I suddenly noticed I recently changed my listening habits – i.e. from someway feverish changing records and music genres, randomly into a more relaxed, focused and self-conscious mood…
I recently completed the listening to the whole Stephan Micus’ catalogue, one after one after one, one a day… amazing experience I had, folks…
Yesterday, dedicated my attention to another artist: Keith Jarrett.
I own dozens of KJ recordings and maybe beginning from Facing You or even older recordings would have been wiser, yet I decided to begin from most recent ones backward.
I handled the cool 3-disks set of Paris/London – Testament on ECM, of course.
The above mentioned disk booklet and liner notes gives an in-deep insight into both the man and the artist, a fragile, often naked, sincere individual who - to reach the extreme relaxation needed to afford his improvised tour-de-force concerts – needs a sum of conditions, friendly cohort, prescriptions to makes the music flowing.
Keith Jarrett talks and share this and more: personal eveniences like his wives names and leaving, his sadness and fragility, the tears after a concert, while bowing to the audience, his chemical connection with audience able to make a superb or just good concert.
His love for Japanese audience, so religiously silent and respectful of the effort and energies involved in these total happenings.
Me and many others hated him…
After reading the a.m. Paris/London Testament 3-disks set I better, much better understood his uniqueness and deep involvement into his - I dare - mission, even better than after reading his superb biography, a long interview with Kinihiko Yamashita of (not by chance...) JazzLife - Japan, titled "Inner Views" (also if I love italian title “Il mio Desiderio Feroce”).
It’s like a gifted musician be himself, firsthand, surprised by the complexity of music flowing, always different, from his mind and fingers to the listener… he’s sure afraid and worried about eventually loosing The Gift, yet he cannot do nothing but rehearsing for hands dexterity and keeping his mind clean and quiet.
He really must protect his art and playing skills, ferociously, also.
Only at these conditions, after, as he points it out, 60+ years of music, something happens while seated at the grand-piano… puffing and sweating and humming and playing like in a trance.
I listened to the three disks in a row – i.e. Salle Pleyel in Paris, first, then Royal Albert Hall in London… I read the liner notes, his confessions and feelings… and the music hitted me so deeply and intensely with its beauty.
Other adjectives could sound redundant… beauty is beauty, as universal as it can be.
No hypes needed, at all…
I feel that – these days – I couldn’t be less interested in audio, while I couldn’t be more into music as a total experience involving mind and body.
Imagine a chef… how many times is he talking about ovens and the like… ingredients, raw veggies and assorted are his world, but, even more, always, the dish - its aesthetic appearance and taste - is the goal.
I’ll never, ever waste my (precious) time left talking about “ovens”… music is soooo vastly much more important than audio gears to reproduce it, as it’s sharing it around.
My testament, as well?