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ahmad jamal
are few instrumentalists that get hit records.
Singers, yes. But sometimes we instrumentalists
get a breakthrough. I was one. Those things
change your life forever.”
He sounds grateful. But does he ever tire of
“Poinciana” or resent the way it has stalked him
for the last 50 years “Get tired of ‘Poinciana’”
he replies incredulously. “It’s my thrill and I
love it.” He speaks of it as a source of inspiration
for endless interpretation, no different from
the standard classical repertoire. “As we speak,”
he continues, “symphonies are still programming
Beethoven. [“Poinciana”] is still a baby
compared to that. I don’t get tired of ‘Poinciana’
because it’s still an embryo. Six thousand kids
within a radius of where I live [in western
Massachusetts near the Berkshire Mountains]
are trying to learn Mozart. So why should I get
tired of ‘Poinciana’”
Why, indeed. Its compelling accessibility
drew millions to his music, and on his own
terms. If some take that for pandering, they
will get a polite argument from Jamal. “That’s
the way it’s supposed to be,” he insists. “I think
American classical music [his coinage for what
the world calls “jazz”] is certainly underrated
culturally. This is the area in which we function.
This music is very important and should be able
to reach a lot of ears and not just jazz fans. My
record was on the charts for 108 weeks and certainly
helped build Chess Records.” For that he
sees no cause for apology.
“Poinciana” gave him something even more
important. “I was fortunate,” he says, “that I had
one of the rare contracts in the industry in which
I had control over my music, and I still demand
that when I record. Leonard Chess gave me control
over everything from music to album graphics.
I knew what I wanted to do and didn’t need
anyone to tell me. I know my music better than
anybody. I think one should avoid getting into
the ‘business’ of music.”
When the general public discovered Jamal,
they found a man who didn’t fit the stereotypical
profile of the modern jazz musician. At 30, he
had come to fame with a distinctly unique identity.
He looked almost boyish. To some skeptics,
he was circumspect in his abstention from the
usual vices of the trade. Other listeners inferred
a mystic quality to his marvelous discipline and
dignity.
Jamal remained with Argo and its successor
label, Cadet, well into the ’60s. He then moved
on to projects for Impulse, 20th Century Fox,
Atlantic and others. His profile leveled off as the
jazz world turned the page to new controversies
over the avant-garde, fusion and historicism.
For a while he seemed to fall out of popularity.
But Jamal never stopped playing or recording.
In the last decade or so, he has re-emerged
stronger than ever as a force in jazz.
Some of his recent recordings include A
Quiet Time (2010), It’s Magic (2008), After Fajr
(2005) and In Search Of Momentum (2003).
If you ask him to mark any special favorite
period in the long arc of his career, he goes back
to the beginning. “I look back on the history of
my coming up years in Pittsburgh,” he says and
reels off a diverse list of its sons and daughters.
“A very important place for musicians. I used
to sell newspapers to Billy Strayhorn’s family
when I was seven. There was Ray Brown, Art
Blakey, Kenny Clarke, Stanley Turrentine, Billy
Eckstine—nobody better than Billy. Maxine
Sullivan, Earl Hines, Roy Eldridge, Earl Wild,
the exponent of Liszt. And a little tap dancer
named Gene Kelly. And don’t forget Erroll
Garner.” Jamal talks about being a classmate
of singer Dakota Stanton at Westinghouse High
School in the mid-’40s. “And by the way,” he
adds, “George Benson, one of the newer crop
from Pittsburgh.”
His early keyboard models were Garner,
Teddy Wilson, Art Tatum and Nat “King”
Cole. “You always have models and you imitate
them,” he says. “But the thing about Pittsburgh
is you eventually come into your own.”
Coming from such a place also made Jamal
conscious of the tradition he aspired to join. I
asked for a memorable moment and again he
reached back before fame delivered him to a
wide public. “Yes,” he said without hesitation.
38 DOWNBEAT DECEMBER 2011