The Space (Werner) [15:57]
Encore from Tokyo (Keith Jarrett) [03:39]
Fifth Movement (Werner) [06:06]
You Must Believe in Spring (Legrand) [07:38]
Taro (Jason Seizer) [05:03]
Kiyoko (Jason Seizer) [05:04]
If I Should Lose You (Rainger, Robin) [03;30]
Fall from Grace (Werner) [07:18]
Kenny Werner (piano)
Recorded Kyberg Studio, Oberhaching (Germany), May 11-12 2016
Pianist Kenny Werner (born in 1951) made his first recording as a leader in
1977: The Piano Music of Bix Beiderbecke, Duke Ellington, George Gershwin, James P. Johnson –
an interesting, if not especially remarkable, album which
announced him as a pianist of considerable technical accomplishment, deeply
rooted in the history of jazz, not just in the contemporary scene.
Since the late 1970s, this native New Yorker has won respect from many
fellow musicians. That is evident if one considers some of his recorded
appearances as a sideman, with, for example, Joe Lovano (e.g.Village Rhythm and Landmarks), Lee Konitz ( Zounds), Chris Potter (e.g. Concentric Circles), Archie
Shepp (e.g. Soul Song and Down Home New York) and Charles
Mingus (Something Like A Bird). Since his debut he has recorded
more than 35 albums under his own name. These have, I believe, generally
attracted less attention than they deserved. Some of the best have been
trio recordings; some were made with a long-running trio which included
bassist Ratzo Harris and drummer Tom Rainey (Introducing the Trio
and Gu-Ru); in recent years he has made a series of impressive
trio recordings with another long-lasting trio including bassist Johann
Weidenmuller and drummer Ari Hoenig (e.g. Form and Fantasy, Peace, Melody and Animal Crackers. He has also
made outstanding one-off trio recordings with Dave Holland and Jack
DeJohnette (A Delicate Balance) and with Marc Johnson and Joey
Baron (Unprotected Music).
In the same years, Werner also made a number of unaccompanied solo
recordings. Some, such as Meditations (1992) were a little diffuse
and only inconsistently successful. His 1994 recording issued on Concord as Maybeck Recital Hall Series, Volume 34 was a more
complete success, with Werner achieving a persuasively personal synthesis
of many strands of the jazz piano tradition, whether on such standards as
‘Someday My Prince Will Come’ and ‘Autumn Leaves’, or in interpretations of
his own compositions, such as ‘Roberta Moon’ and ‘Guru’. Particularly
striking is a version of Brubeck’s ‘In Your Own Sweet Way’ which morphs
into Coltrane’s ‘Naima’.
Although some of these – and other – albums were well reviewed, they
haven’t, cumulatively, achieved for Werner the reputation he deserves as a
master of jazz piano, expert and historically informed, imaginative and
sensitive, a master improvisor.
“As an acoustic pianist in modern jazz, Werner has few peers, but not the
proper acclaim. Perhaps this album will do it”. So wrote Michael G. Nastos,
reviewing Werner’s Beauty Secrets on AllMusic in 2000. I share
both Nastos’ judgement of the standing Werner merits and the hope
that this album (The Space) might aid the wider
recognition of Werner as the master he is. The Space, it seems to
me, is one of very best solo jazz piano recordings of recent years. As it
happens, a particular focus of my jazz listening in the last 18 months or
so has been unaccompanied piano, from (relatively) early greats such as
Earl Hines and the extraordinary Art Tatum through later pianists such as
Oscar Peterson, Bill Evans, Hank Jones, Andrew Hill, Cecil Taylor and Keith
Jarrett (as well as ‘outliers’ such as Dave McKenna, Jessica Williams and
Hal Galper), plus a newcomer such as Chris Donnelly . A number of hearings
have persuaded me that The Space places Werner very much in the
distinguished company of the very best jazz piano soloists.
Werner is the author of one of the most important books on improvisation to
have been written by a practicing jazz man, his Effortless Mastery
(1996). This CD, as Werner himself points out, derives its title from that
book. In his booklet note to the CD Werner writes: “‘The Space’ is the most
important title I’ve ever had for my music. It comes from a chapter in my
book, Effortless Mastery. We do things from our conscious mind or
we do them from the space. The conscious mind is small and fearful. From
the space, we are in the moment, content with what is. From the space we
make decisions without doubt, we celebrate mistakes […] in music, for
decades I have received what comes to me from the space with joy
and delicious gratitude […] This entire project was played from the space.”
The title track explores ‘space’ in an almost literal sense too, with lots
of silence leaving ‘space’ around many of the notes Werner plays. Werner’s
touch at the piano is generally tender, even delicate, without even the
slightest hint of really percussive playing. Nor does Werner’s being “in
the moment” lead him into the kind of ecstatic raptures which characterize
many of Keith Jarrett’s solo recordings. There is a more obvious
discipline, and even restraint, to Werner’s inventions. Despite his own
words – as quoted above – Werner’s conscious mind isn’t, surely, inactive
in this music; rather to quote the title of one of Werner’s earlier albums
there is “a delicate balance” in play here. The results, on the title track
especially, are extraordinarily beautiful. In my quotation from Werner’s
booklet note, I made some small omissions. Let me now restore the last of
those omissions, in its context: “This entire project was played from the
space. Hopefully it puts you in the space of your own heart as you listen”.
It did!
‘Encore from Tokyo’ is a livelier, less obviously ‘meditative’ piece, which
articulates Werner’s affinity with Jarrett’s solo recordings, but also
highlights a significant difference. Werner’s reading of Jarrett’s ‘Encore
from Tokyo’ (which can be heard on Sun Bear Concerts, ECM) is far
more concise and less rhapsodic than the original, and has a steadier
rhythmic pulse, closer to ‘swing’. The result is almost playful – if the
idea of ‘being in the space’ has something zen-like about it, we should
remember that that there is much in the zen tradition which is
playful. As R.H. Blyth observed (Oriental Humour, 1959): “ Zen has
a vital connection with humour”.
‘Fifth Movement’, another original by Werner, is an emotionally complex and
ambiguous work, several times promising a kind of positivity and even
celebration, which is then checked; the result is both moving and
beautiful. Where the two standards are concerned, ‘You Must Believe in
Spring’ gets a rich treatment, dense and complex patterns largely obscuring
the melody, until it emerges with refreshed clarity at the track’s close.
The reading of ‘If I Should Lose You’ incorporates a number of changes of
tempo, with many passages taken rather faster than is usually the case with
this tune; Werner decorates the melody with some delightful single note
runs.
Werner also tackles two tunes – ‘Toro’ and ‘Kiyoko’ by the German tenor
saxist Jason Seizer, who is also a sound-engineer and a record producer –
he has been artistic director of Pirouet since 2003. As sound-engineer here
he has certainly produced a beautiful sound, both warm and clear, which
complements Werner’s playing perfectly. I can’t, however, say that Seizer’s
two compositions draw the very best from Werner – even if ‘Kiyoko’ enables
the pianist to occupy ‘the space’ to pretty good effect. In ‘Toro’,
however, while Werner produces some attractive patterns, he doesn’t
discover much of real depth or weight in the music.
The album closes with a last original by Werner – ‘Fall from Grace’, a
dark-coloured, yet crystalline piece, in which he conjures some gorgeous
velvety textures from the piano (it would be interesting to know what
specific instrument he was playing) in a piece which moves slowly and with
a well-earned sense of its own significance, aptly rounding off an
outstanding album which demands (and rewards) attentive listening.
While not full of superficial excitement or virtuosic display, The Space is a profound and substantial body of music-making. It
needs ‘active’ listening, not mere passivity, and given it, reveals much
beauty and sensitivity – even a kind of wisdom.
Glyn Pursglove