Struggling to record The End of a Love Affair on February 20, 1958, Billie Holiday abruptly ended a take for her album Lady in Satin with resigned frustration. “No good. I don't know it. Mal, please try to play... as loud as you can. I don't know the tune." Mal was Mal Waldron, her accompanying pianist. Holiday was in the studio booth with headphones on and couldn't hear her pianist clearly enough as a melody guide over the live strings arranged and conducted by Ray Ellis. Holiday would try again but ultimately, producer Irving Townsend decided the session would be more expedient to simply record the orchestra alone and then have Holiday overdub her vocals the next day to the instrumental track.
Waldron was Holiday's favorite pianist. They had been recording together since the Newport Jazz Festival in July 1957 and appeared together on the CBS special The Sound of Jazz at year's end. Waldron was a favorite of many jazz musicians, who enjoyed his firm, soulful elegance and inventive bebop lines. Waldron can be heard on a wide range of superb jazz albums in the 1950s by artists such as Jackie McLean, Charles Mingus, Teddy Charles, Gene Ammons, Kenny Burrell, Phil Woods, Ray Draper, Paul Quinichette, John Coltrane, Herbie Mann, Steve Lacy and Bill Russo. In the early 1960s, there were major albums with Max Roach, Eric Dolphy, Dizzy Gillespie, Teddy Charles and Johhn Griffin as well as many leadership trio sessions.
Between 1966 and 1978, Waldron frequently recorded solo in the studio and on stage on albums that included All Alone, Tokyo Reverie, The Opening, Signals, Blues for Lady Day, Jazz A Confronto 19, Mal Waldron on Steinway and Meditations. Now we have Searching in Grenoble: The 1978 Solo Piano Concert. Co-produced for release by Zev Feldman and Josh Rosenthal on Tompkins Square Records, the previously unreleased recording was captured during the Grenoble Jazz Festival in Grenoble, France, on March 23, at the city's Maison de la Culture. The performance was recorded by Radio France, and the tape resided in the vaults of L'Institut National de L'Audiovisuel (INA) until recently, when they discovered and released with the cooperation of Mala Waldron, the pianist's daughter, and the Waldron estate.
The nine originals performed are moody and tormented in the Slavic sense, with Waldron playing heavily and somberly. Among the brief respites is perhaps his best known original, Soul Eyes, where the music finally starts to swing a bit. Even the standards You Don't Know What Love Is and It Could Happen to You are given the funerary treatment, with the latter one becoming more lyrical and interesting in places. Not until I Thought About You does Waldron's technique shake off the pounding effect and grow lighter with spirited playing.
None of this is a knock. Waldron was a tremendously inventive and powerful player whose work on ensemble albums is spectacular. It's important to note here that as exceptional as he was, he had his troubles and frustrations, which clearly were reflected in his keyboard approach during the concert. Drug use in the late 1950s and early '60s among jazz musicians to ease anxiety and free up creative juices often led to police harassment, legal threats to provide names of other users and dealers, police violence and prison. In 1963, Waldron experienced a breakdown following a heroin overdose that led to shock treatment, a spinal tap and a recovery period.
His battle back was a difficult one, by his own admission, writing out solos and playing what he had written down until his former skills and gifts returned. Once he had recuperated, Waldron spent a great deal of time in European cities before settling permanently in Munich in 1967, where he felt truly free. To be honest, many of his solos on this recording sound halting, as if pounding out phrases over and over again were a way to buy time to figure out what to do next. Unfortunately, many of the songs never go beyond circular and repetitive concepts and rarely lift off into an easily digestible narrative. Waldron's mood seemed dark and his playing appeared more like a grim statement or a thrashing battle with an invisible force.
Again, all of Mal Waldron's recordings are worthy of examination, because he was such an extraordinary player who had recorded extensively with top artists on important albums. Admittedly, the late 1970s, both in the U.S. but particularly in Europe, was a period or jazz experimentation, when bending and twisting the music into new personal concepts pushed boundaries and explored new territory. But as is the case with all music, the quality of the result depends on how what you're hearing makes you feel. In the end, jazz appreciation, like all things creative, is subjective. I'm just not sure that on this particular date in 1978 Mal Waldron knew completely what he wanted to say or do with the music.
Mal Waldron died in 2002.
JazzWax clip: Here's Soul Eyes...
Waldron was Holiday's favorite pianist. They had been recording together since the Newport Jazz Festival in July 1957 and appeared together on the CBS special The Sound of Jazz at year's end. Waldron was a favorite of many jazz musicians, who enjoyed his firm, soulful elegance and inventive bebop lines. Waldron can be heard on a wide range of superb jazz albums in the 1950s by artists such as Jackie McLean, Charles Mingus, Teddy Charles, Gene Ammons, Kenny Burrell, Phil Woods, Ray Draper, Paul Quinichette, John Coltrane, Herbie Mann, Steve Lacy and Bill Russo. In the early 1960s, there were major albums with Max Roach, Eric Dolphy, Dizzy Gillespie, Teddy Charles and Johhn Griffin as well as many leadership trio sessions.
Between 1966 and 1978, Waldron frequently recorded solo in the studio and on stage on albums that included All Alone, Tokyo Reverie, The Opening, Signals, Blues for Lady Day, Jazz A Confronto 19, Mal Waldron on Steinway and Meditations. Now we have Searching in Grenoble: The 1978 Solo Piano Concert. Co-produced for release by Zev Feldman and Josh Rosenthal on Tompkins Square Records, the previously unreleased recording was captured during the Grenoble Jazz Festival in Grenoble, France, on March 23, at the city's Maison de la Culture. The performance was recorded by Radio France, and the tape resided in the vaults of L'Institut National de L'Audiovisuel (INA) until recently, when they discovered and released with the cooperation of Mala Waldron, the pianist's daughter, and the Waldron estate.
The nine originals performed are moody and tormented in the Slavic sense, with Waldron playing heavily and somberly. Among the brief respites is perhaps his best known original, Soul Eyes, where the music finally starts to swing a bit. Even the standards You Don't Know What Love Is and It Could Happen to You are given the funerary treatment, with the latter one becoming more lyrical and interesting in places. Not until I Thought About You does Waldron's technique shake off the pounding effect and grow lighter with spirited playing.
None of this is a knock. Waldron was a tremendously inventive and powerful player whose work on ensemble albums is spectacular. It's important to note here that as exceptional as he was, he had his troubles and frustrations, which clearly were reflected in his keyboard approach during the concert. Drug use in the late 1950s and early '60s among jazz musicians to ease anxiety and free up creative juices often led to police harassment, legal threats to provide names of other users and dealers, police violence and prison. In 1963, Waldron experienced a breakdown following a heroin overdose that led to shock treatment, a spinal tap and a recovery period.
His battle back was a difficult one, by his own admission, writing out solos and playing what he had written down until his former skills and gifts returned. Once he had recuperated, Waldron spent a great deal of time in European cities before settling permanently in Munich in 1967, where he felt truly free. To be honest, many of his solos on this recording sound halting, as if pounding out phrases over and over again were a way to buy time to figure out what to do next. Unfortunately, many of the songs never go beyond circular and repetitive concepts and rarely lift off into an easily digestible narrative. Waldron's mood seemed dark and his playing appeared more like a grim statement or a thrashing battle with an invisible force.
Again, all of Mal Waldron's recordings are worthy of examination, because he was such an extraordinary player who had recorded extensively with top artists on important albums. Admittedly, the late 1970s, both in the U.S. but particularly in Europe, was a period or jazz experimentation, when bending and twisting the music into new personal concepts pushed boundaries and explored new territory. But as is the case with all music, the quality of the result depends on how what you're hearing makes you feel. In the end, jazz appreciation, like all things creative, is subjective. I'm just not sure that on this particular date in 1978 Mal Waldron knew completely what he wanted to say or do with the music.
Mal Waldron died in 2002.
JazzWax clip: Here's Soul Eyes...
This story appears courtesy of JazzWax by Marc Myers.
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