Children are never born with an innate sense of musical ability; they learn to create music through the help of influential mentors. Sometimes these role models are a natural part of life—a member of the family, a close friend, or even a neighbor. Other times, mentors might be local musicians, active educators, or even a legendary artist. Wherever they come from, they enter a young person's life and they leave a piece of themselves with that aspiring musician. These chunks of knowledge become the building blocks for this young person to find their way into a professional career or an important artistic expression. The more mentors a young person encounters, the stronger their foundation becomes, and the closer they come to reaching their full potential.
From a young age and long into his professional career, pianist Danilo Pérez was assisted by some of the world's best mentors. He spent his childhood surrounded by one of the most powerful mentors in his life, his father, a professional singer on Panama's active scene. Pérez's father helped instill a deep love of music into his life, and encouraged him to play percussion, guitar, and piano. As his interest grew deeper, he began formal studies at the National Conservatory, connecting with local musician Edgardo Quintero. His connection with Quintero soon led to regular work in dance bands, where he came into contact with important musicians both from Panama and abroad. While his musical involvement grew, Pérez simultaneously earned a technical degree in electronics. He started university studies in the field, but the pull of music was simply too strong. He earned a Fullbright Scholarship, saved money from gigs, and moved to the United States. Pérez started his Stateside schooling at Indiana University in Pennsylvania, slowing making his way into the school's music department. Encouraged by a friend, Pérez applied for admission at the Berklee College of Music and won the Quincy Jones Scholarship. He began classes at Berklee, but his professors soon noticed his talent and recommended him for a string of gigs. One of these recommendations sent Pérez to New York, where he earned a gig with legendary jazz singer Jon Hendricks. His work with Hendricks connected Pérez with a number of important musicians, leading to gigs with Terence Blanchard, Tom Harrell, Paquito D'Rivera, and many more. As Pérez started gaining momentum in his musical career, he got a major boost through a call about a last minute sub gig with Dizzy Gillespie's United Nations Orchestra. As he moved into the company of a legend, Pérez continued his massive artistic growth with the help of one of the music's most important mentors.
Each experience with these mentors made Pérez a stronger musician and supplied him with a set of tools for musical success. He would soon apply those tools towards a prolific career as a leader and a creative role model for a new generation. In Part One of our interview with Pérez, we looked at the influence of his father upon his musical life, his participation in Panama's music scene, and his extensive professional experience as a young person. Today, we discuss Pérez's move to the States, his collegiate studies, and his string of important gigs with musicians such as Jon Hendricks, Paquito D'Rivera, and more.
LATIN JAZZ CORNER: You ended up at Indiana University—were you doing music there?
DANILO PÉREZ: I started doing English; I couldn't speak that well. It was very difficult. I'll never forget when my father brought me and left me there. It was the first time that we were going to be separated. It was really powerful. When he left, I felt overwhelmed. I was 17.
I got in there and I took a minor in music. I took some piano lessons after I met a piano teacher. But I took other courses as well, not only music. I was taking the general education classes. I did manage to get in the scene there and they started called me. I wasn't really full time in the music program, but they were saying, “Wow, there's a new pianist!" They were calling me, and I started playing little gigs here and there. Nothing much, but just once in a while.
There was a friend of mine at the time in Boston at Berklee College of Music—his name is Jorge Carrizo. At that time, there were very few people that had come to Berklee from Panama. There was him and two more—maybe three people. He was there in Boston and he started feeding me with all these ideas—"Boston, Boston, Boston, you've got to come to Berklee, it's amazing." He got me so excited.
At that point, I started meeting more of the music teachers at IUP. They just started putting me in the big band, and they got me into it. That was the second semester. They started advising me—"You should think about Berklee." So everything started leading me on to continue this very serious path. I applied to Berklee, sent a tape, and I got the Quincy Jones scholarship! It was one of the happiest days of my life. That was how I could come to Boston.
So I left and I came to Berklee. I'll never forget that feeling; I had never seen so many talented people together. I would see a teacher and I would see a student, but I didn't know who was the teacher and who was the student! If I saw a student, I would say, “Hey, are you going to be teaching?" They would say, “No, I'm studying here!" The level was very high. A lot of the wonderful pianists that are out there now were there at the time. There were a lot of people that you probably know. There was a whole scene going on. I said, “Well, here it is. This is what I wanted." I had my doubts, but my mother said, “Look, you made this decision to do this." My father said, “Surround yourself with good teachers and continue doing what you're doing." And I did.
I met Donald Brown and James Williams. I met Victor Mendoza, who was a great supporter, and then through him I met Claudio Roditi. I started meeting a lot of people. I met Slide Hampton and Clark Terry . . . I started meeting all these amazing teachers.
From the beginning, Donald Brown was one who said, “Look man, I'm going to recommend you for some gigs." I was like, “What?!?" So he recommended me to do an audition with Art Blakey. I was so afraid that I didn't do it! Then the second time, he recommended me to do an audition with Jon Hendricks; Cyrus Chestnut had just left the gig.
This time I went to New York. I went from Boston to New York and I was really freaking out because the city was huge. I'll never forget coming from the Bronx and starting to see the buildings. It was like really scary, there was a line of piano players waiting for the audition. I was one of the last ones. He made play, and then he said, “O.K., we've got the pianist." I was like, “Wow." I kind of understood, but not really. He said, “So, you're going to school right?" I was like, “Yea." “O.K., you've got the gig." I said, “Thank you very much, when are we going to start rehearsing?" He said, “Right now."
So I had to leave school! By this time, I was already going through this thing with my mother—I changed from electronics to music completely, then I went to Indiana University, then I told her that I'm moving to Boston, and then I called her and told her that I'm actually moving to New York. My mother was going crazy, she was really, really worried. I told her that I was going on the road with Jon Hendricks.
That was jazz history 101. I had to learn the music from the tapes, there was no CD. I had to learn the music from the tapes in front of everybody. I had to pick up the things that were played. That was my training. In a way, it was sort of like going back to my father, back to square one. I was there transcribing in front of everybody, learning the arrangements. He wanted everything exactly like the record.
I grew up already with that mentality, people paying me to write the music. When I was playing bongos with Edgardo Quintero's orquesta in Panama, he gave me the chance to play piano and also to write arrangements. So I got that training very early on—at 11 or 12 I was doing that. I started doing that a lot in Panama. There is an international festival called the OTI Festival; it's an Ibero-American festival. All the countries get together and they make a competition for the best song and the best arrangement. This is coming from Spain, Colombia, and all the Hispanic countries. I won in Panama twice. At 13 or 14, I sent an orchestral version of a song. I didn't even know how to write for violin, but I taught myself and sent the score. So I had some training already doing this. It was a very good training in Panama.
When he asked me to do that, I needed to use all those resources. He wanted me to transcribe it immediately, and then he would say, “Let's move on and change the key." It was so much repertoire—first it was like, “We're going to do the Count Basie book and then we're going to do the Horace Silver book. Here's the dates, I'll send you the tapes. Then we're going to do Duke Ellington's “Mood Indigo" . . ." Later he decided, “We're actually going to start with a Nat King Cole tour." So I had to learn all the most important tunes from Nat King Cole. That was it; that was my training. Here I was on the road with Jon Hendricks, meeting all the jazz giants, playing with people like (bassist) Andy McCloud. The singers were really good; it was really, really a fantastic experience.
Playing with Jon Hendricks opened a lot of doors, especially in the jazz world. After that gig, I was in a jam session and Terrence Blanchard heard me. So I was the first pianist for his first quintet as a leader, after he broke up with Donald Harrison. I started working with him.
At the same time, I was working with Victor Mendoza when I was in Boston. He introduced me to Claudio Roditi and Claudio introduced me to Paquito D'Rivera. I went to the Blue Note one night and sat in with him. In front of everybody, Paquito told everybody, “I've got my new pianist!" So I got hired immediately. That's how things were happening for me. It was like an idea to go somewhere and then I would encounter another situation.
Paquito was very supportive . . . he was very, very supportive. He allowed me also to practice my musical direction—he made me his musical director. So I got a lot of training out that. I got to produce one of his records, Reunion, with Arturo Sandoval. I got to really direct and produce that record. That experience was really great, because also I touched base with a lot of music. My father and I used to do that; we would play Venezuelan, Brazilian, and all these combinations of rhythms, classical, and more.
I had the experience that somebody would call me for a gig, I would go, and I didn't think about the benefits or anything; I just loved the music, so I kept going to where my heart told me to go. One day I got a gig with a drummer and Tom Harrell was on the gig. It was upstate New York. We met and we had an amazing experience at this bar, just blowing. The next week, James Williams recommended me, so I went to this famous club, Seventh Avenue South that Randy and Michael Brecker owned. I went there and subbed; Bob Mintzer was playing, and so was Keith Copland. It was Tom Harrell's gig, so I started playing with him. Then next thing, Tom Harrell led me to Charlie Haden, Paul Motion, and Joe Lovano. Things just started to develop. On one side I was doing that, on the other side, I was doing Paquito's gigs. Then people just started recommending me.
The mentorship was really on a high level. I was mentored by a lot of great people. I'm very grateful for that.
LJC: Sometime after that, you got the gig with Dizzy Gillespie's United Nations Orchestra.
DP: Right, that went back to playing in school with Slide Hampton, James Moody, Claudio Roditi, and then Paquito. Monty Alexander was the pianist and he couldn't make a tour. I had just made it into the semi-finals at the Monk Institute and I was about to go there when I got a call. Apparently, Paquito, Claudio, and some of the cats recommended me with Dizzy. Charlie Fishman, who was his manager at that time, called me and said, “We need you to go on the tour, it's urgent." I said, “What?!?" I remember jumping and hitting my head on the roof! I was so excited. I couldn't believe it how things were developing. Here I was in the Kennedy Airport waiting for everybody. Every one of those experiences had such an impact on me. It still comes out sometimes, either in the way that I remember something, the way I play, or the way that I teach.
From a young age and long into his professional career, pianist Danilo Pérez was assisted by some of the world's best mentors. He spent his childhood surrounded by one of the most powerful mentors in his life, his father, a professional singer on Panama's active scene. Pérez's father helped instill a deep love of music into his life, and encouraged him to play percussion, guitar, and piano. As his interest grew deeper, he began formal studies at the National Conservatory, connecting with local musician Edgardo Quintero. His connection with Quintero soon led to regular work in dance bands, where he came into contact with important musicians both from Panama and abroad. While his musical involvement grew, Pérez simultaneously earned a technical degree in electronics. He started university studies in the field, but the pull of music was simply too strong. He earned a Fullbright Scholarship, saved money from gigs, and moved to the United States. Pérez started his Stateside schooling at Indiana University in Pennsylvania, slowing making his way into the school's music department. Encouraged by a friend, Pérez applied for admission at the Berklee College of Music and won the Quincy Jones Scholarship. He began classes at Berklee, but his professors soon noticed his talent and recommended him for a string of gigs. One of these recommendations sent Pérez to New York, where he earned a gig with legendary jazz singer Jon Hendricks. His work with Hendricks connected Pérez with a number of important musicians, leading to gigs with Terence Blanchard, Tom Harrell, Paquito D'Rivera, and many more. As Pérez started gaining momentum in his musical career, he got a major boost through a call about a last minute sub gig with Dizzy Gillespie's United Nations Orchestra. As he moved into the company of a legend, Pérez continued his massive artistic growth with the help of one of the music's most important mentors.
Each experience with these mentors made Pérez a stronger musician and supplied him with a set of tools for musical success. He would soon apply those tools towards a prolific career as a leader and a creative role model for a new generation. In Part One of our interview with Pérez, we looked at the influence of his father upon his musical life, his participation in Panama's music scene, and his extensive professional experience as a young person. Today, we discuss Pérez's move to the States, his collegiate studies, and his string of important gigs with musicians such as Jon Hendricks, Paquito D'Rivera, and more.
LATIN JAZZ CORNER: You ended up at Indiana University—were you doing music there?
DANILO PÉREZ: I started doing English; I couldn't speak that well. It was very difficult. I'll never forget when my father brought me and left me there. It was the first time that we were going to be separated. It was really powerful. When he left, I felt overwhelmed. I was 17.
I got in there and I took a minor in music. I took some piano lessons after I met a piano teacher. But I took other courses as well, not only music. I was taking the general education classes. I did manage to get in the scene there and they started called me. I wasn't really full time in the music program, but they were saying, “Wow, there's a new pianist!" They were calling me, and I started playing little gigs here and there. Nothing much, but just once in a while.
There was a friend of mine at the time in Boston at Berklee College of Music—his name is Jorge Carrizo. At that time, there were very few people that had come to Berklee from Panama. There was him and two more—maybe three people. He was there in Boston and he started feeding me with all these ideas—"Boston, Boston, Boston, you've got to come to Berklee, it's amazing." He got me so excited.
At that point, I started meeting more of the music teachers at IUP. They just started putting me in the big band, and they got me into it. That was the second semester. They started advising me—"You should think about Berklee." So everything started leading me on to continue this very serious path. I applied to Berklee, sent a tape, and I got the Quincy Jones scholarship! It was one of the happiest days of my life. That was how I could come to Boston.
So I left and I came to Berklee. I'll never forget that feeling; I had never seen so many talented people together. I would see a teacher and I would see a student, but I didn't know who was the teacher and who was the student! If I saw a student, I would say, “Hey, are you going to be teaching?" They would say, “No, I'm studying here!" The level was very high. A lot of the wonderful pianists that are out there now were there at the time. There were a lot of people that you probably know. There was a whole scene going on. I said, “Well, here it is. This is what I wanted." I had my doubts, but my mother said, “Look, you made this decision to do this." My father said, “Surround yourself with good teachers and continue doing what you're doing." And I did.
I met Donald Brown and James Williams. I met Victor Mendoza, who was a great supporter, and then through him I met Claudio Roditi. I started meeting a lot of people. I met Slide Hampton and Clark Terry . . . I started meeting all these amazing teachers.
From the beginning, Donald Brown was one who said, “Look man, I'm going to recommend you for some gigs." I was like, “What?!?" So he recommended me to do an audition with Art Blakey. I was so afraid that I didn't do it! Then the second time, he recommended me to do an audition with Jon Hendricks; Cyrus Chestnut had just left the gig.
This time I went to New York. I went from Boston to New York and I was really freaking out because the city was huge. I'll never forget coming from the Bronx and starting to see the buildings. It was like really scary, there was a line of piano players waiting for the audition. I was one of the last ones. He made play, and then he said, “O.K., we've got the pianist." I was like, “Wow." I kind of understood, but not really. He said, “So, you're going to school right?" I was like, “Yea." “O.K., you've got the gig." I said, “Thank you very much, when are we going to start rehearsing?" He said, “Right now."
So I had to leave school! By this time, I was already going through this thing with my mother—I changed from electronics to music completely, then I went to Indiana University, then I told her that I'm moving to Boston, and then I called her and told her that I'm actually moving to New York. My mother was going crazy, she was really, really worried. I told her that I was going on the road with Jon Hendricks.
That was jazz history 101. I had to learn the music from the tapes, there was no CD. I had to learn the music from the tapes in front of everybody. I had to pick up the things that were played. That was my training. In a way, it was sort of like going back to my father, back to square one. I was there transcribing in front of everybody, learning the arrangements. He wanted everything exactly like the record.
I grew up already with that mentality, people paying me to write the music. When I was playing bongos with Edgardo Quintero's orquesta in Panama, he gave me the chance to play piano and also to write arrangements. So I got that training very early on—at 11 or 12 I was doing that. I started doing that a lot in Panama. There is an international festival called the OTI Festival; it's an Ibero-American festival. All the countries get together and they make a competition for the best song and the best arrangement. This is coming from Spain, Colombia, and all the Hispanic countries. I won in Panama twice. At 13 or 14, I sent an orchestral version of a song. I didn't even know how to write for violin, but I taught myself and sent the score. So I had some training already doing this. It was a very good training in Panama.
When he asked me to do that, I needed to use all those resources. He wanted me to transcribe it immediately, and then he would say, “Let's move on and change the key." It was so much repertoire—first it was like, “We're going to do the Count Basie book and then we're going to do the Horace Silver book. Here's the dates, I'll send you the tapes. Then we're going to do Duke Ellington's “Mood Indigo" . . ." Later he decided, “We're actually going to start with a Nat King Cole tour." So I had to learn all the most important tunes from Nat King Cole. That was it; that was my training. Here I was on the road with Jon Hendricks, meeting all the jazz giants, playing with people like (bassist) Andy McCloud. The singers were really good; it was really, really a fantastic experience.
Playing with Jon Hendricks opened a lot of doors, especially in the jazz world. After that gig, I was in a jam session and Terrence Blanchard heard me. So I was the first pianist for his first quintet as a leader, after he broke up with Donald Harrison. I started working with him.
At the same time, I was working with Victor Mendoza when I was in Boston. He introduced me to Claudio Roditi and Claudio introduced me to Paquito D'Rivera. I went to the Blue Note one night and sat in with him. In front of everybody, Paquito told everybody, “I've got my new pianist!" So I got hired immediately. That's how things were happening for me. It was like an idea to go somewhere and then I would encounter another situation.
Paquito was very supportive . . . he was very, very supportive. He allowed me also to practice my musical direction—he made me his musical director. So I got a lot of training out that. I got to produce one of his records, Reunion, with Arturo Sandoval. I got to really direct and produce that record. That experience was really great, because also I touched base with a lot of music. My father and I used to do that; we would play Venezuelan, Brazilian, and all these combinations of rhythms, classical, and more.
I had the experience that somebody would call me for a gig, I would go, and I didn't think about the benefits or anything; I just loved the music, so I kept going to where my heart told me to go. One day I got a gig with a drummer and Tom Harrell was on the gig. It was upstate New York. We met and we had an amazing experience at this bar, just blowing. The next week, James Williams recommended me, so I went to this famous club, Seventh Avenue South that Randy and Michael Brecker owned. I went there and subbed; Bob Mintzer was playing, and so was Keith Copland. It was Tom Harrell's gig, so I started playing with him. Then next thing, Tom Harrell led me to Charlie Haden, Paul Motion, and Joe Lovano. Things just started to develop. On one side I was doing that, on the other side, I was doing Paquito's gigs. Then people just started recommending me.
The mentorship was really on a high level. I was mentored by a lot of great people. I'm very grateful for that.
LJC: Sometime after that, you got the gig with Dizzy Gillespie's United Nations Orchestra.
DP: Right, that went back to playing in school with Slide Hampton, James Moody, Claudio Roditi, and then Paquito. Monty Alexander was the pianist and he couldn't make a tour. I had just made it into the semi-finals at the Monk Institute and I was about to go there when I got a call. Apparently, Paquito, Claudio, and some of the cats recommended me with Dizzy. Charlie Fishman, who was his manager at that time, called me and said, “We need you to go on the tour, it's urgent." I said, “What?!?" I remember jumping and hitting my head on the roof! I was so excited. I couldn't believe it how things were developing. Here I was in the Kennedy Airport waiting for everybody. Every one of those experiences had such an impact on me. It still comes out sometimes, either in the way that I remember something, the way I play, or the way that I teach.
