By Marilyn Lester . . .
Playing his first solo piece of the evening, “On the Sunny Side of the Street” (Jimmy McHugh), the slow, deliberate tempo gave the mood of a meditation, of preparation. And from that starting point, Jazz in July outgoing Artistic Director, Bill Charlap, pulled rabbit after rabbit out of his musical hat, for nearly 90 continuous minutes of sheer delight. What was so startling beside his extraordinary talent? There was no preset program. This magician of the keys improvised the set list on the spot, drawing from his vast knowledge of the American Songbook and from years of experience playing these timeless works. Plus, over the years, Charlap has grown more at ease with his role out front, comfortable in his role as host and genial entertainer. He’s witty (greeting the audience with an introduction of “this is the band,” indicating the piano) and also playful at the keys while applying creative ideas liberally.
What emerged during the evening was a tour and tour de force of mostly the best-known works of the American Songbook, played soulfully and mindful of the audience demographic in the intimate space of the Buttenwieser Hall. While Charlap has many piano personas, this recital skewed to the melodic, with a minimum of jazz improvisation, which is not to say there wasn’t any. Rather, in this program, improv was salted through like a good, effective spice. Such was the case with uptempo tunes “(You’d Be So) Easy to Love” (Cole Porter) and “You and the Night and the Music” (Arthur Schwartz), which was one of the “jazziest” pieces of the set and which ended with a super-dramatic statement, a current favored conclusion for Charlap these days. He’s also become more percussive than in the past, using sharp tones to add some dynamism during play or to put a button on a tune’s finale.
Variety was ensured not only in employing various piano technique: tempo changes, glissandi, runs, riffs, vamping and so on, but knowing when and where to apply them. In his interpetation of “By Myself” (Arthur Schwartz), which he said, “has Fred Astaire all over it,” Charlap proceeded to execute a choreography of keys that indeed made the graceful dancing of Astaire come alive. Charlap also has a secret weapon and that is he knows the lyrics to the songs he plays. That derives from growing up with mother Sandy Stewart, one of the foremost interpreters of the songbook, as well as membership in the “club” of musicians who understand that knowing the lyric informs and contributes vitally to the musical story being played. This truth was beautifully expressed in a medley: from “My Ideal” (Richard Whiting), swooning; to “I Was Born in Love with You” (Michel Legrand), hauntingly intense; to “My Funny Valentine” (Richard Rodgers), spirited appreciation; and to “All the Things You Are” (Jerome Kern), triumphant. The moods and arc of this wonderful string of songs told the story of definitive declarations of love. And to put a fine point on it, Charlap added “Come Rain or Come Shine” (Harold Arlen). Switching to the heartbreak of love, his interpretation of “It Never Entered My Mind” (Richard Rodgers) established the fact that a piano can deliver a torch song as well as any vocalist can.
When Cole Porter wrote “Love for Sale” in 1930 for the Broadway show The New Yorkers, some newspapers labelled it as “in bad taste” and some radio stations refused to play it. Generally, this song about ladies of the night is played or sung with a sultry air, echoing the lyric “follow me and climb the stairs.” Cleverly, Charlap created a mood of what’s happening once those stairs are climbed. His version conjured a “sporting house”—slightly stride, slightly honky tonk, and evocative of Ellis Larkin’s piano style in his duet of this tune with cornetist Ruby Braff. Taking a page from Charlap’s mentor (and first Jazz in July Artistic Director) Dick Hyman, Charlap asked for a request. “A Nightingale Sang in Berkley Square” (Manning Sherwin) was shouted out. Suprisingly, Charlap said he’d never played it and then proceeded to create a thoughful version as if he’d done so many times over.
The penultimate song of the evening was a 1918 golden oldie, “After You’ve Gone” (Turner Layton), flawlessly played at prestissimo tempo, fingers flying up and down the eighty eights. This wonderment, capping off an astounding evening of piano perfection, garnered a prolonged and well-deserved standing ovation. In the subsequent quiet, Charlap played his encore, a moving and heartfelt “I Left My Heart in San Francisco” (George Cory). No one had to be told this was an homage to the recently passed and much beloved Tony Bennett. In his playing, Charlap embodied all that music is meant for and all it can do—communicating volumes of emotion in notes and chords. It was a perfect ending to a special night.
Photos: Richard Termine
