The idea that being a part-time investor is going to bring you wealth and make you rich enough anytime soon to retire and enjoy the life of as a country squire, tending grapes at your chateau in France is delusional. Better to assume that your efforts as an individual investor will leave you in a position “down the road of life” to enjoy long stretches of time doing things you enjoy. Maybe even months or years pursuing interests for their own sake, regardless of whether you get paid or not. I’m a big fan of the notion we should be able to take time to pursue activities simply because we want to – without worrying about any financial ramifications. That’s the point of this blog, to help ensure you have the means to create and enjoy a full life.
|Ask yourself, is it the wealth, or what you can do with the money, that interests you most? I’m a big fan of the notion that we should be able to take time to enjoy ourselves without worrying about financial constraints; as money simply represents the potential of what can be achieved by spending it.|
The wealth of Croesus isn’t waiting for anyone diddling in the markets, or looking to make a fast buck off of gold or real estate. If you want to make the Big Money, then you had better be prepared to put the fun stuff on hold and get busy doing Big Work. Do you really believe that you can play competitively on the same court as any of the 491 players currently in the NBA? What this meant for an individual investor really hit home for me many years ago, after reading John Train’s book Money Masters of Our Times.
A collection of interviews with 17 of the best investors alive, including the usual suspects like Buffett and Soros, the relentless drive, and focus of these individuals is breathtaking. And their idea of fun is to be relentlessly driven to focus on wealth accumulation. When one of the billionaires Train interviewed is asked about his very pedestrian lifestyle he replied that money was the scorecard. If he actually spent money, his score would go down. Ask yourself the tough question; is it the money, or what you can do with the money, that interests you?
As a founding member of the rock band YES, drummer Bill Bruford subsequently went on to a sophisticated engagement with straight ahead and several of its iterations through his evolving jazz group Earthworks. Yet on his way to becoming a jazzman, Bruford left YES, played with the band Genesis (as a friend of Phil Collins) and joined King Crimson (as a nemesis of Robert Fripp). He tells his story in Bill Bruford – The Autobiography, originally published in 2009. This marks Bruford as more of a musical flaneur than journeyman drummer.
|That a jazz player engages with a rock band is not surprising, but completely changing one’s skin is a different matter.|
That a jazz player engages with a rock band is not surprising. Sonny Rollins plays lyrically (and uncredited) with the Rolling Stones on Tattoo You and then there is Branford Marsalis’ extensive touring with Sting. Even a hootenanny is possible with Wynton Marsalis and Willie Nelson recording two successful albums together. Conversely, Red Hot Chili Peppers bassist Flea recording with Joshua Redman on Momentum shows the musical collaborations flow in both directions.
But completely changing one’s skin is a different matter. Though rockers like Peter White (collaborator with Al Stewart) and Craig Chaquiso (Jefferson Starship stalwart) both chose to pursue a different sound and enjoy influential smooth jazz careers. Even a rock legend, Rolling Stones drummer Charlie Watts, has been a leader on several jazz albums (most recently with the Danish Radio Big Band). Yet Bruford’s evolution as a jazz musician has a different feel to it. I recently played the two albums Close to the Edge (YES, 1972), and Random Acts of Happiness (Earthworks, 2004), back to back. Perhaps Bruford’s career doesn’t ever really bifurcate with rock and pop segregated from modern jazz?
This short note is inspired by the fact that Sol LeWitt died in April 2007, and since then exhibits of work created after his death continue to occasionally pop-up.
“The idea itself, even if not made visual, is as much a work of art as any finished product.” LeWitt wrote this in 1967 and it remains, perhaps, the most insightful expression of what his conceptual artwork was about; the idea, not the object. Further, LeWitt was widely known for his (even now!) use of other artists to actually create his “finished product” so it is not unreasonable that people assume LeWitt was above the dirty work of putting pen-to-paper or brush-to-wall. This notion of the artwork itself, not being the point, dogged LeWitt throughout his career. Yet his later work is so colorful and lyrical that the label of conceptual no longer seems appropriate. His comment from 1982, “I would like to produce something I would not be ashamed to show Giotto,” may better speak to LeWitt’s true sensibilities as an artist.
|Sol LeWitt art should not be defined by hard logic and cool detachment. LeWitt’s work is better appreciated for the humor, color, and inventiveness that Giotto would have certainly enjoyed.|
LeWitt’s process of seeking every combination of a series served among other things, to ensure that he had plenty of material to work with. Seemingly endless variations of bands in four directions were turned out in seemingly endless varieties of mediums. The consistency of the form allowed for an opportunity to fully explore the interaction of colors, or in the case of sculpture, the interaction of light and shadow. LeWitt repeatedly set strict limits that allowed for infinite variety. Or, to use a phrase attributed to many but best expressed by Jorge Luis Borges, LeWitt created “an infinite sphere whose center is everywhere and whose circumference is nowhere.”
|“Those who understand art only by what it looks like often do not understand very much at all.” Sol LeWitt, 1973|
For reasons most people will not understand, I’m excited about a little work recently added to my collection of ephemera by the artist Sol LeWitt. Part of the reason this work resonates more than many others is due to the evolution of my goals as a collector. More than other items, many of which frankly offer more pleasing aesthetics, this drawing exemplifies the ideas that draw me to the artist. And to LeWitt’s stated goals as an artist.
The pencil sketch was likely the original conception of a wall drawing intended for an exhibit at the John Weber Gallery in March 1986. I have the invitation to that particular show, and now the working drawing for a signature piece from the exhibit. Further, Lewitt was meticulous in documenting his output, and in a catalog of wall drawings published in 1989, this work can be clearly identified as #472. Its most unique attribute is that it was gray – no colors were used, even for the background. As with so many of the wall drawings designed for specific exhibitions, the assumption was that the work would eventually be painted over, as was the case here. My research has not yet – and may never – come up with a photo of the actual painting.
|From early on in his professional career, Lewitt emphasized that the idea was more important than the final artifact – painting, sculpture, wall drawing, etc…|
“I find it difficult to write a statement that will be a correct summation of my philosophy of art. The work itself seems to subvert such statement figurines the total of one’s work creates its own philosophy. This emerges from work to work, successful ones or failures, finding its own dimensions. The total of all past work exerts its influence on the new work. The new work combines the reality of the old and destroys the idea in which it was conceived. It cannot be understood in the context of other work, the original idea is lost in a mess of drawings, figurines, and other ideas.”
“Sol LeWitt is very much aware of the traps and pitfalls of language, and as a result is also concerned with enervating “concepts” of paradox. Everything LeWitt thinks, writes, or has made is inconsistent and contradictory. The “original idea” of his art is “lost in a mess of drawings, figurines, and other ideas.” Nothing is where it seems to be. His concepts are prisons devoid of reason. The information on his announcement for his show (Dwan Gallery, Los Angeles, April 1967) is an indication of a self-destroying logic. He submerges the “grid plan” of his show under a deluge of simulated handwritten data. The grid fades under the oppressive weight of “sepia” handwriting. It’s like getting words caught in your eyes.”
The name Grachan Moncur III floats mostly unremarked through the music of post-bop jazz, not unlike his opening notes on the title cut of his second album as a leader, Some Other Stuff. Despite walk-on roles in biographies of Dizzy Gillespie and Wayne Shorter, and mentioned favorably in interviews with Sonny Rollins and Jackie McLean, Moncur remains mostly a shadow from the 1960’s even with his trombone and compositions appearing on the recordings of not just McLean and Shorter, but also Herbie Hancock, Joe Henderson, Lee Morgan, Benny Golson and Art Farmer.
Grachan Moncur III: The Beginning of an Evolution
Due to myriad problems both personal and professional, Grachan Moncur’s first and most satisfying album, Evolution from 1963, proved to be a high water mark. Until the new millennium, Moncur was only occasionally to be heard, and mostly on albums by artists such as Archie Shepp and Cassandra Wilson. While Moncur did have an important comeback with Exploration in 2004, featuring trumpeter Tom Hagans and reedman Gary Bartz, this album is hardly a simple reprise of his earlier success. Exploration requires a taste for the avant-garde and can be challenging for the casual listener. Which might also be said for much of Moncur’s music after Evolution. And just perhaps, is one of the reasons he has struggled to gain wider appreciation.
After high school, Grachan Moncur went on the road with the Ray Charles Big Band in 1959, a time he recalls fondly in later interviews. Leaving the band a couple of years later for health reasons, Moncur spent the next several months woodshedding and experimenting with other musicians. It was his friend, sax man Jackie McLean, who helped kick-start a journey of musical exploration still underway, Moncur now 79 years old. This turning point would be McLean’s 1963 Blue Note release One Step Beyond.
On the recommendation of my good friend David, I have been perusing The Lewis Mumford Reader. It might be accurate to describe Lewis Mumford as a modern polymath and an apologist for the American mind. Born in 1895 his work describing the importance of American philosophers – particularly Emerson, Thoreau, Whitman, and Melville – sounds remarkably relevant, even today.
One of the more interesting essays in the collection included his description of how the Renaissance ultimately led to the creation of the American Way. This line of thought started off with Mumford’s observation that the Renaissance didn’t represent a new beginning, but instead marked a start of the disintegration and fragmentation of the old. In his view, the Renaissance was not so much a “rebirth” of Western Civilization as the death knell of the medieval world.
Where the consensus considers Copernicus, Galileo, Leonardo and Newton standard bearers for an inevitable march forward Lewis Mumford offers a more nuanced view. Specifically, that the work of these and other innovators was a pitched battle against entrenched interests, in particular, the Roman Catholic Church. Piling on over time, this combined force of new ideas served to finally undermine the power of outdated institutions and allow for something new to be built on a firmer foundation. That something new was most clearly expressed in the new world of the New World.
Finding myself home alone for a long weekend, I was determined to play as much of Miles Davis albums from my collection as time would permit. There was not enough time to hear all 42 titles. Which was fine since many of these albums are played frequently, with Jack Johnson, Seven Steps to Heaven and Miles Ahead at the top of my usual playlists. This allowed me to focus on CDs that had not been heard in a long time. For the half-dozen albums that contain two, or more, CD’s I just played the first disc. That list included Circle in the Round, Agharta, Big Fun and the Bootleg Sessions.
The experiment was a raging success and there will be some changes to the usual suspects that end up in my car and office over the next few months. For today’s Jazz-Notes I’m going to make some observations, many likely to be inflammatory for hardcore fans.
A Journey into the Miles Davis Albums
The best surprises were two of Miles Davis albums separated by thirty years; Miles Davis and the Modern Jazz Giants that included recording sessions from 1954 and 1956, and Tutu from 1986. We’ll start with Jazz Giants since it needs some context. There are, in fact, two albums with this name, both released by Prestige and recorded by Rudy Van Gelder. The first was recorded during two separate sessions in 1954 and ultimately titled Bags Groove (though the actual song title is Bags’ Groove) with Sonny Rollins, Milt Jackson, Thelonious Monk, Horace Silver, Percy Heath and Kenny Clarke. A reissue in 1987 included multiple takes of Bags’ Groove and But Not For Me. A terrific album, but less impressive than the album released in 1956 with cuts from one of the 1954 sessions and another from 1956. It was remastered in 2008 by Rudy Van Gelder.
Miles Davis and the Modern Jazz Giants provided an unexpected jolt. As happened often over the weekend, a song would pop out and send me to the liner notes. Here the line-up on a single tune, ‘Round Midnight, was John Coltrane, Red Garland, Paul Chambers, Philly Joe Jones. The difference between the sound of the earlier session in December of 1954 and the ‘Round Midnight session of 1956 was incredible. If there was ever a question regarding Miles ability to evolve intelligently, it is answered by this album. The journey to Kind of Blue seems inevitable.
After an explosive move up in January, we were subsequently reminded that stocks (and indexes) can still go down. This is a time when it is especially important to avoid emotional reactions and focus on intelligent decision-making. Here are a few investment thoughts, offered up once before, that might be worth considering.
1. Don’t make more predictions than your data can support. A collection of just four or five exchange-traded funds (ETF) is all most people need for a successful retirement account. If you own individual equities then understand the basics: what does the company do, how does it make money from that and what does it do with the profits? Beyond this, short of being a member of the company’s management team, there’s not much else you can know for sure. Assume nothing and avoid the temptation to believe a business is holding a winning lottery ticket. As Warren Buffett once noted, “You should invest in a business that even a fool can run, because someday a fool will.”
Focus on the not-too-distant future
2. Near-term forecasts are more certain than 10-year projections. Remember all of the investment analysts who were predicting a big drop in February with an immediate rebound? Me neither. The future has always been hard to predict and this fact is unlikely to change just because investors wish it would. Always be suspicious of undue emphasis on the long-term, especially when the short-term isn’t looking so good.
Understand your assumptions
3. Be aware of the weakest links in your argument. Without doing this, it is pretty much impossible to know when it is time to exit an investment position. When a key assumption changes, or more likely proves incorrect, it may be best to exit the investment and move on to the next good idea. Put another way, keep a lookout for what you didn’t think about when entering an investment.
Be wary of precision
4. It is better to be vaguely right than precisely wrong. Too much detail gives a false sense of security. This explains why successful panhandlers always ask for an exact handout, like sixty-three cents. It’s just human nature to think someone predicting that earnings for the S&P in 2012 will be $107.63 must know more than someone who simply suggests that earnings will be less than $100. Yet a prediction of a range – less than $100 – can prove more helpful in understanding the underlying assumptions, such that the S&P will struggle to achieve growing earnings.
Leave yourself an intellectual paper trail
5. By definition, our memories are terribly biased. During my 13-month experiment as a day trader (using a Scottrade account specifically for this purpose), I kept a spreadsheet documenting every trade, the cost to trade and the profit or loss on every position. While I ended up with about an 8% return (this was way back in 2007, when it was pretty hard to lose money in the markets), the amount of work involved as well as some of the risks assumed, made it obvious that market timing isn’t a good strategy. Being able to revisit the actual data has been a valuable reminder for staying focused on what works for me. I keep remembering how wildly successful I was, a notion difficult to reconcile with the actual data.