The Berlin Concert
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DVD Cover Information
Artist: Oscar PetersonBrand: Music Video Dist
DVD: Region Code 0
Audio: English (Unknown); English (Original Language)
Format: Closed-captioned, Color, DVD, NTSC
Picture Format: 1.33:1
Running Time: 80 minutes
DVD Release Date: 2007-03-13
Audience Rating: NR (Not Rated)
Studio: Inakustic Gmbh
Movie Reviews of The Berlin Concert
Movie Review: How Oscar Peterson redefined hearing and shaped the syntax of swing
Summary: 5 Stars
I've written about Oscar Peterson extensively at All About Jazz, especially a review of a Mosaic Box Set. Some may not comprehend the following, but Oscar does have no small number of detractors--even (perhaps, especially) among music critics, musicians and pianists. The charge is usually along the lines of impugning Oscar for being some sort of polymath, a "mere" technical machine, as opposed to a genuine "creative" artist. With a Thelonious or Keith, it's possible for a listener, even a neophyte pianist, to feel as though he or she is a "participant" in the action--you're right there in the game with the pianist, matching your moves against him, working things out together. Also, Oscar is such an immoveable, relentless force, locking in the time so completely, that any other musicians he's appearing with (including, on one occasion, Coltrane) have little choice but to follow his lead (more power to the accomplices who have the chops to stay with him). As a result, the argument goes, Oscar can't give way to the greater freedoms of a Coltrane, an Elvin Jones, or an even later polyrhythmic, a-metric, multicultural artist.
Two responses: 1. Oscar is Oscar. Why would you have him be someone else, bending to the limits of others? 2. So he's not God. Isn't it enough that he's one of the best (if not numero uno) several pianists in the music's history?
It's true that when Oscar plays, you simply sit back and, providing you have real ears, settle for being amazed, overwhelmed, overcome--no more nor less. But when you have a chance to think about things, to reflect on the experience (and I do stress the word "experience"), it becomes clearer than ever that Oscar, perhaps more than any other single musician, redefined "swing," kicking it up a few notches. The prototypal, quintessential rhythm section will never be the same. Some pianists--Gene Harris, Monty Alexander, Benny Green--are able to come close to Oscar's achievement, but no one is able to lift you right out of your chair the way Oscar can. Compared to him, most rhythm sections--pianists, bass players, and drummers--sound like mere time-keepers.
So to the extent that jazz is a physical, visceral experience, Oscar is the all-time Olympian. No one swings harder. All the same, jazz, as we know, is also capable of yielding deep spiritual insights and cerebral discoveries. So one must certainly make room for Fatha Hines, Bud Powell, Thelonious, Art Tatum (perhaps the main rival to Oscar's supremacy), stylists supreme like Errol and Ahmad, and above all the "possessed" Bill Evans, including "late" Bill Evans (the places he took the music during the last 18 months of his life are dark, deep and mysterious, perhaps even dangerous--so much so that none have dared follow him there). I've frankly heard no one since--with all due respects to the brilliance of Chic, Herbie, Brad, the beloved Red Garland and Wynton Kelly, and the vastly if not shamefully under-appreciated Dave Catney--who's struck me as indispensable.
As for the present DVD, the sound is marvelous. Much has been made of the "Jazz Icons" series of the past couple years, but none has the sonic spectrum covered like the present disc (even the Buddy Rich disc is so weak in the treble the drums sound muffled, like an afterthought). Maybe "Jazz Icons" is responsible for the present disc--whoever it is managed to capture that glorious Bosendorfer by engineers sensitive to an authentic piano sound), the resonance of Pedersen's bottomless bass (Peterson's, too), the shimmering, scintillating cymbals of the relatively obscure (but highly effective) Martin Drew. (Oscar eats drummers alive--they have to be in top physical condition and prepared to hang on for dear life. God bless Ed Thigpen, who once could do it with his arms at his sides (it's all about the left foot and the hi-hat, and many drummers these days have extremely anemic, even torpid, hi-hat "claps"), and the little man of steel, the late Bobby Durham. I can't believe that I have no O.P. CDs with Martin Drew, but add him to the list: he's a killer drummer.]
The program is ample and amply varied, with a nod to Bill Evans ("My Foolish Heart") and Duke Ellington (the most unconventional, idiosyncratic "Perdido" you're likely to hear in a lifetime along with the most hard-driving version of "Caravan"--a piano trio impersonating a hundred thirsty, charging camels whipping up blinding sandstorms in their wake). Oscar's frequent unaccompanied demonstrations of stride piano--a la James P. Johnson, Fats Waller, and the superlative Tatum--certainly raise the question of why Jarrett bothers to attempt a similar feat in his concerts of late. (Forgotten about is Stanley Cowell, who has elected, for the most part, not to demonstrate his mastery of a difficult style that few can do justice by any more.)
[In the "not to be missed" category: Oscar's 1st encore. He walks off stage, next bass and drums set the fastest tempo humanly possible while somehow managing to keep together, Oscar walks back on stage and joins the pair, then bass and drums drop out leaving the field to a naked Oscar attacking his instrument with ten thousand fingers, finally the threesome reunite for a fantastic finish compared to which Wagner would sound tepid.]
[Speaking of which, Oscar approaches the operatic mode (and his 2nd encore) with Victor Herbert's "Yours Is Mine Heart Alone." The title is just like Oscar--he's all alone. No one like him before, since, or forevermore. (However, based on the evidence here, Ray Brown may have to share the spot with Niels-Henning Orsted.)]
[If jazz DVDs strike your fancy, don't fail to check out Art Blakey and the Jazz Messengers recorded at the Umbria Jazz Festival circa 1975. The scandalously overlooked and even forgotten Bill Hardman, Dave Schnitter, Mickey Tucker, and Cameron Brown launch the music into orbit with a huge assist from the cutting-edge compositions of Walter Davis, Jr.]
Summary of The Berlin Concert
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