Review: Keith Jarrett - The Out Of Towners

By this point, together for almost twenty years, the trio of Keith Jarrett, Gary Peacock and Jack DeJohnette are easily the longest association and most constant group in jazz. All three masters of their individual craft, since first getting together their collective skill and interaction has resulted in an empathy and that almost no-one else can touch.

Preferring to avoid the more avant regions with which the members have individually sometimes gone to, either solo or with other groups, this Standards Trio have chosen instead to focus for the most part on original and sometimes surprising takes on classic jazz tunes. So, recorded at the Munich State Opera, ‘The Out Of Towners’ like all of the trios releases, comes with great anticipation. But, as some naysayers may enquire, what differentiates this from the many others in the trios’ catalogue?

To start, the sound recording here is absolutely pristine. I strongly doubt you’ll ever find a better live recording of a piano trio than you will here - the clarity of the sound is superb. But also just as importantly the song choices are more than just the usual standards.

Opening with a brief solo introduction, Jarrett makes ‘I Can’t Believe That You’re In Love With Me’ a lovely and complex rendition. And the way the rhythm duo enters behind him is so smooth it should be used as textbook for any aspiring group out there. Later ‘You’ve Changed’ is a gorgeous ballad and is a perfect example of how this group takes a song you think you know and is able to just open it up – presenting it in a new way that somehow enhances the melody of the piece.

Gerry Mulligans ‘Five Brothers’ swings as it was meant to do and Cole Porters ‘I Love You’ is near-perfection, only just a tad marred by a frankly odd and unengaging cymbals-only solo. The best trio piece here though is the Jarrett original title track; a lengthy and funky blues-gospel, it benefits greatly from some inspired soloing by Peacock. For those that - understandably - bemoan Jarretts lack of composition more recently, here is a shining example of his compositional talents, but one that is undeniably improved by the intuition of the band.

As an encore we are given a tranquil yet moving ‘It’s All In the Game’, in which Jarrett performs solo – his first in this context for two years, and live for six years, since 1995s ‘La Scala’. Perfectly as in the moment as his famous solo recordings, he shows great restraint and stays true to the melodically-rich piece. Achingly beautiful, it is unreservedly a highlight of Jarretts career.

A good starter for anyone unfamiliar to the trio, it’s also be a great additional volume for fans of the trio and their other recordings, showing as it does an incredible raising of the art of interpretation to what is arguably an even higher level. The way they play these tunes is so fresh that each of them can sound like an entirely new piece each and every time they sit down to play it. The sheer breadth of material and playing here gives the impression of something very complete, and Jarretts final stirring playing is so heartfelt, you’d have to possess the stoniest of hearts not to be entirely transfixed. ‘The Out Of Towners’ is stellar Standards Trio, but more than that, it is stellar piano trio, and simply brilliant music.

*****

Review: Keith Jarrett - Vienna Concert

Keith Jarrett has been quoted, and repeated in the liner notes to this release, as saying “I have courted the fire for a very long time, and many sparks have flown in the past, but the music on this recording speaks, finally, the language of the flame itself” - typically modest and humble comments from the man himself, which admittedly don’t reach the level of self-belief of his ‘La Scala’ liner notes, but taken on their own terms, do speak the truth. Considered by Jarrett to be his most epic and simply best live improvisation, Vienna really is, from beginning to end, the most complete of his performances to date.

Part I is the centrepiece of the recording, and at forty-two minutes effectively divides itself into several movements. The first, at a dozen minutes, creates a simple and beautiful theme, and toys with it in various ways, slowly building the tension and creating a musical story. Beautiful, the music approaches an almost transcendant quality, before the second movement comes in, beginning quietly and then rising itself to a climactic crescendo. Seguing into another basic theme, Jarrett comes down in mood for the piece’s coda, quoting the theme from the earlier movement in a different manner, before ending with a truly sublime falling cascading motion of notes, allowing the listener a soft and satisfying conclusion to easily one of his most complete and ultimate performances.

One of the finest improvisations you will ever hear from Jarrett, or anyone, the way the themes are built into a tight narrative almost convinces you that the piece had to be composed. Possessing a devastatingly beautiful melody that builds into a soulful swagger and leads admittedly to a few of Jarrett’s trademark ‘oohing’ and ‘aahing’ as he knows he’s hit the right spots. Moments build and ease away, picquing the listeners’ interest and then drawing them in closer.

The second piece here starts with much more intensity than the first and overall doesn’t feel quite as varied, lacking the build and fall of the earlier piece. The prowess of Jarretts’ piano playing though is much on display as the music flows through a number of astounding movements and passages. Playing around a basic groove, it lacks perhaps the sophistication of Part I, and there is maybe a slight hint of Jarrett being tired after that gargantuan epic. More like a coda to the first part than a second individual performance, but as a stand alone it is an impressive piece.

The whole concert here is one of the most soulful and beautiful Jarrett has ever played. Even with the many wonderful works of beauty he has created spontaneously, this one glorious night in Vienna stands as his peak, with perhaps only his much-loved Koln concert to rival it. It is music of the highest calibre.

*****

Review: Keith Jarrett - Staircase

Aside from Keith Jarrett’s much, and justly, celebrated solo concert improvisations, such as the popular ‘Koln Concert’ and ‘La Scala’, he has also on a handful of occasions entered the studio with the intent of improvising purely in-the-moment music. The most famous of these is the first solo improvised effort he recorded for ECM records, the classic ‘Facing You’. A slightly less well-known but much more ambitious, much grander statement is his later double album package ‘Staircase’.

‘Staircase’ is of course a slightly misleading title, as only three of the pieces here are named as such, with the others being various parts or ‘movements’ under the banners of ‘Hourglass’, ‘Sundial’ and ‘Sand’ – not that the mood changes a great deal throughout to justify the differing names. Although on the original vinyl pressing, it would have made a neat set of titles for each LP side.

Taking a slightly different path from his usual solo studio albums, Jarrett avoids his usually favoured funkier and overtly gospel tones of his earlier sessions, and chooses instead a deeply introspective and reflective direction. It then manages to be simultaneously one of his best and his worst, and exemplifying both.

‘Staircase’ one through to three is beautifully played and showcases Jarrett’s perfect touch and sensitive handling, but it is ‘Hourglass’ that is the unquestionable peak here; lyrical and moving, part two is one of his most gorgeous moments of all time, and even the most ardent Jarrett critic will struggle not to love it.

The second half of the double-set then is where the let down comes. Still sensitively played, ‘Sundial’ and ‘Sand’, though with elegant highs, meander for notable periods, becoming repetitive and occasionally flat, almost as though the pianist is momentarily lost for ideas and comping whilst waiting for inspiration to again hit. Also in the mix is some unwelcome dissonance and atonalism, which while they have their place, tends here to upset the otherwise inward-looking and gently soulful mood.

It’s hard to find a bad Keith Jarrett album, and his pitch-perfect tone and exquisite touch are always there to both admire and be hypnotized by. Here he finds great beauty which can often take the listener to musical places never before felt, and yet there is a certain wasted space, with a sometimes directionless tinkling of the keys sounding free of any of the necessary inspiration that his usual live audience provides. ‘Staircase’ is mostly strong and an appealing lesser-known work from Jarrett’s vast catalogue that, though would have benefitted from some editing, comes with many highs and also a fair smattering of lows. Jarrett has produced much better and much more consistent, but on its own terms this ambitious sprawl remains a definite and stand-alone listening pleasure.

***

Review: Keith Jarrett - The Melody At Night With You

During the late 1990s, Keith Jarrett had started to feel ill; seriously ill. Having for over 30 years been touring and recording as a solo improviser, as an interpreter of the classical works, and with his trio, among countless other groups, he ended 1996, at just 50 years of age, with a diagnosis of Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. Almost immediately he consigned himself to his house before attempting to rest and recover through an intense treatment program.

Two years of inactivity followed, with no new releases or performances, and almost certainly minimal contact with the piano. Then, faced with buying a Christmas present for his wife, and unable to leave the house, he miked his home piano and hit the record button. The results he gave to Rose Anne Jarrett. And now, much to our good fortune, he has given us ‘The Melody At Night, With You’.

If you’d followed Jarretts works chronologically up to this point, ‘The Melody At Night, With You’ would come somewhat as a surprise. Featuring only tiny occasional improvisation, this album is made up of just ten classic songs performed simply and disarmingly. Careful and thoughtful, Jarrett here removes any trace of technical elaboration or virtuosity, instead choosing to focus on the bare essentials of melody and harmony.

‘I Loves You Porgy’ is, despite its over-familiarity, sublime, while ‘Someone To Watch Over Me’ is the perfect example of Jarretts ability to make any record his own with his own delicate and light-as-a-feather touch. The same lightness of touch comes to the fore of the sad beauty of ‘Blame It On My Youth’ which moves into the only improvisation of any length here titled ‘Meditation’.

Elegant in its conception this is music to move Jarrett, and in moving Jarrett, music to move his fans. For those that have always enjoyed his more exploratory works, you may perhaps find this too spare, too simple. But for those who are put off by his vocalisations during his performances, which admittedly are at times surprisingly loud, they will find a record almost entirely absent of this distraction. A very much night record, the presentation here is almost ethereal, and yearns to be heard by everyone at least just once.

For all fans of solo piano, jazz or otherwise, this introspective recording is near perfect, with only the slightly lo-fi recording sound negatively impacting in any way – especially when compared with ECM’s usual pristine crystal clarity sound. Regardless of this, it is an astonishingly subtle musical statement. Jarret has said many times just how intensely proud of it he is. A beautiful listening experience, he has every right to feel so proud.

****

Review: Keith Jarrett - La Scala

Keith Jarrett is a name guaranteed to spark heated debate in the world of jazz. On one side, complaints range from the trivial to the genuinely legitimate, such as his physical movements when playing the piano (described most commonly as writhing, epileptic and gyrating) to his on-stage squawks, woops, grunts and ‘singing’ along, and his occasional confrontational attitude to ‘intrusive’ audiences. On the other side, praise runs high for his superb now 25-year old standards trio, his near peerless take on such classical heavyweights as Bach and Shostakovich, and of course his undeniably stunning improvised solo piano concerts.

Recorded live at the world famous Teatro Alla Scala opera house in Milan, Italy on the evening of February 13^th 1995, ‘La Scala’ is a solo piano set capturing the two lengthy Jarrett improvisations created that evening; a historical first for La Scala, being famous, up until this moment, for hosting solely classical and opera events.

Titled with the usual simplicity, ‘Part One’ the first piece begins slowly and delicately, Jarrett taking his time in pacing and progression, and gentle flourishes gradually giving way to more complex playing. Very subtlely this slowly emerges into a much darker and brooding theme that relentlessly refuses to give the listener a single uplifting note. Around the fifteen minute mark, when the pace begins to pick up, is when Jarrett’s wails and moans join the fray. Whether you can ignore these, or choose negatively to focus on these, is by the by, but the vocalisations are also accompanied with slow rhythmic foot-stomping which surprisingly only adds to the almost stirring foreboding atmosphere that emerges.

This darkness continues for some twenty minutes, with skillful improvisation running throughout, and just when it begins to seem as though it might outstay its welcome, a truly beautiful release begins to unfurl. Bringing a strong resolution to the piece, it is a gorgeous and lyrical conclusion that will defy any criticism of his ability to spontaneously create truly heart-string pulling music. Were the word beauty to ever be used for any moment in music, this would surely be that moment.

‘Part Two’ chooses to begin very differently from ‘Part One’, with fast and frenetic notes pouring from the piano almost as though Jarrett is playing a stream of his sub-conscious. This after five minutes emerges into a slower and quieter passage, but with light-fingered and fast dancing runs skipping over the top – Jarrett matching the pace with orgasmic sounding moans and wails.

Seven minutes in and the pace hits top gear, Jarrett exploring the whole keyboard and the energy levels never flagging. The thirteen minute mark though is where the money is; Jarrett winding his playing into a gorgeous ‘swimming’ section, the keys mimicking the sound of rippling water, on top of a quiet and gentle melody underneath. It is deeply moving music.

The music then picks up into an incredible whirlwind stride, getting faster and faster and then suddenly comes to a halt. And the reception from the audience is nothing short of enthusiastic, enthusiastic and grateful for being able to witness this one-off event, where one man is able to spontaneously create whole and complete music.

After the brooding and beautiful first piece, and the almost chaotic high energy emitting from the second piece, the rapturous applause gives way to an absolute delight of an encore in the form of the standard ‘Somewhere Over The Rainbow’. A luminous performance, Jarrett’s delicate touch makes the song, and happily for any dissenters, given the langorous pace, the loud vocalizations are completely absent, allowing us to focus solely on the quiet elegance of the piece.

A first-class addition to Jarretts solo piano work, ‘La Scala’ is a great slice of outstanding music. If you’re new to Keith Jarret, then this is a pretty good starting point to his solo ventures, sitting proudly up there with with his more famous ‘Koln’ and ‘Vienna’ concerts. The range here may be slightly less than those masterworks, occupying as it does a mostly dark ground, but you will still find much to savour. ‘La Scala’ continues Jarretts bold and beautiful inventions in music, and long may he continue.

*****