Keith Jarrett at Carnegie, 1/26/12
Last night, coming home from work, I was looking up at the crescent moon in the dark sky, along with two planets (likely Mars and Jupiter). And then I noticed a streak that was too quick to be an airplane: It was nearly overhead, lasted perhaps 2 seconds, and then broke into pieces. Looking around the busy street,I could see that no one else noticed the very bright meteor I had seen.
Within two hours I was inside a very full Carnegie Hall, waiting for Keith Jarrett to come on and play one of his famous solo concerts. He started off with an abstract and sombre piece, and I was wondering how the evening was going to unfold.
After that, he took off and I can't really describe the musical heights he climbed. It would be easier t0 talk about his chops and all the amazing musical stunts he pulled off, all improvised. But the more important thing was that many of these pieces were truly MUSIC, evoking a range of colors and emotions that very few pianists (classical or Jazz) evoke.
Many of the piece were short: Less than 10 minutes, certainly. Some were beautiful and rambling explorations, others arrived in very clear musical forms and structures, the likes of which lesser players would practice long hours to try to play.
Between songs Jarrett would sometimes talk, often in nonlinear ways that required conceptual jumps no less challenging than his music. He spoke about how he pulled out some very old clothes (ie, those he was wearing) that he regretted, he mentioned that he didn't really understand why he reacted so strongly to coughs and flashes, etc... (though pointed out that the coughs never seemed to occur during loud runs), he stopped one piece mid-play because he "didn't want to play that and the piece is over". To screams and uproarious applause, he came out and played 4 encores, though each time it was clear he wasn't really sure that he was going to play until coming out, bowing, and thinking about it (prior to one of the encores he made a sort of indecisive swimming motion indicating the process of deciding). After one exquisite piece he stood up nodding and said, "Yes, but now what? That's the problem."
He also pointed out that some critics preferred the Koln concerts' longer forms and indeed, I recently read a review of Rio, which is a new CD of shorter improvised pieces which basically stated exactly this. Of course, coming from a Jazzer family, I know enough about Jazz to recognize that these shorter forms embrace far more of the standing 'arsenal' of Jazz forms than the longer forms did. It's not merely a matter of ending the longer forms sooner; it's a matter of tying the improvisations to a time span that in effect forces consideration of things like meter and form and resolution. It's a level of artistry that exceeds much of what even I have experienced, growing up in Carnegie or the Met Opera. It was moving and beautiful and MUSIC and a shock to experience in real life.
Within two hours I was inside a very full Carnegie Hall, waiting for Keith Jarrett to come on and play one of his famous solo concerts. He started off with an abstract and sombre piece, and I was wondering how the evening was going to unfold.
After that, he took off and I can't really describe the musical heights he climbed. It would be easier t0 talk about his chops and all the amazing musical stunts he pulled off, all improvised. But the more important thing was that many of these pieces were truly MUSIC, evoking a range of colors and emotions that very few pianists (classical or Jazz) evoke.
Many of the piece were short: Less than 10 minutes, certainly. Some were beautiful and rambling explorations, others arrived in very clear musical forms and structures, the likes of which lesser players would practice long hours to try to play.
Between songs Jarrett would sometimes talk, often in nonlinear ways that required conceptual jumps no less challenging than his music. He spoke about how he pulled out some very old clothes (ie, those he was wearing) that he regretted, he mentioned that he didn't really understand why he reacted so strongly to coughs and flashes, etc... (though pointed out that the coughs never seemed to occur during loud runs), he stopped one piece mid-play because he "didn't want to play that and the piece is over". To screams and uproarious applause, he came out and played 4 encores, though each time it was clear he wasn't really sure that he was going to play until coming out, bowing, and thinking about it (prior to one of the encores he made a sort of indecisive swimming motion indicating the process of deciding). After one exquisite piece he stood up nodding and said, "Yes, but now what? That's the problem."
He also pointed out that some critics preferred the Koln concerts' longer forms and indeed, I recently read a review of Rio, which is a new CD of shorter improvised pieces which basically stated exactly this. Of course, coming from a Jazzer family, I know enough about Jazz to recognize that these shorter forms embrace far more of the standing 'arsenal' of Jazz forms than the longer forms did. It's not merely a matter of ending the longer forms sooner; it's a matter of tying the improvisations to a time span that in effect forces consideration of things like meter and form and resolution. It's a level of artistry that exceeds much of what even I have experienced, growing up in Carnegie or the Met Opera. It was moving and beautiful and MUSIC and a shock to experience in real life.
posted by Em at 8:43 PM
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