Drummer / composer Franklin Kiermyer pursues a singular quest. "I made a decision when I was young that it was better to follow my own ideals than to try and fit in. I did alot of different things along the way - had opportunities and learned a lot - but I always kept feeling that there was something I was supposed to do that would reveal itself if I listened close enough. Something I had to uncover in myself."
Rather than follow the more usual course of apprenticeship as sideman or journeyman player, Kiermyer has developed by spending much of his time gathering prayers and chants of different traditions and studying these examples of ritual spiritual music. He has developed a style of drumming that is based on the common roots of these various traditions and is just at home playing with Umdze Lodro Samphel, the chief chant master of the Karma Kagyu lineage of Tibetan Buddhism, as he is playing with Pharoah Sanders, one of the legends of ecstatic American music.
"I think most people come up playing more from a stylistic tradition, but I had find the way that would work for me. I was always more interested in studying the underlying principles of how music felt rather than its history. I wanted to feel what the music did and then understand how it worked so that I could find my own way of creating that environment."
Kiermyer's Jewish upbringing exposed him to a musical heritage that helped form the foundation for his growth. "The Saturday morning services in the traditionally orthodox Synagogue that we belonged to were among my first experiences with the power of music. I always felt very warm in that environment. The singing would get loud, very intense and passionate. There was a drone underlying the chanting that would really move me; I knew there was something profound happening. I've always tried to access that feeling of power and mysticism in my work. We all come from someplace powerful. I think it's our job to find out where."
He began percussion studies at age 12. "Playing tympani helped me to understand the sensation of drum tuning and tone quality. I learned how to let the notes ring out and overlap in a controlled way. I tried to play my drumset with that kind of resonance. When I was young, I used to listen to a lot of my Dad's BigBand and New Orleans records. I loved Sid Catlett and Baby Dodds and Minor Hall and Gene Krupa. All of these guys had a big beat. It felt loose and sure and I really responded to that."
Franklin started his professional career playing at supper clubs and private parties with his high school music teacher, Tony Kershaw. A frequent venue, a Hungarian social club, also presented European Gypsy trios performing traditional Balkan folk songs. Franklin was struck by the similarities between their melodies and the sounds of his own roots. "I was really impressed with Bela Bartok's music. He cut to the roots of the music around him. The Gypsy players at the Hungaria had a spirit and urgency to their playing that felt so familiar. I could see the relationship between African, Mid-Eastern, Asian, and Balkan music so clearly and trace the vibe back to a common and ancient source."
Concurrent with his explorations in sound, Franklin's quest for spiritual focus grew. Sensing the truth that lay at the heart of all the world's religions, he began to meditate and study the teachings of Tibetan Buddhist masters. "I had some kind of simple feeling that all the world's religions sought liberation at root. I knew that this could only be realized by going beyond concepts."
After leaving college at 18, where he majored in percussion and composition, He started to take road trips with R&B bands. During this period Kiermyer was always looking for precedents that would help him focus his own direction. The music of the John Coltrane Quartet featuring drummer Elvin Jones would have a great impact. "Records like "Transition" and "Sun Ship" and "First Meditations" have been great inspirations and examples for me. I had never heard music so unanimously encompassing and individually focused at the same time. I really didn't identify this music as Jazz per-se. For me, it seemed like it was simply a vehicle for transcending conceptual fabrication."
A fire burned him out of the loft where he was living, destroying his drums and all the music he had written up to that time. "It was on July 21st, my 21st birthday. I was returning home and arrived just in time to see all my belongings go up in smoke as the building burnt down to the ground. I knew it was time to get serious. I borrowed some instruments, some friends gave me a place to stay and a place to practise. I really got into a regime. I'd practice all day and then each night I'd get together with other musicians to play the most spontaneous music we could. I'd go around to the clubs to listen and sit in when it seemd right. I'd take a gig only if I felt that the music would lead to that feeling I was looking for. I tried to pursue what I was hearing inside and tried to avoid situations that I felt would inhibit my chances for playing in that way."
Emerging from this transitional period with his own sound at the drums and a set of compositions to act as vehicles, Franklin began performing and recording this music. "I've always felt that music was supposed to be a vehicle for something immediate and revealing. I had started playing much broader phrases across the bar line. I tried to expand the energy as much as possible. I was trying to get at something I knew, but hadn't yet heard. I've always been working to invoke that open experience of heart and freedom."