Keith Jarrett
Vienna Concert

Genius pianist, who developed through classical music and reached fame by playing jazz, Keith Jarrett needs no unnecessary introductions.

The pure talent from Pennsylvania presents himself here, without the usual trio, in one of his famous solo concerts, where he is indeed the sole protagonist of the evening alongside the trusty Steinway; these performances are a unique opportunity for the artist to freely unleash his creative vein: every composition is entirely the result of improvisation. Seated in front of the black and white keys, not even Jarrett knows what he will encounter. This pioneering approach to music only increases its charm, creating a bewitching atmosphere where the interaction between the sensitive pianist, the venue, the acoustics, the audience, and the instrument itself is crucial to the final result.

Recorded at the Vienna State Opera on July 13th, 1991 for ECM, the "Vienna Concert" captures Jarrett in stunning form.

Divided into two long tracks (about forty minutes the first, twenty the second), this historic performance once again demonstrates how the label of jazz musician feels too restrictive for him. Listening to just a few minutes of the concert, one realizes that this is "total" music, too sublime and elusive to be constrained by words. Nevertheless, the influence of classical music is obvious, even more evident than in the concerts of Cologne and Paris. It is not a coincidence, perhaps, that the records immediately preceding and following the above-mentioned contain interpretations, respectively, of Bach and Shostakovich.

The first composition is immense. An elderly man reflects on his life with tender melancholy; however, in this introspection, something unresolved emerges, something dark marking the man's past; initially, he accepts these dark feelings with resignation, apathy; emotions that will soon give way to anger, the desire to fight to eliminate a ghost that has pursued him for too long; a real hunt begins. Finally, the defeat of his demons. A more serene atmosphere which, however, like every won war, leaves one exhausted, torn, with a bitterness that clashes with easy celebrations and has the taste of tragedy.

This could be a hypothetical outline for the over forty-minute sound vortex of Jarrett. The spectators are breathless; I am too, with them.

Inevitably, the second part of the concert suffers. The opening is indeed a bit subdued, although the final minutes are, needless to say, memorable, hypnotic.

Jarrett defined it as his best concert. I don’t dare to go that far even though, undoubtedly, with this music, Keith has reached eternity; and he shares it with us.