Anybody who’s studied or played elements of jazz or classical on the piano as I have likely have enough Oscar Peterson recordings on their CD rack to send any other piano CD’s you own off to be auctioned on eBay or into a storage box in the garage. When Peterson passed away almost symbolically the day before Christmas Eve of 2007 at the age of 82–he reminded people that not only was he probably the best-known worldwide jazz ambassador of the last forty years (filling Louis Armstrong’s shoes who was THE jazz ambassador to the world before that)–but also left behind a massive discography that would take you several lifetimes to purchase in its entirety. Even though some carped at his showy Art Tatum-inspired technique–I’m going to easily prove here that Peterson was not merely a show-off pianist as those same people tried to insinuate at one time. The man had his own multi-dimensional and distinctive style that actually may have exceeded any pianist–even Tatum himself. He also had his own compositional and harmonic sound that’s been neglected in study and should be studied carefully by anybody wanting to take their learning of jazz or classical piano to a higher level.
It probably had been several years since I’d played an Oscar Peterson CD when finding out about his death on Christmas Eve. And, yes, that means I likely took the man and his artistry for granted–thinking he’d be around a lot longer. While getting ready at home for family to come over for Christmas festivities–I turned on a well-known local jazz station in the early afternoon that was playing a marathon of Peterson’s recordings in tribute and fell right back into being fascinated with his recordings and own compositions all over again. It was fortunate I was able to grow up with a father who loved Peterson’s work–enabling me to absorb his playing and recordings practically from the womb. Mind you, I basically started listening to Peterson’s work when he was at Pablo Records (1970’s to mid-80’s) that probably chronicles his peak period of creativity and incredible recording output. He already had a huge collection of recordings at Verve long before that–starting already in the early 50’s when Norman Granz signed him there after discovering Peterson up in his native Montreal. In my mind, however, those Verve recordings aren’t the necessary place to start.
One of the disadvantages of the old Verve recordings was that recording time was a bigger issue–and a lot of the (still brilliant) album tracks recorded by Peterson’s original trio configuration were only maybe three or four minutes each as any pop recording was in those days. When he moved exclusively to Pablo in the early 70’s–it was a showcase jazz label (actually an off-shoot of Verve via Granz) that allowed any jazz artist to play anywhere from ten to fifteen minutes on a piece. If you’ve ever heard an elaborate Peterson arrangement or one of his own compositions, it was almost essential to allow him time to expand his creativity–so recording at Pablo (and later Telarc) was a gift for everybody. Pablo and Telarc also featured Peterson in numerous live album recording dates from the 70’s through the 2000’s where he fed off the energy of the crowds whose jaws would frequently hit the floor after hearing an awe-inspiring flying-finger improvisation from the man on the keyboard.
But enough about those flying fingers he possessed that might have incredibly outdone Art Tatum’s carpal death-defying technique at times. So much has been written at making Peterson “great” just based on his inspired and usually non-imitative technical prowess. As the late and legendary piano impressionist Bill Evans taught everybody–playing in a reflective, deep-seeded and tone-oriented way is a lot harder to master and emulate than playing blazing scales with fleeting digits. While Evans is usually regarded as one of the #1 jazz piano greats ever, what a lot of people forget is that Peterson was capable of doing the same things Evans did very effectively. When Peterson decided to make one of his creations more of a microcosm rather than larger than life–he could mesmerize you with his harmonic inventiveness and ability to convey a profound sense of sonorous sound. A lot more of his personal compositions are in this vein than people may remember.
A lot of those compositions were recorded on various albums throughout the years in differing arrangements. Just what are the best recordings featuring Peterson’s own work as well as his arrangements of the usual jazz and pop standards? Well, one essential album featuring all his compositions (actually a suite) inexplicably isn’t even available in a domestic CD release…
What’s holding up the domestic CD release of Peterson’s “Canadiana Suite”, ay?
I fortunately grew up hearing the LP release of Peterson’s most famous work utilizing his own writing: 1964’s “The Canadiana Suite”–featuring seven variety pieces for a jazz trio reflecting the natural beauty of Canada’s eastern provinces where Oscar lived, worked and traveled. What’s odd is that in the CD era, it only received a limited Japanese import CD release at some point back in the early 90’s. It then was promptly pulled from distribution–or at least to the point of being ungettable here in America. Japan always seems to have better luck on getting things we can’t get anyway…even American albums. Based on my research, though, it currently isn’t available on CD in Canada either–or we’d definitely be able to get it here. So just what is it that’s holding up a worldwide CD release of this masterful and famous jazz work that Peterson received a Grammy nom for in 1965?
The answer to that may be in the record label it was originally released on. Limelight Records was a subsidiary of Mercury Records–and single-handedly started by music producer/legend Quincy Jones as a place to exclusively feature mainstream and obscure jazz artists. That’s the label “Canadiana Suite” was released on, which apparently means Jones owns the rights to its release. It has to be noted, however, that Limelight was a label that didn’t last long and has a lot of prior jazz releases that are long out of print now. This has to be the only answer as to why it hasn’t been released here in America under a hopeful two-CD special edition…complete with a much-needed remaster and alternate takes. There could be other legal issues there we don’t know about–but once it ever gets released domestically (hopefully forwarded now in the event of Peterson’s death)–it’ll be one of the highest-profile jazz releases of this decade.
All you have to do is hear the 40-minute suite in its entirety to see why. It features every facet of Peterson’s technical and expressive abilities. To prove my point above about how reflective he could be–the piece “Wheatland” in the middle part of the suite will convince you. Yes, he played this slightly Bossa-sounding instrumental even more expressively and moodily on later recordings (you can hear it on about half-a-dozen different live albums over the years), but the sonorous harmony and touch he gives it even on the original recording is magical. It reportedly was his favorite out of all his own original works and it’s interesting to hear him get more and more introspective on the piece (plus stretching its harmonic foundations and running time) on each progressing album it happened to appear.
Of course, in complete contrast–hearing him play the blistering-speed “Place St. Henri” from the suite will send you right back to thinking Peterson must have worked on Hanon scales 24/7 to develop speed that almost broke the sound barrier.
More album recommendations out of probably 200 to choose from…
In my mind, going back later to hear Peterson in his 50’s and early 60’s Verve years is the best way to approach his recording cycle. Without any hesitation, I always recommend any of his Pablo releases to start (or even his MPS recordings from a few years earlier) where he utilized his creativity to the fullest. He did a number of collaboration albums at Pablo with other jazz greats (Ella Fitzgerald, Count Basie just to mention two)–but the true best are with his 70’s trio consisting of the late and masterful Niels-Henning Orsted Pederson on the bass and also late Joe Pass on the guitar. Both of those musicians were the equal of Peterson on their respective instruments that only makes their recordings all the more awe-inspiring and technically out of this world. That even surprised Peterson himself who–with his original classic trio of Ray Brown on bass and Herb Ellis on guitar in the 50’s–never thought the heightened sense of communication he had with them would be equaled again. No matter which trio or other of his various configurations he had you think is the best, Peterson turned up his piano skills several notches during the 1970’s that lasted up to the time of his stroke in 1993.
A lot of people think those brief late 60’s recordings he did at the MPS label are some of his best in a solo setting. The multi-CD release of “Exclusively for My Friends” is one everybody should have, because these were private solo recordings made…yes, just for his close jazz friends…until being released as a series later. Hearing Peterson play solo was rare enough. Nevertheless, he could easily duplicate the sound of a complete orchestra when playing, so having others to play with was merely to keep him mentally challenged and provide a variety in sound and styles for concerts.
Hearing any of Peterson’s live albums at Pablo is also essential listening. One of my favorites (released originally in 1981) is his “Nigerian Marketplace” album recorded live at Montreaux–with the title being another showcase piece under his own pen. The more modern rhythms in the improv section of that piece are perhaps a little 70’s and 80’s-sounding, but it’s one of Peterson’s most masterful, original (and elaborate) compositions. The opening theme done on bass (by Niels-Henning Orsted Pederson) is haunting and unforgettable in its interplay with Peterson’s piano. It perfectly reflects the harmonic sound of Nigeria and a nearby marketplace in a ethereal way that solidified Peterson’s ability to give a profound musical essence to just about any subject he was conveying.
Based on that unique ability to bring a higher musical sense to an event–Peterson was frequently commissioned to write other suites or individual songs for big-deal happenings. He wrote a piece for the 1988 Winter Olympics in Calgary, though perhaps most memorably (or maybe forgotten) wrote a suite celebrating the marriage of, yes, Princess Diana and Prince Charles in 1981. It’s called the “Royal Wedding Suite”–and it’s still in print. Listen to his “Lady Di Waltz” as a perhaps little-known and offbeat part of Peterson’s compositional legacy. When on Telarc during the 90’s, he wrote another suite celebrating Canada. This one was called “Trail of Dreams: A Canadian Suite” in 2000 that probably gets confused sometimes with his first 1964 “Canadiana Suite.” It’s still worth checking out just as an interesting companion to the first one with some pieces that have a harmonic connective bridge.
Speaking of Telarc, when Peterson signed on that label in 1990–little did his fans realize that he’d reunite his old 50’s trio of Herb Ellis and Ray Brown for a series of live recordings that seemed to be neverending. His first Telarc album “Live at the Blue Note” was a smash success, gave Oscar more Grammys for his mantle and actually got me more interested in that original trio lineup when I first heard this album. Over the next couple of years–Telarc put out three other sequel CD’s taken from those 1990 Blue Note dates that are widely considered to be some of the most historic concerts in jazz history at this point.
All of Peterson’s recordings at Telarc after his ’93 stroke present the master’s left hand slightly weakened–but nonetheless still well beyond the advanced stage for most others. His apparent last new album on Telarc (2004’s live “A Night in Vienna”) is still worth listening to in seeing how full-circle Peterson had gone in developing his harmonic sound and becoming much more introspective as he developed health issues.
Hymn to Freedom…
Yes, that’s the name of another Peterson original (basically an understated gospel piece) that may be his greatest of all. He understood the importance and emotion behind freedom in every sense of the word as he traveled the world. This piece gets widely played, too, (even Greg House on “House” playing it on the piano in one episode)–but also most notably played in occasional concerts by Diana Krall. Krall is probably Peterson’s successor now, because the two native-Canadians were close friends with a possible torch-pass from him to her. Diana doesn’t necessarily have his blazing technique–yet still has his harmonic essence and deep sense of rhythm and blues that was an essential element in his musical tapestry. They both have singing backgrounds, too. Peterson used to sing when younger–but gave it up when he was accused of sounding too much like Nat King Cole (one of his idols).
Playing “Hymn to Freedom” will frequently leave people in awe when conveyed just right. It’s probably the best of his own work that represents Oscar Peterson in his profound sense of humanity, uniting the world, education and musicality. Hearing anybody else play it now, though, reminds us that there probably won’t be any other jazz artist who was as musically complete as Peterson was. Sure, that Eldar kid from Kyrgyzstan (apparently not Borat’s cousin) has his impossible keyboard technique–and everybody else tries to mimic at least some of the essence behind Oscar’s playing. Overall, though, a jazz musician who had such a far reach in international relations through music will take a long time to develop again in our lifetimes.
May all of Oscar’s massive recording legacy live on…as well as hopefully getting new CD and DVD releases of material (especially of his Canadian TV specials) we haven’t seen or heard before as we usually get to have after musical legends leave us…
