Why are Thelonious Monk's harmonies and rhythms so unique, or even 'eccentric'?

Sure, here is the translation:

Okay, when we talk about Thelonious Monk, the word "quirky" feels tailor-made for him! But this very "quirkiness" is why he became a jazz master. His music is like a strangely designed building; at first glance, it might seem crooked, but a closer look reveals that every "crooked" bit is filled with clever ideas and beauty.

Let's break down how he was "quirky" in plain language, focusing on harmony and rhythm.

Harmony: Why does it sound "off"?

Most music we hear strives for harmony that is "pleasing" and "melodious," like sweet desserts that taste smooth. Monk's harmony, however, is like adding a touch of mustard or Sichuan pepper to the dessert – the first taste makes you go "Huh?" but leaves a remarkably potent aftertaste.

1. He absolutely loved "dissonance"

Simply put: He boldly placed notes together that sound very "clashing" and "sharp."
Think of it like: Find any white key on a piano, then press the black key or white key right next to it. Doesn't playing these two notes together sound like they are "fighting"? This is technically called a "minor second," and it's extremely dissonant. Most musicians handle it carefully or avoid it. But Monk? He deliberately turned this "fighting" sound into the main character, playing it openly and proudly, making it his signature sound. This dissonance creates a constant sense of tension, filling his music with drama and always keeping you guessing.

2. Distinctive Use of the "Whole-Tone Scale"

Simply put: This is a scale that sounds very "floaty," lacking the clear sense of resolution we're used to in common scales like "Do Re Mi Fa So La Ti."
Think of it like: Familiar scales feel like climbing stairs: you know where you start (home) and where you end. The whole-tone scale feels like floating in a dream – there's no sense of direction, no feeling of "home." This scale creates an atmosphere that's hypnotic, suspended, and even a bit cartoony, which is why his music sounds so surreal.

3. Minimal Chords and Profound "Negative Space"

Simply put: He didn't pack the music full of complex, ornate chords. Instead, he often used just a few essential notes, leaving large spaces of silence.
Think of it like: Like a master of traditional Chinese ink painting who understands "leaving blank space," Monk is the master of negative space in music. Those sudden silences are as important as the notes themselves. This imbues every single note played with exceptional weight, like a stone dropped into silence, its ripples lingering for a long time.

Rhythm: Why does it sound "stammering"?

If the rhythm of many jazz musicians flows like water, Monk's rhythm is more like an interesting eccentric strolling along, stopping to think now and then, stamping a foot, or suddenly jumping.

1. Unexpected Pauses and Accents

Simply put: He never played by the book. When you expect him to play on the beat (like 1, 2, 3, 4), he won't. Instead, he might play between the beats, or suddenly pause, or hammer down a note in the most unexpected place.
Think of it like: It’s like someone speaking, but not in a normal rhythm: more like "I…… think, this matter— is really ... interesting!". This broken, surprise-filled rhythm gives his music humor and unpredictability. Listening to his music, your foot never knows when to tap along.

2. Playing Piano Like a Percussion Instrument

Simply put: His touch on the keyboard was very hard, angular, and vigorous, unlike other pianists who pursued fluidity and softness.
Think of it like: Most pianists play like stroking silk; Monk played more like striking drums with his fingers. Every note feels like a percussive hit, full of distinct texture. His famous technique of "punching" the keys (striking them with straight fingers) intensified this effect. This playing style gave his rhythm exceptional power and clarity.

3. Stubborn Repetition and Variation

Monk loved to grab hold of a short, quirky musical phrase and repeat it over and over. But this repetition wasn't monotonous; he always made small shifts in the rhythm or changed a single note in the harmony with each repetition. It's like a magician performing the same trick in countless different ways, keeping you familiar yet constantly making new discoveries.

Summary: A Musical Architect "in a Genre of His Own"

So, Thelonious Monk's uniqueness lay in completely shattering people's habitual ideas about what sounds "good."

His harmony is full of deliberate "mistakes," his rhythm full of intentional "awkwardness." But this wasn't due to a lack of technique; quite the opposite, it was the blueprint for building his own musical world. He wasn't playing by the rules; he was creating the rules.

The next time you listen to his music, try not to judge it as "right" or "wrong." Instead, feel your way into that unique, slightly askew yet incredibly surprising world he created. You'll discover just how fascinating this "quirky" genius truly was.