March 27, 1950—The Cleveland Music Hall, long a Midwestern mainstay on the classical music circuit, hosted an artist entirely different from its usual restrained fare: Erroll Garner, a jazz pianist-composer who compensated for an inability to read music with an uncanny ear, a stunning aural memory, and an infectiously joyful improvisational style.
Later in the decade, Garner became the first jazz artist represented by Sol Hurok since the classical impresario had booked Benny Goodman in Carnegie Hall before WWII.
Every artist—heck, every person—should have a champion, someone who will beat the drums incessantly for you, or go to bat if, in effect, you can't. Garner’s champion was his longtime manager and executor of his estate, Martha Glaser, who not only helped secure him the booking at the prestigious Cleveland venue, but who, five decades later, sharply (and, in my opinion, rightly) upbraided Ken Burns for omitting him from the epic public-television history Jazz.
Burns’ contention that Garner wasn’t a “seminal innovator” is questionable. What isn’t is Garner’s personality. The warmth and good humor that poured from his keys accurately reflected his demeanor. (You can also sense this in the image accompanying this post.)
If Burns (and, presumably, at least some of the consultants for his series) were not too high on Garner, the overwhelming majority of his fellow musicians didn’t make the same mistake. One such musician, Art Blakey, had, like his fellow resident of The Hill section of Pittsburgh, taken up the piano.
That is, until Garner completely outclassed him at the instrument one night, and the owner of the hall strongly urged Blakey to turn to the drums—which he did.
Like many jazz musicians, Garner died far too young—in this case, at age 55, from lung cancer—but in addition to his many reworkings of jazz standards, he also composed 200 songs of his own in his truncated career, including “Misty.” You might have heard Jane Monheit bring her rich, creamy vocal delivery to the tune, but decades ago people became most familiar with it on the small and big screen.
Throughout most of the Sixties, listeners of the Today Show awoke to the strains of this lushly romantic jazz instrumental. When the producers switched to a different one in the early 1970s, composer Ray Ellis’ “This Is Today,” they might have wished they hadn’t. Someone noticed that it sounded a lot like the Godspell hit “Day by Day,” and sued for copyright infringement.
Around the same time “Misty” was fading from the TV picture, it gained new prominence in Clint Eastwood’s film, Play Misty for Me. The director who, over the last four decades, has probably done more than any other to employ jazz themes in his films, found an evocative artist in the first movie he helmed that had a contemporary setting.
Like many fans, I came to Garner through his 1956 recording, Concert by the Sea, where I became intoxicated by his “four-in-the-bar” left-hand technique and introductions that turned the basic melodies inside out. I've bought several other CDs of his work since, and they all leave me convinced that his departure from the music scene left a gaping hole unable to be filled.
Later in the decade, Garner became the first jazz artist represented by Sol Hurok since the classical impresario had booked Benny Goodman in Carnegie Hall before WWII.
Every artist—heck, every person—should have a champion, someone who will beat the drums incessantly for you, or go to bat if, in effect, you can't. Garner’s champion was his longtime manager and executor of his estate, Martha Glaser, who not only helped secure him the booking at the prestigious Cleveland venue, but who, five decades later, sharply (and, in my opinion, rightly) upbraided Ken Burns for omitting him from the epic public-television history Jazz.
Burns’ contention that Garner wasn’t a “seminal innovator” is questionable. What isn’t is Garner’s personality. The warmth and good humor that poured from his keys accurately reflected his demeanor. (You can also sense this in the image accompanying this post.)
If Burns (and, presumably, at least some of the consultants for his series) were not too high on Garner, the overwhelming majority of his fellow musicians didn’t make the same mistake. One such musician, Art Blakey, had, like his fellow resident of The Hill section of Pittsburgh, taken up the piano.
That is, until Garner completely outclassed him at the instrument one night, and the owner of the hall strongly urged Blakey to turn to the drums—which he did.
Like many jazz musicians, Garner died far too young—in this case, at age 55, from lung cancer—but in addition to his many reworkings of jazz standards, he also composed 200 songs of his own in his truncated career, including “Misty.” You might have heard Jane Monheit bring her rich, creamy vocal delivery to the tune, but decades ago people became most familiar with it on the small and big screen.
Throughout most of the Sixties, listeners of the Today Show awoke to the strains of this lushly romantic jazz instrumental. When the producers switched to a different one in the early 1970s, composer Ray Ellis’ “This Is Today,” they might have wished they hadn’t. Someone noticed that it sounded a lot like the Godspell hit “Day by Day,” and sued for copyright infringement.
Around the same time “Misty” was fading from the TV picture, it gained new prominence in Clint Eastwood’s film, Play Misty for Me. The director who, over the last four decades, has probably done more than any other to employ jazz themes in his films, found an evocative artist in the first movie he helmed that had a contemporary setting.
Like many fans, I came to Garner through his 1956 recording, Concert by the Sea, where I became intoxicated by his “four-in-the-bar” left-hand technique and introductions that turned the basic melodies inside out. I've bought several other CDs of his work since, and they all leave me convinced that his departure from the music scene left a gaping hole unable to be filled.
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