Review of “Chick Corea Plays”
This solo piano album was released in September 2020. I’ve returned to it since learning of Chick Corea’s death on February 9, as I’m sure many people have. Now a powerful sense of loss lies between Corea’s crystalline phrases, like the black keys on a piano.
This two-disc CD set collects various recent live solo performances (frustratingly unspecified by place or date). The range of material epitomizes the genre-free essence of late Corea: there is Mozart, Gershwin, Bill Evans, Jobim, Scarlatti, Monk, Chopin, Stevie Wonder, and Corea’s own compositions. All are bristling with the pianist’s bright, clearly articulated touch. Even the ballads sparkle with wit, enthusiasm, and intention.
I’ll just select one section of the program for comment. Corea invites two people up from the audience to improvise their musical portraits. It’s easy to imagine them blushing under the lights while Corea searches their eyes and plays what he sees inside. “Henrietta” is given a graceful, free-flowing waltz, with fragments of melody from a half-remembered show tune. “Chris” is portrayed by a typewriter rhythm and flashes of a Cecil Taylor-like attack up the keyboard.
Then Corea invites two strangers from the audience to share the keyboard with him (tapes rolling for Concord). “Yaron” has clearly studied Corea, and soon it’s impossible to tell them apart. “Charles” and Corea listen to one another carefully, stopping and starting together and pushing one another into freer explorations.
Can you imagine Keith Jarrett doing such a thing, respecting not just the presence of his audience but also the equality of their musicality? Imagine the gift that Corea gave to Henrietta, Chris, Yaron, and Charles. Imagine if it had been you. Plays is a magnificent final gift to us all.
(Originally published on the Arts Fuse, April 9, 2021)
