Interview with Zlatko Kaučič

What were your creative beginnings like? How did you become a jazz percussionist?
I was a six- or seven-year-old kid, listening to pop music – the Beatles, Rolling Stones and Italian rock bands, such as Le Orme. I fashioned my first drum set myself from a 10-kg washing powder box, which my mother bought in Italy. I also constructed the drum pedal, I used pot lids instead of cymbals, and I went to the woods to make the drumsticks with my knife. These were the beginnings, then I practised while listening to the music, and also while I was washing the dishes. At the age of 16, while attending school in Nova Gorica, I hooked up with a colleague of mine who played bass, and then I bought a real drum set, I think it was Trova, made in Czechoslovakia. At the age of 17 and a half I left home, my family namely would not come to terms with my love of music, therefore I went to Italy. I played in a band named Hero in Udine, and then in a group called Upupa. With Hero I made a vinyl record, which I lost somewhere in Switzerland. We played a special, symphonic rock, resembling the sound of Genesis or Yes.

How did the experiences acquired in Italy, Switzerland, Portugal and elsewhere shape you artistically?
Utterly. One grows as a musician and as a person, one learns about different cultures. Although Europe had “closed borders” the people were much nicer than today. The difference is obvious. People weren’t greedy for money, if you only think of the hippies. One abided by the “peace, love, rock'n'roll and sex” rule. Each new country, each new experience enabled one to grow not only as a musician but also as a person.

Does your love of sound-producing devices, different unconventional and decontextualized objects stem from the period when you self-fashioned your instruments or is it a subsequent passion?
No, it has stayed in me since then. I am interested in the multifariousness of music, its elements of humour, childishness. I dislike austerity, fustiness, closeness – this is simply not my way of thinking, nor my culture; my culture embraces dialogue, dissimilarity, creating in harmony with the place of residence.
Which music currently affords you most enjoyment – jazz, contemporary composed, improvised music?
All of the above – it’s a coherent whole. That’s what I say to my students – do not opt for only one style of music, it resembles locking yourself up with only one language. My culture of listening is rather diverse – there are things that I dislike, but everybody is capable of not listening. The culture of dialogue is disastrous today, it’s even getting worse and worse, everyone is blabbing, and nobody listens. People are not capable of listening to the silence anymore. Everything is loud and getting louder. Contrarily, my listening embraces the diameter of 360 degrees, and there are also things that I dislike. I am interested in what the musician is trying to communicate, what their message is. It needn’t be a new story, but it needs to come from the heart.

You have played and recorded with a number of musicians involved in diverse genres. Has any of these collaborations shaped or enriched you to the degree that your perception of music has changed?
Absolutely – each of these collaborations are memorable, they are the turning points in my life. The experience of playing with 30-year-olds when you are 17 is also life-changing. One of the most remarkable experiences was to play with Mike Osborn, who has already passed away. In him I saw the expressive power of communicating emotions through jazz. The same composition could sound completely differently the next day. One sees how the person enters music, its inner sense. A landmark experience was also a sojourn in Amsterdam that changed my artistic methods in general; previously, I played mainstream, although, to be honest, I was already quite daring in Spain, I experimented with the poetry by Federico Garcia Lorca, but it was Amsterdam that changed me with its breadth – a free, open city, where I experienced the Dutch scene: from Misha Mengelberg to Han Bennink, but they also played mainstream… I soon realised that free jazz is not something incoherent, you have to be well-versed to play it. Among the persons that changed me was also Steve Lacy, who looked at music from a different angle: who told me what the essence of music really is, how music has to be respected… Paul Bley introduced me to the idea of spatiality in music, about the need to let the music breathe; I realised that when you’re a drummer you don’t need to show your speed or muscle strength, you have to give your attention to the spaces in music, arranging the notes in a nanosecond, as soon as they emerge from your head, which is really hard, but crucial. John Lewis, member of the Modern Jazz Quartet who reinvigorated be-bop, was also an important figure in my life – the phrases he played within the standard be-bop repertory. Owing to such encounters I ceased classifying music in the sense “free jazz is better than bop”.

How do you feel about receiving the Prešeren Award?
It inspired me to channel all my energies into creativity. I believe that I’ve always created fine things in my head. One of the jury members was also Milko Lazar, who’s an astounding musician. We’ve known each other for years, but have not worked together yet. This award helped us get to know each other better and decide to do a joint project in the future. What’s interesting is that neither of us wants to play pure jazz, we proceed from the elements of our emotions, this land.
Could you say something more about your new record, Emigrants?
It was released at the end of April, and I played the songs in Cerkno, but the idea was born last year when I held a concert for the Vegrad immigrant workers from the former Yugoslavia. The record was made at that problematic time when I realised that Slovenians are becoming more and more intolerant. I noticed that the Slovenian nation has lost its former qualities of respect and especially culture. I clearly saw the decrescendo in the system of politicians and exploiters. I recorded the music in Italy in one day. Leo Feigin of the Leo Records accepted it immediately, he could identify with the topic, being a Russian emigrant himself. That was my contribution – a modest one, but still a contribution. To do something against this impassivity. In short, I am overcome with worry.

What is your tip for the jazz festival concert-goers?
My suggestion is – that they should all come! We are going to perform the suite for the orchestra and my young combo for the first time. The people will able to see what can be achieved, they will enjoy the unique dialogue between the string ensemble and the combo. I see the concert as the beginning of something new; what’s positive is the collaboration and not rejection. Dedicated to Tomaž Simon, the Fields project is a very subtle one, it incorporates various levels of music, resembles a series of films, excerpts from my imagination and Tomaž’s. Their crosspoints at times become very meditative, then rather abrupt, at times verging on noise, also punk or heavy metal – in this sense they are the fields of amazement.