Barry Harris |
If you’ve ever hung out at the Dirty Dog Jazz Café
after a show there, you likely overheard a musician complain about the house piano. Listening to world-class
jazz pianists Johnny O’Neal, Charles Boles, Gerald Clayton, Aaron Diehl, Claude
Black, and Cliff Monear played the house piano. It would've been impossible for a layman to tell it needed tuning. Those guys could make a toy piano sound amazing.
The
owner of the Dirty Dog, Gretchen Carhartt Valade, must have gotten wind of the
complaining. Recently, she bought a 7’ Steinway piano and flew in one of the
greatest bebop pianists, of all-times, Barry Harris, to christen it.
Harris,
83, is a native Detroiter. During the 50’s his Detroit home was sort of a bebop
training ground where he schooled then newcomers jazz musicians like Donald
Walden, Charles McPherson, Lonnie Hillyer, Teddy Harris, and many others.
In 1960, Harris moved to New York, joined Julian
“Cannonball” Adderly’s band, made some great bebop albums for Riverside Records
like Barry Harris at the Jazz Workshop, Preminado and Chasin’ the Bird, and over time grew into an internationally sought
after performer and jazz educator. To this very day, he remains such.
At
the Dirty Dog, Tuesday evening, people paid $50.00, a steep cover charge for one set of music.
But the people are ultra Barry Harris fans. If asked to donate a kidney to
hear Harris live, in all likelihood they would have obliged.
As customary, Harris played oldies like “Tea for Two,” “All God Children’s Got
Shoes,” “Ruby My Dear” plus songs by his idols
Bud Powell, Duke Ellington and Billy Strayhorn. Amazingly, the concert never felt like a ceremony.
Harris chatted with old friends, well-wishers
and the media before the concert began. The Detroit Free Press jazz critic Mark
Stryker, radio personalities Judy Adams and John Penny, and the Detroit Jazz
Festival’s Artistic Director Chris Collins were in the house.
Gretchen Carhartt Valade sat at the bar next
to Tom Robinson the CEO of Mack Avenue Records. Occasionally, Valade cheered Harris on, whistling as if she was court side at a Detroit Pistons game. Photographer
John Osler, whose excellent book “Detroit Jazz Documenting the Legacy of
Gretchen Valade” was recently released, snapped photos of the concert. Harris,
obviously, was elated to be home. It showed in his performance
At 7:00pm sharp, the house lights dimmed. Harris sat
at the Steinway. He bounded with it right away, handling it attentively and
lovingly like a first date. He opened the concert with a fly take on
Staryhorn’s “Lotus Blossom,” followed by George Shearing’s “She”.
Then Harris introduced his longtime band-mates drummer Leroy Williams and bassist Ray Drummond. Harris tied the subsequent songs on his set list with a story about a make-believe married couple Judy and George who started out madly in love but after making nine kids ended up divorced.
Then Harris introduced his longtime band-mates drummer Leroy Williams and bassist Ray Drummond. Harris tied the subsequent songs on his set list with a story about a make-believe married couple Judy and George who started out madly in love but after making nine kids ended up divorced.
Harris been working such antics
into his concerts for decades. At times, last night’s concert felt like a vaudeville show, especially
when he made up the song “7,5,2, Dirty Dog” on the spot. He's a showman. Though he's up there in age, his playing is still vibrant, lucid and beautiful.
Near the end of the concert, he played an Ellington medley. Then Harris finally spoke about the significance of the christening—or as he put it—blessing the Steinway. Harris has a closet filled with honors. It was the first time he was invited to christen a piano. He he performed as if it was the highest honor he's received.
Near the end of the concert, he played an Ellington medley. Then Harris finally spoke about the significance of the christening—or as he put it—blessing the Steinway. Harris has a closet filled with honors. It was the first time he was invited to christen a piano. He he performed as if it was the highest honor he's received.