"Bud was totally immersed in music -- his one constant reality. Even when there was no instrument available, he could hear the sounds. Once when a friend visited him in hospital, Bud sketched piano keys on the wall. 'Listen, what do you think of these chords,' he asked while he banged his fingers against the drawing."
This anecdote which is narrated by the deep voice of David W. Niven is the essence of Bud Powell, the subject of this new post. And also this post happens to be the 400th on Take the "A" Train, so in a sense you may call it a celebration too.
The plan is to study Bud Powell though the tapes of archivist David Niven. Please note that a few seconds of silence exists between the end of side A of each tape and the beginning of side B. The side reversal happens automatically for each tape.
I've already posted Bud-related materials here, including a note on a Danish film about the pianist, and a handful of interviews. For completion sake, be aware of the seminal Bud Powell book, Wail: The Life of Bud Powell by Peter Pullman which is described by its author as an "unsentimental biography—not hagiography—of a major jazz artist." Pullman continues: "It’s based as much on an exhaustive look at the public record and press on Powell, as it is on eyewitness accounts of his live performances and on personal opinions of his private life—in addition to subjective assessments of his studio recordings. The book treats all of these accounts as so many pathways to understanding the central paradox of the musically explosive yet emotionally impassive Powell: How could he have played with such rhythmic euphoria (and romantic feeling!) and, yet, seldom if ever have allowed anyone to see the physical and psychic pain that he was often enduring?"
For ordering the paper edition of Bud Powell book, email the author directly at pullman_peter[at]yahoo.com.
This crash course features some 500 minutes of Powell's romantic agony (i.e. music), and as it has been the case with great art, his pain will be your incalculable pleasure.
