Keyboard Magazine - March 2008 - (Page 34) Dr. Oscar Peterson, 1925-2007 Why did this man smile so much? The answer is in his music. by Ernie Rideout The story of the late Dr. Oscar Peterson is one of friendship, love, dedication, and amazing music. Norman Granz, the egalitarian and indefatigable jazz producer and promoter, first brought Peterson to New York City in 1949 as a guest performer at a Jazz At The Philharmonic program at Carnegie Hall, an event that opened up a place for Oscar in jazz history. Oscar subsequently appeared on countless JATP tours around the world, and recorded regularly for Norman’s record labels: Verve, Clef, Norgran, and Pablo. As Oscar told Keyboard some years ago, he was working with his trio at the Alberta Lounge in Montreal, Canada, a fairly upscale gig for a teenager — though he was no ordinary teenager. A local radio station was broadcasting part of a set, which was heard by Norman in a cab headed to the Montreal airport following a JATP performance. He told the cab driver to turn around and head for the Alberta. The rest is history, and Norman became one of Oscar’s closest friends and a highly influential figure in his life. When Granz passed away in November 2001, Oscar was so profoundly affected that he seriously considered giving up playing the piano — it was a bigger blow than the stroke he suffered in 1993 that hindered his left hand facility. Fortunately, fans and friends from around the world packed the Blue Note in New York City for his engagement there in late 2002, giving Oscar one of the best receptions he’d ever had, and inspiring him to continue. And indeed, Oscar kept touring almost right up until he passed away last year on December 23. On the JATP tours in the early ’50s, Oscar shared the stage with greats such as Ella Fitzgerald, Gene Krupa, Ben Webster, Roy Eldridge, Benny Carter, and others, many of whom he recorded classic albums with throughout his career. His own vehicle at the time was the Oscar Peterson Trio, in one of its legendary configurations that included Ray Brown on bass, Herb Ellis on guitar — both lifelong close friends. The interplay and ensemble work of this group was astonishing, and when you listen to them, you’ll hear the love and friendship in the music, just as clearly as their virtuosic command. When Ray Brown passed away in 2002, it left Oscar with deep void, just as Granz’ passing did the year before. Oscar’s recordings from this time hold their appeal no less today than when they were originally released. Even a casual listen will When I first heard Oscar, I was just amazed by how happy the piano sounded. Invincible swing, incredible touch, his sound always made my soul dance. His music was the source of happiness. Oscar will keep living in my heart, and his music will keep ringing in my soul. Oscar, thank you, thank you, thank you so much for being such an amazing pianist and an amazing person. Hiromi 34 reveal what kept him at the apex of jazz for his entire career: melody. Listeners everywhere respond to melody, and Oscar excelled at this, because he, too, loved melody. “I always try to play the melody with real feeling,” he told Len Lyons in an early Keyboard interview, “as if I were playing a horn, pedaling and controlling the touch so it doesn’t sound staccato.” Oscar’s playing was melodic even when he wasn’t interpreting a written melody. He excelled at creating beautiful lines as he improvised; even at breakneck tempos, Oscar always spun a finished melody, he never just wove through the chord changes. “I’m an admirer of the beautiful long line that starts out and then reaches a point of definition,” he told Lyons. “If you reach a point of definition, it validates all other aspects of the line. Let me draw an analogy. I don’t think you should speak until you have your sentence together in your mind. It’s easier to listen to someone who knows what he wants to say than a person who stops, starts, picks up another idea, continues, and winds up with a series of choppedup phrases. I got that from listening to Teddy Wilson; the beautiful long line, the interconnecting runs that tie together the harmonic movements in a ballad, the impeccable good taste of the right touch, the idea of how to make a piano speak. I got that from Hank Jones, too.” Another aspect of Oscar’s playing that was as evident in his earliest recordings as on his most recent was his sense of swing. Among jazz pianists, no one could touch him when it came to swing. “When my trio is at its deepest point,” he told Lyons, “when we get that far keyboard 03-2008
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