The Oscar Peterson Trio - Canadiana Suite
Canadiana Suite is one of the great albums by the Oscar Peterson Trio and it's also one of the most unusual. For starters, it features not only original compositions by Peterson, who is not known for his compositional skills, but is linked by a common theme and melded into a suite. Granted many, if not most, of Peterson's albums were linked by a theme, but this is one is unusual that pays tribute to his native Canada. This is one of the last albums featuring his classic trio with Ray Brown on bass and Ed Thigpen on drums and their performances, individually and collectively, is really astonishing.
Each composition of the suite is arranged as tone poems of various provinces/lands of the country and starts with "Ballad to the East". On this tune, and particularly the rubato intro, Peterson shows off his thoughtful, sentimental side. His use of impressionist-type voicings conveys a powerful mood and is evocative of spaces in Maritime Islands. During moments such as these when he's letting his note ring out, his touch comes through clearly and echoes of Nat King Cole and Teddy Wilson really ring through. But when he plays rubato, those rolling chords remind me a little of Bill Evans.
At the time this was recorded in 1964, Peterson must have been the most well-known, if not the most visible, Canadian jazz musician. I attended university in Canada (they differentiate between college and university), so I have an affinity towards things Canadian. Like everywhere else in the world, there have always been a thriving jazz scene in its larger cities and some of the more well-known Canadian jazz musicians include Gil Evans, Kenny Wheeler (by way of the U.K), Paul Bley, Maynard Ferguson, Diana Krall, Ingrid Jensen, Renee Rosnes, Holly Cole, and Kris Davis. Interesting that a number of women from Canada have been frequently visible on the (inter)national scene. Maybe it's because of my connection to Canada, but there is a large contingency of jazz musicians in New York that are originally from Canada. Canada has always been dwarfed by the United States and Americans I feel are generally ignorant of the country. At least these were my thoughts during the pre-internet age and when this came out in 1964, Canada might as well have been Uganda!
1968 U.K. Cover |
"Laurentides Waltz" refers to the mountains in Quebec and this tune really sounds like Peterson doing his Bill Evans impersonation. Besides being a waltz, this tune features a simple melody (like "Waltz for Debby"), a pedal ("How My Heart Sings") and the cycle of fifths (take your pick of Evans tunes!), all of which seem to point more towards Evans. Even Ray Brown throws in a few Scott LaFaro bass licks here and there in the beginning. In general, Brown's two-feel (in this case one- feel) is active with plenty of fills---on this he maintains the one- feel throughout the performance and ends up responding and even challenging some of Peterson's lines. Brown will never be as hyper-assertive and aggressive as LaFaro, but it's there. His bass solo though is all him with some nice two beat phrases against the three.
"Place St. Henri" is uptempo and sounds like a classic Peterson arrangement filled with ensemble hits and breaks and played with enthusiasm and energy. The second half of the chord progression features a repeated chord progression more common to gospel and adds to the rambunctious mood of the song. This tune refers to a neighborhood in Montreal close to where Peterson grew up. There is a brief solo from Peterson, but it's a treat to hear Brown solo on an uptempo number (he usually improvises on slow medium tunes) and a drum solo from Thigpen with background hits. One thing about Peterson's writing style is that the arrangement is as much a part of the composition. On tunes like "Place St. Henri" with numerous hits, he consistently plays the same arrangement on the out head as he did on the in head. But I noticed on this album that he does this with the ballads as well.
"Hogtown Blues" is a mellower blues with numerous passing and substitute chords added by Peterson. He has always tended towards the extremes: either keeping it minimal or adding the maximum amount of chords and notes possible! After the head, the solos are swinging and the regular twelve-bar blues progression is reinstated. This is a common and effective trait of the trio. It's a slow, triplet-y blues and the piano solo is down-home and bluesy. While Peterson has strong command of the jazz vocabulary, he never neglects the blues. He used it to convey a positive mood that made swing enjoyable and was a highly successful formula . He was criticized for showboating his chops, but they are considerable. He is one of the only pianists to really follow the standard set by Art Tatum, fashioning those decorative arpeggios and scalar runs into full-fledged lines.
The theme to "Blues of the Prairie" is a simple call and response theme between his hands. Featuring a triplet-y bass line that reminds me of Duke Ellington, the melody, like all of his tune, is pretty simple. He tends to write simple ballads, swing tunes with decorated arrangements, and riff-type tunes. This is the latter type. Although this the second blues in a row, Peterson's solo is remarkably different, making considerably use of double time. Brown's solo is excellent and is typically bluesy.
"Wheatlands" makes use of rolling chords, a straight eighth-note feel, and some chord progressions typical of the era. The twenty-four bar theme is played twice in the beginning before reverting to swing for the solos. Another of Peterson's solo formula is here, beginning quietly in the upper register before building to a rousing climax. I don't mean to boil down his solos into formula, but he did rely on them. Unfortunately they are rather cliché today. Brown plays nice fills behind Peterson's solo before taking two wonderful choruses. It's his best playing on record.
The liner notes were written by another Canadian, jazz writer and critic Gene Lees. Of "March Past", he says that it "describes the parade that precedes the Calgary Stampede". The melody is repetitive and simple and reminiscent of the types of tunes played in the Swing Era. The last tune "Land of the Mighty Giants" is a tone poem of the Canadian Rocky Mountains. It's appropriately majestic theme is sensitively played and is similar in nature to the first two tunes on this album.
In essence, Peterson is a pianist with Swing Era principles. He has incorporated some of the bebop harmonies (like chromatically descending dominants from the root, a favorite), but he is not as harmonically crafty. While his compositions include some atypical harmonic movement, his language is essentially the blues and he's not really a risk-taker, relying on lightening fast licks and ideas. It's not that he doesn't play dissonant chords, he just does it with so much grace. Diminished and altered chords just sound lovely because of his touch. When Ellington voices these chords in his trombones or ensemble sections, they're made to sound biting. Not that Peterson's approach was a bad thing, but something about the artistic notions of bebop involved making the audience think about the music that was being played. This is not Peterson's philosophy of making music: he enjoyed dazzling audiences and at heart was an entertainer. These are principles that govern the musician of the Swing Era more than the bebop era. Perhaps this is why he was criticized at the time, for pandering to his audiences in this way, especially during the Civil Rights era. Perhaps he was a type of advanced Uncle Tom in music which did not glamorize his smiling face, but instead showcased his harmonically and melodically consonant music that was hidden behind his touch and his monumental virtuosity. Perhaps he was more symbolical of an earlier era when African Americans were more subservient and servantile. Either way, we can't dismiss his music or his chops.
Comments
Post a Comment