Ornithology: A Charlie Parker Alto Sax Solo Transcription

OrnithologyThe beboppers of the 1940s and 1950s advanced the use of contrafacts,* and the godfather of bebop, alto saxophonist Charlie Parker, used them liberally. After the many tunes he wrote over the chord changes to “I Got Rhythm,” the contrafact he probably recorded most was the tune “Ornithology,” which utilizes the changes to the old standard, “How High the Moon.”

I have no idea exactly how many recordings exist of Bird holding forth on “Ornithology.” I only know that there are lots. The tune was clearly a favorite vehicle for Parker, and the transcription shown here captures his first 32 bars of an extended flight. I hope to transcribe the rest of it in time, but the process keeps getting interrupted by other priorities, so for now at least, I thought I’d share this much of Bird’s solo with you. It’s plenty ’nuff to whet your chops on.

Charlie Parker not only had a phenomenal technique, but an equally amazing melodic concept. Both are on display here. Just click on the image and enjoy soaring with Bird.

If you enjoyed this post, visit my Jazz Theory, Technique & Solo Transcriptions for many more transcriptions, licks and technical exercises, and educational articles on jazz.

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* Contrafacts are new melodies set to the harmonies of preexisting tunes.

Tonight by the Tracks: The Foibles of Practicing the Saxophone When You’re Me

I’ve found a new place to practice my saxophone along my beloved railroad tracks.

If you’ve followed the musical side of this blog for any length of time, you know that I do most of my practicing in my car, parked by a CSX line that threads the countryside from Grand Rapids to Lansing. Living in an apartment has forced me to find a suitable “studio” away from my living quarters, and since I’ve loved trains since I was a kid, the tracks are it. I don’t mind this arrangement at all. I’ve been getting in my practice this way for years, even a couple decades, and I like it so well that even if I owned a house, I would probably still venture out to the tracks frequently.

Anyway, these past couple of months I’ve begun parking in a little turn-in next to the tracks between Alto and Elmdale, which is like hanging out halfway between Huh? and Nowhere. I love this spot. Parking parallel to the tracks, I can see the distant signal lights both behind me in the mirror and in front of me through the windshield and can spot the headlamps of approaching trains from far off. It’s great.

Of course, the sight of a car parked off to the side with its lights out and the dim outline of a person sitting inside it looks a bit suspicious, and once in a while, the cops stop and check me out. I don’t mind–they’re doing exactly what they should be doing, and usually they’re pretty nice about it. The guy who investigated me tonight was a good example.

I was sitting there ripping through “Ornithology” with my Aebersold CD when a patrol car pulled up and melted both of my retinas with its spotlight. Okay, no sweat. I kept on playing, figuring that doing so would provide the quickest explanation for what I was about.

I figured right. When the policeman walked up to my window, he was laughing. “What’s the matter? Wife won’t let you practice at home?” he said. I explained my living situation and how I had been parking by this stretch of tracks for many years. “Yeah, I think I’ve seen you out here before,” he said. “You know, my father-in-law plays trombone, and my mother-in-law gave him crap for playing it last Thanksgiving.”

“Hey,” I said, “someone understands!” I handed him my license and let him run his routine. Then we wished each other well, he took off, and I returned to my practicing. It was a clear January night with a new moon, not very cold, and through my side window I could see Orion the Hunter striding through a riot of stars in the southern sky. In my rearview mirror, a green signal light announced the approach of a train still miles down the line. Such are the perks of practicing by the railroad tracks. Why would I ever trade them for playing indoors?

Christmas Day Severe Weather and Tornadoes in Dixie Alley

I hadn’t planned to post today, but with the severe weather that the NWS has been forecasting for several days now already underway in east Texas and conditions ripening across southern Dixie Alley from lower Louisiana into Alabama, I thought I’d pin a few of today’s 12Z NAM forecast soundings to the wall to let you see what the squawk is about. I’m focusing on Louisiana because it seems to me that, from a storm chasing perspective, that’s where the best chances are for daylight viewing–not that I think there will be a whole lot of people chasing down in the woods and swamps on Christmas, but I need some kind of focus for this large and rapidly evolving event. Remember, the sun sets early this time of year.

To summarize the situation, a vigorous trough is digging through the South, overlaying the moist sector ahead of an advancing cold front with diffluence across Louisiana, Mississippi, and Alabama. Shear and helicity are more than adequate for supercells and strong tornadoes, with forecast winds in excess of 100 knots at 300 millibars, 80 at 500, and 45-50 at 850, ramping up to 60 at night per the Baton Rouge NAM.

I’ll start with three soundings in southwest Louisiana at Lake Charles. It’s obviously a potent-looking skew-T and hodograph, with over 1,600 J/kg SBCAPE and more-than-ample helicity. No need for me to go into detail as I’ve displayed parameters that should be self-explanatory; just click on the image and look at the table beneath the hodograph.

What I do find noteworthy is the very moist nature of this sounding, suggestive of overall cloudy conditions and HP storms. This changes quickly around 20Z (second image), with much drier air intruding into the mid-levels.

From there on, temperatures at around 700 mbs begin to warm up until by 23Z (third image) they’ve risen from 1.5 degrees C (18Z) to 5.9–a gain of nearly 4.5 degrees–and a slight cap has formed and becomes strong by the 00Z sounding (not shown). Note how the surface winds have veered, killing helicity as the cold front moves in. End of show for Lake Charles.

Farther east in the Louisiana panhandle, you get much the same story at Baton Rouge, except the more potent dynamics appear later and more dramatically, with 1 km helicity getting downright crazy. I’ve shown two soundings here. The first, at 18Z, has a dry bulge at the mid-levels but moistens above 650 mbs, and by 20Z (not shown) it has become even moister than its Lake Charles counterpart, to the point of 100 percent saturation between 600 and 800 mbs. Helicities are serviceable but less impressive than to the west.

There’s a big change in the second sounding, this one for 00Z. The dewpoint line sweeps way out, and look at that wind profile! With a 60 kt low-level jet, helicities are no longer also-rans to the Lake Charles sounding; at over 500 m2/s2, they’re hulkingly tornadic, and the sigtor is approaching 13.

Mississippi is obviously also under fire, and I hope the folks in Alabama have taken the 2011 season to heart and purchased weather radios that can sound the alert at night.

To those of you who chase today’s setup–and I know there are a few of you who are down there–I wish you safe chasing. But my greater concern is for

the residents of Dixie Alley who live in harm’s way and aren’t as weather-savvy, and some of who–despite the NWS’s best efforts–may not be aware of what is heading their way this Christmas Day.

Having just glanced at the radar, I see that the squall line is now fully in play. I’ll leave you with a screen grab of the reflectivity taken at 1725Z.

Have a blessed and safe Christmas.

ADDENDUM: In watching the radar, it’s obvious that the 12Z NAM was slow by an hour or so. Can’t have perfection, I guess.

Winter System Hits the Midwest and Great Lakes

As I write, a 988 mb low is passing just south of me, and with it, a major winter storm is covering areas west of me with snow while in the Southeast, several states are under a 5 percent risk of tornadoes per the Storm Prediction Center.

I’m not going to write a lot. I just want to tip my hat to this system as it moves through, because it is a humdinger. Here in Grand Rapids, we’re presently getting a lot of wind and rain, and the rain will change to snow later tonight.

Snowfall here looks to be minimal, an inch or less, but not a whole lot farther north, conditions promise to worsen quickly, with accumulations up to eight inches or more over the next 24 hours. The first map is a 12Z NAM snowfall map, courtesy of F5 Data; click on it to enlarge it. Below it, to demonstrate the contrasting weather conditions, is the SPC Day 1 tornado risk.

Mini-Tornadoes: Defining a Microscale Mystery

In Europe they have mini-tornadoes. There was a time in my callow, formative years as a storm chaser when I was unaware that there was such a thing, but one learns. Besides, even veteran American chasers could make the same mistake as I, and probably have done so many times. From the reports, photos, and videos I’ve seen, a mini-tornado so closely resembles a standard-issue tornado in appearance and effect that here in the United States, most chasers would find it impossible to tell the difference.

However, Europeans–newscasters and reporters in particular, who are largely responsible for disseminating the mini-terminology–are more discriminating and not easily impressed. In Europe, it seems that anything less than a Great Plains-style wedge isn’t considered a full-fledged tornado.

Not that wedges are a common occurrence across the pond. The perspective I’ve described appears to be based not on great familiarity with tornadoes, but rather, on a paucity of experience with them other than what is gleaned through viewing videos of the mile-wide monsters that stalk the American prairies. Now those are tornadoes! Compared to them, a trifling, block-wide vortex is … eh. Small change.

Plenty of U.S. chasers would take exception. The problem is, no mini-tornado criteria have been established that could provide a basis for arguing that probably 99.9 percent of mini-tornadoes are simply tornadoes. Not that at least one attempt hasn’t been made to provide such criteria. Back in 2006, in a thread on Stormtrack, I myself presented a plausible set of determinants for mini-tornadoes, complete with a damage-rating scale, and I’m surprised that the NWS never adopted it. Follow my logic and you’ll see for yourself that true mini-tornadoes are a phenomenon few Europeans, let alone Americans, ever encounter.

Mini-Tornado Criteria

A true mini-tornado must meet the following standards:
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•  It is five feet tall or less. Of course, this implies an extremely low cloud base. You’d have to squat in order to get a decent photo.
•  Width: Two feet or less.
•  Human response: You feel a strong urge to say, “Awww, ain’t that cute!” You want to pet it and maybe even take it home with you and give it a nice bowl of debris.
•  The synoptic conditions can be contained within five city blocks.
•  Overshooting tops can be viewed from above by taking an elevator to the ninth floor.
•  Damage (introducing the M Scale):

  • M0: Damage?
  • M1: No noticeable damage.
  • M2: No, there’s no stinking damage. Now go away.
  • M3: Okay, some damage now. Card houses knocked over unless securely glued together. Hair ruffled. That sort of thing.
  • M4: Now we’re talking damage. Well-built card houses scattered into a lawn-size version of 52-Card Pickup. Ill-fitting toupes snatched away. Nasty things happen when you spit into the wind.
  • M5: Inconceivable inconvenience. Securely glued card houses swept entirely away and lofted across the lawn. Well-gelled hair twisted into impressive new designs. You want to get out of the way of this baby.

I hope this helps. Of course, according to these criteria, I suppose the UK has yet to experience a true mini-tornado. Someone should probably inform the press. And none of us should hold our breaths waiting for such an occurrence, because, truth be told, mini-tornadoes are extremely rare.

But not utterly non-existent. The late, talented storm chaser Andy Gabrielson managed to capture on video his personal encounter with a good mini-tornado candidate on May 24, 2010, in South Dakota.* Check out his YouTube video at 1:56, and like me, you too can say to yourself, “What the heck was that?”
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* The footage up to 1:56 is not a mini-tornado.

Building a Baseline of Ability: Revisiting an Oldie-But-Goodie Music Post

The problem with blogging is that old material tends to get buried beneath new posts. Jewels are lurking down there in the sedimentary layers, and they deserve to be brought back to the surface from time to time. Some of them surprise me. I think, Did I write that? It seems like someone else sharing wisdom and encouragement with me that I can benefit from today.

Such is a post from back in May 2010, two-and-a-half years ago, which I titled “Mastering the Sax: Building a Baseline of Ability.” I hope you will find it helpful and encouraging, as did I in rereading it.

Diminished Whole-Tone Lick around the Cycle of Fifths

Tonight’s post is low on text but high in content. Click on the image to enlarge it, then print it out and take it with you to your next practice session and start adding a nice new lick to your diminished whole-tone collection.

Not much to say about this little gem that you can’t figure out for yourself, but here are a few points of interest:

    ♦  The lick begins and ends on the flat seventh of the V+7(#9) chord.
    ♦  Beats two and three highlight the major triad that’s formed off of the raised fifth of the parent chord. For example, if you’re playing a D+7(#9), the raised fifth is A#–or Bb, enharmonically–and beats two and three will accentuate an A# (Bb) major triad. You can look at it as chord superimposition.

    ♦  The last beat emphasizes the two “identity tones” of the dominant chord, leaping a tritone from its third to its lowered seventh.

That’s all. Have fun with it! And if you enjoyed this post, check out my large and ever-growing library of jazz theory, technique, and solo transcriptions.

Looking Back to October 17: A Wild Radar Image

On Wednesday night, October 17, severe storms rolled across the South, dropping a series of tornadoes across Arkansas and Mississippi, mostly in the latter state. The SPC’s storm reports show a tally of fifteen tornado reports. I’d image that the final number of actual tornadoes turned out to be smaller, as some reports no doubt were caused by the same tornado at different points along its path. A number of injuries resulted from the storms, but thankfully, no fatalities.

This was the last notable severe weather outbreak of the year and about the best that the late season of 2012 could squeak out.* A glance back at this date over a mugful of Fat Tire amber ale isn’t a bad way to occupy myself on this chilly November night. That evening stands out in my mind due to some crazy radar images from a tornadic storm that moved between Canton and Carthage, Mississippi. The storm appeared to be a hybrid, part supercell and part bow echo with a potent bookend vortex. It was the darndest thing.

I don’t know exactly what was going on with this storm, but I certainly was surprised to see such a classic hook form out of a run-of-the-mill bow echo. In the storm-relative velocity screen, captured at the same time as the base reflectivity, you can see two pronounced couplets, one for the hook and the other for the bookend. It was fascinating to watch these features evolve.

And it got even more interesting. In a Facebook interchange over the images when they were brand-new and the storm was in progress, Matt Sellers pointed out the possibility of yet a third area of circulation at the interface between the forward-flank downdraft of the westerly located supercell and the rear-flank downdraft of the bookend mesocyclone to the northeast. If you look at the reflectivity image, you’ll see what he was talking about.

However, I don’t see anything in the storm-relative velocity grab (captured at the same time) that suggests strong rotation in that area. I just see outflow pushing south-southeastward, and not all that vigorously. Then again, I’m not skilled enough at radar interpretation that I couldn’t have missed some subtlety. What Matt said makes sense, and the somewhat detached blob of red behind the gust front seems to corroborate his thinking. The area in question could have seen some spinups that would never have been detected on radar. Interesting to think about.

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* In terms of severe thunderstorms and tornadoes. Hurricane Sandy obviously qualified as severe weather, but not as an outbreak. She was in a separate category, and one I haven’t cared to touch. Her impact was too vast, and my knowledge of hurricanes is too limited.

How to Play Chord Changes: Melodicism Versus Change-Running

It was back in my college jazz band days that I first became concerned with “playing the changes”–that is, improvising in a way that insinuated the harmonies of a tune. Prior to that, I didn’t know what changes were. My inner ear had been informed by the blues and the psychedelic, proto-metal, and progressive rock of the seventies–wonderful styles of music, but they didn’t prepare me for the logic and complexities of more traditional harmony or the notations used in jazz charts.

So when our band director, the brilliant Dr. Bruce Early, handed out the first round of charts in my first semester, my freshman mind was fascinated by the lineup of symbols strung across the blowing section of a tune titled “Pygmy Dance.” What did all that mumbo-jumbo mean? An F# followed by a circle with a line slanting through it–what was that? And a B7b9? I recognized B7, but what did b9 mean? It seemed like that might be important for me to know.

Not that I needed to at the time, because I wasn’t playing lead alto. Good thing, too, because the tune was written in 11/8, and I was in no position to do anything with it but follow the rest of the band. When we got to the solo section, the lead guy, Dan Bryska, stood up and blew the balls off of those changes, as he did with pretty much anything I ever heard him play. What the … how did he do that? Amazingly, Dan didn’t even appear to be paying attention to those arcane scratchings on the chart. I’d have been glued to them, but he evidently had internalized them to the point where they appeared to be part of his genetic makeup.

Knowing the Mile Markers

Had I known then what Dan knew, life would have been easier. I’d have instantly recognized the tune as a blues–a long-form blues, as I recall, but still in essence just a blues–and done what Dan did: just stood up and blown. Dan saw the overall form and signposts of the tune while I was trying to figure out its hieroglyphs; Dan saw the tree while I was scrutinizing the leaves. And that knowledge (not to mention Dan’s fantastic technique and musical experience) allowed him to create where I’d have struggled simply to survive.

I soon came to understand the runes of jazz harmony and the scales attached to them. But translating that knowledge into inventive and expressive music was another story. I viewed the written changes as an accountant might, as hard figures which demanded that I justify every note spent, rather than realizing that they were simply guides that suggested certain melodic directions. I still wasn’t ready to do what Dan and other great soloists do: just stand up and blow.

Which brings me to the point of this post: how does one move from the constraints of jazz harmony to freedom and spontaneity?

The question is more relevant for some tunes than others. There’s a big difference between, say, “Cantaloupe Island” and “Confirmation.” The latter, a bebop tune, is far more complex harmonically, and its dense, fast-paced changes are exactly the kind that can hang a player up. But they don’t have to. Here’s why.

Two Approaches to Improvisation

There are two broad approaches to improvising on tunes: change-running and melodicism. In running the changes, a player seeks to outline or imply every chord in every bar, or at least, most of the chords. With a seasoned player, the results can be stunning. But by itself, change-running ultimately is limiting. There’s more to music than glorifying chord tones, and that’s where the melodic approach steps in. Melodic playing concerns itself with creating a pretty or an interesting melody rather than making all the changes. Not that this more scalar approach ignores or disdains a tune’s harmony; it just deals with that harmony more flexibly. As the name implies, it works with scales and melodic lines rather than chord tones.

Most good jazz soloists know how to utilize both approaches. It’s the blend of the two that can take a seemingly tight, demanding harmonic structure and make real music with it.

So here’s the deal: learn the changes to a tune. Work them into your fingers during practice by running arpeggios, patterns, and licks over them. And as you do so, consider whether there are any particular tones that define distinctive measures in the tune, then earmark those pitches mentally. In other words, look for harmonic signposts that you can refer to. You don’t need many of them, just a few, ones that to your ear are the most significant. These will help you get a feel for the broad shape of the tune. The more you work with the tune, the better you’ll get at filling in the areas between those signposts with cool stuff.

The process I’ve just described, which seeks to cultivate both change-running and a broader melodic perspective, requires a good deal of mental effort at the front end, but your playing will become increasingly intuitive as you stick with it. By degrees, the tune will become yours, and you’ll find yourself stepping out of rigidity into exploration and inventiveness.

This holistic approach seeks to balance the extremes at either end. If you’ve been locked into the changes to the point where you’re a change-running machine, maybe you need to lighten up and think more melodically. If you’ve been lax in dealing with the rigors of harmony, think about adding a few more leaves to your tree.

The discipline comes first, then the freedom. Learn how to play the changes, but also know that you’re not enslaved to them. They’re consultants, not employers; guides, not dictators. The better you and your fingers know your way around a tune’s harmonic structure, the more you’ll be able to make judicious choices as an improviser–but don’t get stuck on the chords. The point of learning to serve the harmony is to make it serve you, and you don’t need to be a master change-runner for that to happen. The goal, after all, is simply to play pretty.

So practice hard and practice smart. Then do like Dan: just stand up and blow.

An Interview with Wade Szilagyi, Director of the International Centre for Waterspout Research

It has been far too long since I’ve posted in this blog. Since my last post on my first-ever Lake Michigan waterspout intercept–and an amazing intercept it was, at that–waterspout season has come and gone, and Hurricane Sandy has wreaked damage of historical proportions on New York City and the New Jersey coastline. But, caught up in editing projects, I haven’t had much energy for writing my own stuff.

I have had a couple things up my sleeve, though, both musical and meteorological. This interview is one of them, and I think you will find it worth the wait. It features Wade Szilagyi, founder and director of the International Centre for Waterspout Research (ICWR) and developer of the Waterspout Nomogram and the Szilagyi Waterspout Index (SWI). Wade is not only at the cutting edge of waterspout research and forecasting, but he drives and defines much of it. I’m pleased and honored to have him as my guest.

Born in 1963 in Toronto, Ontario, Wade moved to Whitby in 1973, where he currently resides. He graduated in 1987 from the University of Toronto with a degree in atmospheric physics and was hired by the Canadian federal government as a meteorologist that same year. He worked as an operational meteorologist until 2001, when he moved into the National Service Operations Division as a national coordinator for program development and standards. Wade has published several articles and research papers on the topic of waterspouts and forecasting. He has also appeared on various media outlets discussing the topic of waterspouts, including interviews on The Weather Channel and Interlochen Public Radio and a writeup in Newsnet5.com.

Wade has two sons who are now in university. One is taking criminology and the other, mechanical engineering. Their father says, wryly, “I couldn’t convince them to go into weather!”

Wade likes to stay active. “I am very big on health and fitness,” he says. “I love to dance, bike, kayak, and power walk. I am a big believer in self-improvement and strive to be strong in mind, body, and soul.”

With that background on Wade the person, I now present to you Wade the waterspout researcher. I think you will find he has some fascinating things to say.

Question: Let’s start with the question that I’m sure is burning in everyone’s curiosity: How do you pronounce your last name? Give us the phonetic spelling.

Wade: Sa-la-gee

Q: Please tell us how you first became interested in meteorology.

W: It all started in grade eight science class. We were doing a unit on weather; however, the passion didn’t hit me until the end of the chapter. One of the chapter questions was to construct a weather observation table. My table consisted of weather parameters such as temperature, relative humidity, cloud cover, wind velocity, etc. I took weather readings and entered them in the table twice a day. I thought I would do this for a week; little did I know that it would last for five years!

Much came from those tables: graphs were produced, trends analyzed, and a climatology for my home town was initiated. This finally culminated with the entry of my project in the science fair in grade 13, for which I won second prize. I still remember teachers bringing their students past the displays. One teacher didn’t believe that I was dedicated enough to take weather readings twice a day every day for five years. He accused me of making the readings up. In my defense, I told him to talk to my teacher, who had known me for several years.

Q: You serve as director for the International Centre for Waterspout Research as well as with the Weather Office of Environment Canada. Please tell me a bit about your training and experience as a meteorologist.

W: The training as a meteorologist begins at university. There are different routes one can take in order to satisfy the requirements to become a federal government meteorologist. One must have a BSC degree in meteorology, atmospheric physics, or a combination of math and physics. I chose the atmospheric physics route. After graduating, I was hired by the federal government and took a mandatory year-long operational forecast training program. This is where one learns how to forecast the weather. After graduating, I was sent to the Toronto Weather Centre, where I remained for ten years. At this office I produced various forecast products such as aviation, public, marine, fire weather, and specialized products. Eleven years ago, I left the Weather Centre and went to the National Services Division, where I am a program manager for weather standards.

Q: One thing I immediately picked up on in talking with you is that you are utterly enamored with waterspouts! Clearly your knowledge of them has been fueled by genuine passion and fascination. When and how did waterspouts first capture your interest, and what has been your path as a foremost waterspout research scientist? Who has been influential along the way?

W: As with many discoveries in life, my interest in waterspouts came about by accident. Originally, I was investigating the phenomenon known as “arctic sea smoke.” This forms over open bodies of water at very cold air temperatures. Arctic sea smoke was a problem at one of our airports on Georgian Bay; it would frequently reduce the visibility near the runway.

I started looking into how to forecast arctic sea smoke. On days when arctic sea smoke occurred, I went down to Lake Ontario to gather data. By accident, I noticed several transient swirls forming in the sea smoke. These are called steam devils, and I quickly became interested in them. On one occasion I saw a huge steam devil. I called it a “winter waterspout.” It was at this point that my fascination with waterspouts began.

At the time, little was done in the way of waterspout forecasting. Weather centers would issue a Special Marine Warning (U.S.) or a Waterspout Advisory (Canada) only after a waterspout was sighted. On one midnight shift, I said to myself, “We are forecasters. We should be able to predict waterspouts.”

I began gathering meteorological data during waterspout events in order to develop a forecast technique. A couple of years later, the first version of the technique, the Szilagyi Waterspout Nomogram, was developed and used at the Weather Center in Toronto.

Over the years, as more data was gathered, the Nomogram was improved. Recently, I developed the Szilagyi Waterspout Index (SWI), which is based on the Nomogram. From the SWI, and with the help of my colleague, my dream of developing the world’s first operational waterspout forecast model was achieved during the summer of 2012. Waterspouts can now be predicted with confidence up to two days in advance!

The Nomogram and SWI are now used at weather centers around the Great Lakes and on both coasts of North America, and they are now being investigated in other parts of the world, especially Europe. During this period, I have written several articles and research papers and have given media interviews. I also formed the International Centre for Waterspout Research (ICWR) in 2008, which is a non-governmental organization comprised of research scientists, meteorologists, storm chasers, etc. from around the world who are interested in the field of waterspouts.

Regarding who has been influential along my waterspout research path, I would have to say Dr. Joseph Golden. Dr. Golden is considered the “father of waterspouts.” He spent most of his career studying waterspouts and how they form. I was honored to have met Dr. Golden at the Great Lakes Operational Meteorology Workshop in Traverse City, Michigan, back in the 1990s.

Frank Kieltyka, a meteorologist from the Cleveland Weather Office who conducted waterspout studies over Lake Erie, was also influential in the early days. Internationally, Dr. Alexander Keul, from the Vienna University of Technology, and Michalis Sioutas, from Meteorological Application Centre in Greece, inspired me to work on joint international research projects and to establish the International Centre for Waterspout Research.

Q: I first came across your name as the author of a brief 2009 paper titled A Waterspout Forecasting Technique. In it, you described four types of waterspouts—thunderstorm-related, upper low, land breeze, and winter—and offered three significant parameters for forecasting them. Presumably, thunderstorm-related waterspouts evolve through processes familiar to storm chasers. But the remaining three are less familiar. Would you briefly describe the conditions that produce them and what distinguishes them from each other? Do any of them have a land-based equivalent?

W: As a correction to the article, “thunderstorm-related” should be “severe weather.” Severe-weather-type waterspouts, like tornadoes over land, are associated with mesocyclones.

The other three types of waterspouts (upper low, land breeze, and winter) are categorized as fair-weather-type waterspouts. These form in a different manner than the severe-weather-type waterspouts. There are no mesocyclones associated with fair-weather-type waterspouts. In all three cases, circulation with fair-weather-type waterspouts starts at the surface of the water. As air rapidly moves upwards under the cloud, the circulation gets stretched upwards and forms a waterspout. What distinguishes the three fair-weather types is the weather pattern in which they form. Upper low waterspouts form under unstable conditions associated with what meteorologists call upper lows—large areas of cool, rotating air. Upper low waterspouts form any time of the day or night.

Land breeze waterspouts form along convergent lines called land breezes. Land breezes form overnight under light wind conditions as warm air rises over the water and is replaced by cooler air from the surrounding land. This cooler air converges along a line over the water, and it is along this line of converging air that rotation is initiated and waterspouts form. Land breezes last until early afternoon, at which time the waterspouts dissipate.

Winter waterspouts form when it is very cold and windy. This results in extremely unstable conditions over the water. However, winter waterspouts are rarely observed because lake effect snow obscures their presence.

The land-based equivalent of the three fair-weather-type waterspouts is a phenomenon known as the landspout. Landspouts form in a similar way as fair-weather-type waterspouts.

Q: You encapsulated the three chief parameters for forecasting waterspouts in the Szilagyi Waterspout Nomogram, which was the precursor to the Szilagyi Waterspout Index (SWI) and the ensuing colorized forecast maps for Great Lakes waterspouts. Those appear to be the first practical tools ever devised for forecasting spouts. Starting with the Nomogram, would you tell us how you developed them and exactly what they are? What improvements do you anticipate for the forecast maps?

W: Back in 1994, I started investigating what meteorological parameters correlated well during waterspout events. I wanted these parameters to be easy to calculate for forecasters. Three parameters satisfied these conditions of good correlation and easy use.* I then plotted these points and noticed that they formed a concentrated cluster on the graph. I enclosed the cluster with two lines. These lines are called the waterspout threshold lines. If a calculated point falls within them, waterspouts are likely. Outside the lines, waterspouts are not likely. This is what constitutes the Nomogram.

The Szilagyi Waterspout Index (SWI) is derived directly from the Nomogram. The purpose is to produce an index that can be used in computer algorithms to produce forecast maps of waterspout potential. The SWI ranges from -10 to +10. Waterspouts are likely for SWI ≥ 0. The new Experimental Waterspout Forecast System (EWFS) produces forecast values of SWI.

Improvements to the forecast maps produced by the EWFS are planned. These improvements include a higher model resolution, simplification of the display, and most importantly, the incorporation of surface convergence. Surface convergence is essential for waterspout formation.

Q: I understand that waterspout formation has five stages. Could you describe them? In a phone conversation, you mentioned to me that the presence of even a small funnel cloud means that a waterspout is already in progress, with circulation between the water surface and cloud base fully established. Most storm chasers are careful to distinguish between a funnel cloud and a tornado; they define a tornado by either the condensation funnel making full contact with the ground or else with visible rotation at ground level, typically verified by whirling dust or debris. How do you view this approach based on your experience with waterspouts?

W: Dr. Joseph Golden was the first to identify the five stages of a waterspout. These are:

1. Dark spot. A prominent circular, light-colored disk appears on the surface of the water, surrounded by a larger dark area of indeterminate shape and with diffused edges.

2. Spiral pattern. A pattern of light and dark-colored surface bands spiraling out from the dark spot which develops on the water surface.

3.Spray ring. A dense swirling ring of water spray appears around the dark spot with what appears to be an eye similar to that seen in hurricanes.

4. Mature vortex. The waterspout, now visible from water surface to the overhead cloud, achieves maximum organization and intensity. Its funnel often appears hollow, with a surrounding shell of turbulent condensate. The spray vortex can rise to a height of several hundred feet or more and often creates a visible wake and an associated wave train as it moves.

5. Decay. The funnel and spray vortex begin to dissipate as the inflow of warm air into the vortex weakens.

Regarding reporting either a waterspout or funnel cloud, the same procedure should be followed as with observations over the land. Evidence of a spray ring, or a fully condensed funnel reaching the surface of the water, should be visible before reporting it as a waterspout. If there is no spray ring visible because it is too far away to be viewed, and if the condensation funnel appears incomplete, then it should be called a funnel cloud.

Q: This year has been a record-breaker for waterspouts, bolstered by such landmark events as the September 21-24 Great Lakes outbreak. What has the ICWR gained, and what do you expect it to get, from this year? In your organization’s research overall, have you made any discoveries that have surprised you?

W: This year’s record-breaking waterspout numbers have resulted in tremendous media attention for the ICWR (e.g. The Weather Channel). This media attention has resulted in more individuals submitting waterspout reports on our website, which we display.These reports are also used to update and improve the nomogram.

A discovery that has surprised us at the ICWR is that the nomogram can be applied in other areas of the world, in particular over European waters. These observations were confirmed in a recent research paper.

Q: Speaking of the ICWR, how long has it been in existence? What led to its formation, and what is the story of its growth? What are some of its significant achievement? What are some things you’d like to see it accomplish within, say, the next five years, and who besides yourself are the players?

W: Founded in 2008 by me and two European colleagues, the ICWR is an independent non-governmental organization comprised of individuals from around the world who are interested in the field of waterspouts from a research, operational, and safety perspective. Originally conceived as a forum for researchers and meteorologists, the ICWR has now expanded interest and contribution from storm chasers, the media, marine and aviation communities, and from private individuals. The goals of the ICWR are as follows:

    • Foster the advancement of waterspout research and forecasting.
    • Provide an international forum for the exchange of information among researchers and meteorologists.
    • Facilitate the reporting of waterspouts from around the world from storm chasers and other interested individuals.
    • Promote, educate, and communicate to academic institutions, the media, marine and aviation communities, and private individuals.

Some of the achievements of the ICWR have been to jointly produce waterspout research papers. Another achievement has been the increase in public awareness of waterspouts around the world. Features on the ICWR web site called the “Live Waterspout Watch”, as well as the ICWR Facebook page have helped facilitate this public awareness.

Some projects that are currently being undertaken, and which I hope will be completed in the next five years, are the Global Waterspout Forecast System (GWFS), Global Waterspout Database (GWD), and Global Waterspout Watch Network (GWWN). The GWFS will produce waterspout potential maps for the entire globe. The GWD is a database containing waterspout events from around the world. The GWWN is a global network of waterspout spotters.

The ICWR is comprised of a director (me), as well as an executive committee. The executive committee has two representatives: Dr. Alexander Keul, from Salzburg University; and Michalis Siatous, meteorologist with the Greek Weather Service. The ICWR is also represented by a growing number of storm chasers, meteorologists, and research scientists.

Q: Are there any ways that storm chasers, weather observers, and other interested parties can participate in or otherwise assist the work of ICWR?

W: Yes. Storm chasers and weather observers can contact the ICWR and become part of the GWWN. Researchers and meteorologists can collaborate with the ICWR to produce joint research papers or develop forecast models.

Q: How many waterspout incidents have you personally witnessed? Are there any that stand out as particularly memorable for you?

W:I have seen waterspouts on five separate occasions. The most memorable one was the first time I saw them. I rented a cottage for a few days on the north shore of Lake Erie. The weather was warm and the hope of seeing any waterspouts diminished with each passing day. On the last day of the vacation, I stopped thinking about waterspouts. That morning the weather was cool. I went out onto the beach with my glass of orange juice and was looking around the sand. I looked up over the water, and to my amazement I saw a family of three waterspouts in a row! My jaw and the glass dropped. I ran into the cottage yelling, “Waterspouts!” My wife told me that I was like a kid in a candy store. I grabbed my video camera, and for the next fifty minutes I filmed several waterspouts forming and dissipating.

Q: When you’re not researching waterspouts, what do you like to do? Got any hobbies that keep you occupied when the spouts aren’t spinning?

W: Hey, waterspout research is my hobby! My other hobbies are archeology and treasure hunting, which I have been doing for the last twenty-six years. I have found several artifacts that have added to the knowledge of the history of my town. These artifacts go on display to the public at various events. I am also planning on creating a virtual museum. I should point out that one of my greatest dreams is treasure hunting on the beach while looking up and seeing a waterspout!
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* The three parameters are as follows: (1) The difference between water temperature and 850 mb temperature; (2) the depth of convective clouds; and (3) the 850 mb wind speed, which must be less than 40 knots. For further information, Szilagyi refers readers to his article on waterspout forecasting.