EMIL MIJARES
by Angel Matias Peña

From the words of Emil Mijares, "I was six years old when I first learned to play the piano. A piano teacher was hired to give me basics. Like other kids, I resented the discipline because I could have preferred to pick out melodies I liked, but naturally, this was not allowed. I had to play everything I was told."

His words indicated that he really could play the melodies that he liked even without the prior discipline imposed by the teacher. This is naturally the case with promising musicians - playing by ear (oido) before learning how to read notes. In fact, we musicians had to know the sound of the notes we are to read before we even start playing them.

Emil came from a family of musicians and academic scholars who own a high-school in their province of Capiz.

If Toots Dila was a lawyer that preferred to be a professional musician, Emil Mijares was an architect who turned out to be a prolific pianist, composer, arranger, band leader, and musical director of various radio and TV programs and stage plays. He is very creative, and I am probably his foremost admirer.

I enjoyed playing with Emil at Cafe Indonesia for several months. While there he had changed a number of drummers in our quartet of piano, bass, drums and conga because the drummers couldn't keep up to his standards. There was even a time when we played as a jazz duo and even with just the two of us. His swing prompted me to play on top and get "lost in eternity."

We were also together in a number of Upsilon Sigma Phi-sponsored jazz concerts at the University of the Philippines. There were many events and things I can remember about him whiler being together, but one thing that couldn't skip my memory was his serial (or twelve tone) composition titled "Dixieland" composed of trumpet, clarinet, trombone, and rhythm section. That piece called the positive attention of Doctor Eliseo Pajaro who was professor of contemporary composition and UP Dean of the Humanities. That piece was the most contemporary among the pieces we played at that jazz concert. One time in a different setting, somebody requested us to play Dixieland. Lito jokingly said "let's play Emil's Dixieland."

Emil and Ramon Guevarra at one time used to come to my home in Cubao to practice weight lifting (Olympic style) with me. We did the press, snatch and clean-and-jerk. He was very athletic, and I understand he used to do some skin diving in Capiz.

When he had a dance band at La Concha in Sheraton Philippines (now Hyatt) and I had my jazz trio at the Calesa Bar down the ground floor, Emil got into trouble. One rich typical night club bully poured alcohol over his head while playing the piano just because the guy's "request" wasn't played right away due to earlier requests that he had to play. During their break period, Emil came down to the ground floor and stood by the elevator and waited for the guy. The elevator door opened, the guy came and Emil pointed his hand gun at the guy who swiftly ran away and fired his gun outside many times. My group was playing at the time and I heard several shots from outside. I asked Emil what was the matter. While breathing fast he said, "Pare (he is my compadre) tama ka, dapat nga palang lumayas tayo sa bayang ito." I countered, "Ikaw nga ehe." (Pare, you are right when you said you will leave for the U.S. to get out of this malady in night clubs.) He recalled when I said that. And when I told that to him, he said to me, "Tatapak lang ako ng putik sa America, putik na lang ng Pilipinas ang tatapakan ko." (I will only step on the
U.S. mud, I'd rather step on the Philippine mud) was his answer, and that was long before he got into this trouble with that guy.

He went to the U.S. with his beautiful wife, Eisa, who is a lawyer. They lived in Anaheim, California. Emil became active by playing, composing and arranging using his midi computer. But unfortunately he got separated (or divorced?) from Eisa for some reason, I do not know. This is common among jazz musicians' lives. They are artists and idealists. They are not materialistic or else they cannot be true musicians.

Anyway, Emil Mijares is indeed an institution. Listen to his playing recorded many decades ago and dubbed in Adobo Jazz CDs. More about Emil appears in Richie C. Quirino's book "Pinoy Jazz Traditions." Salutations to the one and only Emil Mijares, a great musician the Philippines can be proud of.

Angel Matias Pena Valenzuela City, Philippines April 4,2004

One on One with Emil Mijares
 
Emil Mijares' name as a jazz vibist and pianist first surfaced in the Cafe Indonesia days of the late 1950s. Emil became the musical director of singer Nelda Lopez Navarro (mother of pop singer Leah Navarro) in a string of television shows that spanned almost a decade. With shows such as "It's Me Nelda", "The Lucky Strike Show" and "Nelda at the Hilton" to his credit, Emil made his mark on the local scene.

His aunt, pianist Lourdes Belo, not only graduated from the UP Conservatory of Music, she also pursued further graduate studies at the Julliard School of music in New York. Emil's schools were the street bars and cafes of old Manila that featured nightly jazz performances. Emil caught the Latin-jazz fever of the early 1960s and excelled in that genre. In the early 1970s, Emil organized the Time Machine, a fusion-jazz group ahead of its time that featured his compositions and arrangements.

I have come across Emil's name in the course of many of my one-on-one interviews. It was not surprising for me to find out that Emil decided to migrate to the US where he lives and plays in Los Angeles up to this day. This interview was conducted via e-mail on July 19, 2001, through the prodding of Angel Peña and the assistance of Emil's daughter, Marela Fleck.

Richie C. Quirino - Give us a brief background on your family's roots. Any others in the family with music or art in their veins?

Emil Mijares - I was born on March 16, 1935, and raised in Roxas City, Capiz. My maternal grandfather, Senator Antonio Belo was a pillar of the community. The family's business was mainly rice and sugar, and the processing thereof. Consequently, I spent a lot of time in rural areas. Aside from my family's involvement in agriculture, we owned Capiz Colleges, where I attended high school. Music, literature and art were important elements in our lives.

My mother played the piano and two of my aunts were graduates of the conservatory of music at the University of the Philippines. One of them went on to pursue graduate studies in music at Julliard in New York. So as a little boy, I was listening to Bach, Beethoven, Rachmaninoff and Chopin. Needless to say my first exposure to music was mainly classical. Many years later, as a father, I made sure all my children took piano lessons and were exposed to classic art and literature.

RCQ - How old were you when you first picked up an instrument that you had this funny feeling of wanting to learn and play? Who were your earliest influences? Did you take formal lessons right away and if you did can you name your mentors?

EM - I was six years old when I first learned to play the piano. A piano teacher was hired to give me basics. Like every other kid, I resented the discipline because I would have preferred to pick out melodies I liked, but naturally, this was not allowed. I had to play everything I was told.

When I was 12, I discovered that I could play any tune I heard. I had an "ear," so to speak. Without realizing it, I developed a familiarity with the keyboard, which allowed me to play what I heard. It changed my life in a number of ways. For one thing, it made me very popular at parties. The sound system we have today did not exist during those days, and so the person who could play an instrument was a main source of entertainment in social situations.

Regarding early influences. The first pianist I heard that knocked me off my feet was Stan Kenton. Mainly because I couldn't do what he was doing. He had harmonies that I couldn't quite understand and yet attracted me immensely.

Then I heard Rachmaninoff's Second Piano Concierto, and that blew me away. His harmonies were very much ahead of his time. His progressions, voicings and suspensions were unlike anything I've heard before. This influenced me, and I began experimenting with harmonies, scales and various techniques.

Another one of my earliest influences was Art Tatum. When I first heard him, I was so intimidated by his technique. But I listened to it closely and realized that he didn't have anything more than any of my other influences, other than technique.

I decided that the basic principles that applied to Rachmaninoff and Stan Kenton applied to him as well. And therefore, I targeted the basic principle of harmony--of functional and disfunctional harmonies. I just tried to develop my technique as far as I could. And that eventually brought me to where I am.

As far as mentors, I truly owe a lot to Angel Peña, who guided me in arranging and composing. He taught me all the refinements of my craft. He was way beyond good. In fact, it was scary how good he was. He had a mind that was highly creative and at the same time, computerlike in its ability to analyze theory, application and basically, the sounds around him. He always encouraged me to go a step further, to go beyond the limit.

RCQ - How old were you when you first heard jazz and knew that this was the music that you would pursue for the rest of your earthly life? Who were the local and foreign jazz masters that inspired you then?

EM - I first heard jazz on the radio in 1947. I heard Stan Kenton and was completely overwhelmed. There were sounds that were attractive but totally different. I did not understand why I was totally affected by non-functional chords and chord progressions, and found it breathtaking. I was hearing material that sounded discordant but had an amazing effect on
my emotions and intellect. I've listened to Bartok and to Stravinsky, and although their music was very deep, it didn't affect me the way Stan Kenton's music did. And this made me realize that there was something else here. That this was something I needed to pursue.

My first break as a jazz musician was in radio. It was around 1957, and the name of the program was "Jam Session," and was hosted by Nelda Navarro, a jazz singer and producer. It was a successful start. At that show, I met jazz talents Lito Molina, a really soulful player whose
passages come straight from the heart, and Narding Aristorenas, who happens to be, in my opinion, the greatest jazz musician the Philippines ever produced. He played so skillfully, it was amazing. A visiting American musician, a clarinet player by the name of Tony Scott, told me Narding Aristorenas was among the finest in the world. But I already knew that.

When I met Angel Peña, I was already studying my craft seriously, and he taught me the names of the things I was already doing. He labeled everything, which allowed me to know what to look for when I was doing research. He was highly instrumental in my learning process.

RCQ – You’re known as a jazz pianist and musical director, and very few know about your passion for playing the vibraphone. Could you share with us this little known side about of you?

EM - During the time I was on “Jam Session”, a well-known pianist, Romy Katindig, visited me. I told him I was playing at Club Celebrity with Pete Aristorenas' Band. Romy came to see me, and invited me to join his band somewhere in San Juan, I can't remember. I played vibes for him, and our collaboration was fairly successul. Romy played the piano, and Eddie, his brother, who later played the sax, was playing the congas at that time. He was an excellent Latin percussionist. He had a great feel for Latin rythms, and I have yet to hear anyone who can remotely approach what he did.

RCQ - After World War II, and into the 50's, there is very little known about the jazz happenings. Could you share with us some of the highlights of that period in your life?

EM - In 1952, I went to Manila to pursue my college education. I started out in the school of engineering, and later switched to architecture. I had to concentrate on school, and therefore was relatively isolated from the jazz scene.

RCQ - In your long career as a jazz musician and bandleader, can you mention some names of foreign jazz luminaries that you have jammed with, sessioned with, fronted for or even knew on a personal basis?

EM - In the Philippines, my first encounter with a foreign jazz artist was in the late 50s, when I played with Tony Scott, a well-known clarinet player. I also performed under the baton of the renowned American conductor James DePriest. In the early 70s, I played with Bob Winter, an American jazz pianist who also teaches at Berklee. I also jammed with Broadway Miller, who at that time, was a pianist for George Duke, a famous keyboard player.

In the ‘80s, my band and I fronted for Michael Franks at the Folk Arts Theater. Here in the States, in 1987-88, Kevyn Lettau and I played regularly at the Islander. Concurrently, I was performing regularly with Teddy Edwards, a highly acclaimed tenor sax player.

RCQ - If there is one thing that you feel could have happened and that still remains to be done as an accomplished jazz musician, what is this? 

EM - Despite having been a jazz musician for decades, I don't feel I've actually reached my full potential yet. I'm constantly trying to improve myself. I don't think anyone should stop trying to do that.

RCQ - In your opinion who is the Pinoy jazz musician that deserves to be called the greatest ever?

EM - The late tenor sax player Narding Aristorenas. He would have shone brightly beside any foreign jazz luminary, and would have compared favorably.

RCQ - What do you think the local Pinoy jazz movement lacks to make it a formidable force that would make it a respectable and profitable way of life?

EM - We have a lot of good local musicians. It’s just that the music itself is hard to market. So as a matter of survival, the musicians have to focus on something they can live on. And this takes away from their craft. This is an ongoing problem everywhere. I feel very blessed that I was able to network my way into a profitable position. But significantly, the majority of the work was outside of jazz. I wrote jingles, I was a musical director and arranger. My work in TV and advertising was my bread and butter.

RCQ - Do you have any words of wisdom for the present and future generations of Pinoy jazz musicians?

EM - Keep striving, don't lose hope. At this point, I’d like also to give credit to an unsung hero in Philippine jazz, Mr. Fred Robles. He taught jazz at the University of the Philippines. He is the No. 1 factor in bringing to the fore outstanding Philippine jazz musicians.
 

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