Pantagruel's Full Review: Piano Starts Here by Art Tatum
In March of 1933 at a little recording studio in New York, a nearly blind pianist named Art Tatum laid down the first four tracks that would unleash one of the greatest talents in the history of jazz. Thus begins Piano Starts Here, a fascinating showcase of this jazz virtuoso. It was more than hype when the faithful cried out “God is in the house!” wherever Tatum played, for he has been described as the greatest jazz soloist ever, on any instrument. One listen will convince you that his piano playing is simply gorgeous and that he was truly talented.
The one track that really blew everybody’s mind at the time was “Tiger Rag.” It is a monumental piece that starts out slowly and then proceeds at full gallop for the next two minutes. Tatum moves flawlessly through the piano register and sounds so vibrant that more than one jazz aficionado mistakenly believed it was a duo.
Nearly as impressive as “Tiger Rag” is the song that kicks off the album, Victor Youman’s “Tea for Two.” Here Tatum plays the first verse straight, allowing the melody to sink in, before becoming more and more adventurous as the song progresses. While his left hand strides through the chorus, his right hand dashes through several variations.
Rounding out the session are two tributes to jazz greats. Tatum treats both W.C. Handy’s “St. Louis Blues” and Duke Ellington’s elegant “Sophisticated Lady” with grace and care. Improvisations are kept to a minimum as Tatum instead busies himself with discovering the pleasures inherent in each melody.
The question that leapt to my mind when I listened to Tatum for the first time was: How could just one person sound like that? Well, when he was teaching himself how to play piano, he practiced off of piano rolls for duet. That’s why his left and right hand playing is so active, because he learned to play both parts together. Fats Waller proved to be an early influence on his unique style, but Tatum surpassed Fats in the wealth of ideas that sprang from his fingertips.
The rest of the album is from a solo concert given at the Shrine Auditorium in Los Angeles in 1949. The significance of live Tatum material is not to be overlooked as he rarely played concerts. Somewhat surprisingly, the sound quality is not as good as the session he recorded 16 years earlier. However, it isn’t enough of a distraction to prevent the listener from enjoying a variety of Tatum’s repertoire. There are the usual show tunes (including two from his friend George Gershwin), an original boogie, an old Irish ditty (!), and a piece by Dvorak, which, considering Dvorak’s fondness for jazz, seems like a logical choice.
“How High the Moon” opens the concert part of the album. Like the earlier songs, Tatum starts out slowly, caressing the melody and drawing the listener in before exploding with a unique interpretation. He first bounces the melody along while adding crisp rolls to the verse. But then he starts pounding the notes out a la Thelonious Monk. I compared this version with the Capitol Records recording he made later that year and, though he arranged it the same way, the concert version contained much more frenetic energy.
Another thing to bear in mind about Art Tatum. Even though he plays like nobody else before or after him, quick and carefree as if at any moment his fingers will lock into place and render his giant hands into two lobster claws, he never, ever loses control. He has perfect timing. Not a note goes to waste.
The Dvorak piece, “Humoresque,” shows Tatum perfectly capable of interpreting classical music. He first studied classical before the allure of the jazz sound changed his career path. Indeed, among his admirers was the great classical performer Vladimir Horowitz, who proclaimed Tatum the greatest pianist in any genre.
He takes “Willow Weep for Me” at a more relaxed pace. On this slow blues number, he really digs deep into it and lets the music unfold naturally, sprinkling it with an occasional teardrop from his keys.
As you can tell from the song selection, Tatum was an interpreter and not a composer. “Tatum Pole Boogie” is his sole composition on the album and he plays it like he is having the time of his life. As his left hand keeps the rhythm, his right hand hovers over the piano and peppers the beat.
The album, and presumably the concert, closes with Gershwin’s “The Man I Love.” Like the other Gershwin number, “Someone to Watch Over Me,” Tatum tosses in a few ideas but otherwise remains true to the melody. Gershwin was one of his most vocal supporters back when the young Tatum was trying to gain respectability, and Tatum repays him by lovingly exploring each tune.
Unfortunately, during his lifetime Art Tatum was never afforded the accolades that lesser jazz players received. Part of the problem may have been his inaccessibility. He did not sing at the piano like Fats Waller, and he lacked the charisma of Louis Armstrong, to name two of his contemporaries. What he did was play the most beautiful, moving piano that I have ever heard. Everything this man recorded demands to be heard.
Epinions.com periodically updates pricing and product information from third-party sources, so some information may be slightly out-of-date. You should confirm all information before relying on it.