Oscar Peterson
The Way I Really Play

Oscar Peterson died on December 24th, at the age of 82, due to severe kidney failure. 

The Canadian pianist was one of the last great jazz musicians of the past still alive. One of those who witnessed the birth and evolution of modern jazz, and who contributed to building a true expressive vocabulary. A stylist par excellence, an engraver of the pianistic sound by antonomasia, he was one of the main figures responsible for the universal and enduring success of the piano trio as an instrumental group, initially with guitar and bass, and later with bass and drums.

His experiences and collaborations in the musical field are as vast as a career spanning more than half a century, which began in the 1940s, allows. His masterful technique was inspired by Art Tatum, and his taste, his always courteous approach had much in common with the pianism of Nat "King" Cole.

But once he formed his style, he became a master of himself. Immobile in time, crystallized in the purity of his sound, he specialized in an absolutely mainstream repertoire, in which both ballads and faster pieces were always treated with great respect, with love. The starting material was never an end in itself for Peterson; it did not represent a pretext, a "vehicle" for the exercise of improvisation. On the contrary, the great American songwriters' songs were an integral part of his aesthetic creed, and it is for this reason that in his improvisations there is never a stravolgimento (upheaval) of the piece, neither melodically, nor harmonically, nor through the insertion of particular metric difficulties. What happens instead is a great enjoyment in playing with his fingers, making them run very fast and light over the keyboard, never a note out of place, without using dissonances; and then the dynamics game, a game that was almost too easy for him.. everything in Peterson's music always went as smooth as oil. No tension, no research, no risk. Everything was relaxed and under control.

Precisely for this (apparent) ease, for his virtuosity, and for the recurring use of certain ornamental figures, Peterson was often attacked by the critics and branded as a pianist with fast fingers and an empty head, a superficial one, almost a "cocktail pianist." Naturally, the truth is elsewhere; if one cannot claim that Peterson was a genius of his instrument, I think it's correct to say at least that he was one of its greatest professionals, and that his great skill, combined with his communicative power and his likeability, made him a popularizer. Thanks to people like Peterson, jazz was greatly "popularized," overcoming the preconceptions of those who imagined this music as something incomprehensible, unmelodic, and boring.

Peterson's discography is vast, all of at least decent level, but quite homogeneous, without great masterpieces, as is typically the case with this kind of musician.

This album is perhaps the most pleasant and enjoyable Peterson record I have ever heard. The title, "The Way I Really Play", speaks for itself! Here lies the quintessence of Oscar: swing and class in abundance, crystal clear articulation, delicacy in the ballads.

The album, from '67, is Volume 3 of a series of 6 CDs that can also be purchased individually, which make up the box set "Exclusively For My Friends," published by the German label MPS (Most Perfect Sound), and splendidly recorded by Hans Georg Brunner-Schwer. The circumstances of these recordings are particular: they were private concerts for a small circle of friends (hence the title of the box), held at our Hans's house. The idea was very simple but effective: to capture the excitement and energy typical of Oscar's live performances, but without the distracting noise of a crowded venue, and above all, with a recording quality that finally did justice to Oscar's timbral and dynamic refinements, always frustrated by the rendering of "normal" recordings. The result is explosive, and having the disc in the player is the closest thing to actually being in front of his Steinway.

The great surprise of the record is the drummer Bob Durham, as little known as he is extraordinary. The solo and exchanges he performs in "Waltzing Is Hip" are phenomenal, but his performance is remarkable throughout the album. The bassist Sam Jones is less in the spotlight, but he is always more than dignified in his traditional type of accompaniment.

However, the focus is obviously on Peterson, who offers moments of great feeling and instrumental mastery in his "Sandy's Blues" and "Noreen's Nocturne", and of pure beauty in the ballads present: "Satin Doll" by Duke Ellington; "Love Is Here To Stay", in which both Gershwin and the master Art Tatum are honored (where his pianistic style is deliberately imitated in the intro); and "Alice In Wonderland", the theme taken from the Disney classic popularized in the jazz world by Bill Evans.

In conclusion, a beautiful record, not a masterpiece, but something suitable for all tastes, absolutely communicative. An uncommitted and rewarding listening experience, perfect for when you are dead tired and Cecil Taylor can be the final blow. Highly recommended is also Volume 1 of the series, "Action," with Ray Brown and Ed Thigpen.

Rest in peace, Oscar, and say hello to the others for us. You are not forgotten! 

P.S.: I bought this CD in Prague, on the very day of his death, and the coincidence really left me speechless...