sometimes I even include the audience telling them what we are talking about. To get an insight into how musicians work I think is exciting for anyone.

There are many descriptions of the ideal state of mind for being creative. What is it like for you? In which way is it different between your solo work and collaborations?

My ideal mode is the “stream of consciousness” mode. When - as Joni Mitchell said in an interview - “the blarney is flowing”. It’s just like in life - some days you feel that you just sail through conversations and that your brain is working well. Other days it’s a bit more laggy.

When I was younger I was more self conscious - and I remember that the sound checks were always the best moments, because I didn’t think, just play.

It took some years before I managed to achieve this in concerts.

How do you see the relationship between sound, space and performance and what are some of your strategies and approaches of working with them?

The space and sound of the space is really a part of the instrumentation. It must and shall affect how you play and how the concert turns out. If not you are not improvising.

This is why I think it’s always exciting to play in new spaces, especially when playing or singing acoustical music. It will always affect the music, and mostly in a very good and fruitful way.

In a way, improvisations remind us of the transitory nature of life. What, do you feel, can music and improvisation express and reveal about life and death?

If you are open to expose yourself and reveal yourself in your playing, a concert can be a wrenching experience. But at the same time it can be a healing experience - both for your audience and for you.

I believe that the strength of improvised music is that it can connect with the audience and take their brains out for a walk … If you are opening up yourself, they will open up too, and then they will follow whatever you play.

Those experiences are the most rewarding for me. It’s not easy to describe with words. But maybe that’s the whole point why it’s so important.