Oscar Worthy

Oscar Peterson: Music in the Key of Oscar (2004) is a terrific documentary about the legendary jazz pianist. Shot in 1992 during a reunion tour with members of the original Oscar Peterson Trio, Herb Ellis and Ray Brown, the best thing is the generous amount of time we get to spend watching and listening to these greats play. Though all are long in the tooth at this time, they are still playing at a very high level, as cohesive a group as they were in the 1950s.

Interspersed between the song sets are brief snippets of commentary from producer Norman Granz, Ella Fitzgerald, Dizzy Gillespie, Quincy Jones, and, of course, Oscar himself. The film looks at his “boy genius” rise to prominence in Montreal, Canada, where he was discovered by Granz in what sounds like an apocryphal story but is apparently true. Granz was in a taxi heading to the airport to fly back to the States when he heard Peterson, then 24 years old, playing on the radio. When he asked the driver who the recording was by, the driver told him it was a live broadcast from a local club. Granz had him turn the taxi around and take him immediately to the club. Shortly thereafter, Peterson was introduced as a surprise performer at a Jazz at the Philharmonic concert at Carnegie Hall.

The film briefly covers the highlights of Peterson’s career, his influences, his experiences with racism while out on tour, and the recognition he finally receives at the time the film was made. It even looks at criticism of Peterson, particularly the charge that he was not an innovator or trendsetter on the piano. The point is tacitly acknowledged, but Peterson never saw this as his role, and the sheer artistry on display makes the point moot. Oscar Peterson is simply one of the greatest to ever tickle the jazz ivories.

Happy Birthday, Roy Eldridge!

Roy Eldridge with the Oscar Peterson Trio - "Willow Weep for Me" (1961).

Oscar Peterson Trio - "A Gal in Calico" (1958)

With Herb Ellis on guitar and Ray Brown on bass.

Oscar and Frank

Lately, I’ve been listening to Oscar Peterson’s album A Jazz Portrait of Frank Sinatra, recorded in Paris in May 1959. This was one of the first albums Peterson recorded with his new trio partner, drummer Ed Thigpen, who replaced guitarist Herb Ellis; bassist Ray Brown remained. As a fellow Frank Sinatra fan - particularly of his classic Capitol Records LPs of this period (Sinatra had just released Come Dance with Me! in January 1959) - I understand Peterson’s stated reasons for the album:

For years I have been an ardent admirer of Frank Sinatra. I've been thrilled by his singing and I've respected the taste that goes with his singing. As a musician I've further admired his choice of tunes and as a fan I've recognized that certain tunes are forever, at least in my mind, inextricably linked with Sinatra, both by usage and interpretation and by that special magic that is his alone. This album is not only a tribute to Frank Sinatra, but also my emotional interpretation of the feelings I get when I hear him. I have tried, therefore, to paint as well as I can a portrait, told in my personal jazz terms, of Frank Sinatra.

     Peterson’s playing on this album has been unduly criticized for sticking so close to the melodies, but clearly this was his intention. He was about to embark on an ambitious re-recording of his songbook albums (Ellington, Gershwin, Rodgers, Kern, Porter, Berlin, Arlen) with the new trio configuration, and the same critique could be leveled at these as well. (In fact, you could make this same accusation of Sinatra's singing.)
     But I think this is a willful misreading of the project’s intentions as well as of Peterson as a performer. Praise for Peterson’s technical prowess has often been paired with complaints about his lack of adventurousness. Perhaps it is true that he was more of a crystallizer than an innovator in his approach. But the breathtaking technique and melodic brilliance on display on this and many other albums speak for themselves.
     Jazz Portrait opens with a loping version of “You Make Me Feel So Young” and a quick-paced “Come Dance With Me.” The tempos for the most part are not Sinatra’s but Peterson’s, although one can almost hear Frank singing along on “Witchcraft” and “I Get a Kick Out of You.” My personal favorites on the album are “All of Me” and an appropriately bluesy “Birth of the Blues.” I highly recommend this album to Sinatra fans and Peterson fans alike.

Jazz Giants ‘58

This is not your run-of-the-mill jam. Blowing sessions like this were fairly common in the 1950s – a group of prominent jazz players were chosen, often ones who had never played together before, thrown into a studio for a day or two, and the tapes rolled. Sometimes you got good but unimaginative music, and other times you got magic. This album falls into the latter category.
     Jazz Giants ’58 was put together by Norman Granz at Verve, and he got a stellar cast: Stan Getz, Gerry Mulligan, Harry “Sweets” Edison, the Oscar Peterson Trio, and Louis Bellson. It’s a little bit of old school – Edison (who played with Basie) and Bellson (who played with Ellington) – and a little of the new – Getz and Mulligan. Recorded in August 1957, it comes near a cusp in jazz history, with free jazz forms appearing on the horizon. But unlike the conventional evolutionary timelines in jazz – swing giving way to bop giving way to free jazz – this album shows that the breaks are not so clean and that swing and bop greats can make some wonderful jazz together.
     Nominally a Stan Getz led album, in Jazz Giants ’58 everyone gets a star turn. The music clearly benefits from the presence of Mulligan, who did the arrangements and provides a little structure to the proceedings. The first tune, “Chocolate Sundae,” is a perfect example. It begins with a Ray Brown bass solo, followed by Mulligan on baritone, and a swinging Herb Ellis guitar solo. Then a sweet Oscar Peterson piano riff introduces Getz’s solo, who doesn’t appear until five and a half minutes into the song. The rhythm section really kicks in behind Getz and the song starts swinging hard. But then “Sweets” comes in for an extended solo and steals the show. One can hear the Basie influence in his playing, in the ability to sound just the right note and give it so much meaning and feel. It was Lester Young that gave Edison his nickname for just this quality.

“As far as playing jazz, no other art form, other than conversation, can give the satisfaction of spontaneous interaction.” 

     Other selections on the album include “When Your Lover Has Gone,” “Candy” (with a classic Mulligan solo on baritone full of swing and longing), a medley of ballads (“Lush Life,” “Lullaby of the Leaves,” “Makin’ Whoopee,” and “It Never Entered My Mind”), and Dizzy Gillespie’s “Woody ‘n’ You” (taken at a very brisk clip). Stan Getz once said, “As far as playing jazz, no other art form, other than conversation, can give the satisfaction of spontaneous interaction.” The conversation on this session was clearly a warm one among equals. Far from a jam, this is jazz of the highest order.