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Dick Hyman
Subjective
& Personal
By Aaron Cohen // Photo by Jack Vartoogian/FrontRowPhotos
It takes a certain amount of confidence, or nerve, to attach
possessive punctuation to a hundred years of an instrument’s
evolution. But sometimes that apostrophe mark belongs there
because the musician in front of it has not just lived through,
but played a part in, those 10 decades of changes. That would
be the case with the five-CD/one-DVD survey Dick Hyman’s
Century Of Jazz Piano (Arbors).
The collection (originally released on
CD-ROM in 1997) is Hyman’s admittedly subjective
and personal survey of jazz piano history.
That “personal” encompasses a lot. Throughout
the musical and video lessons, Hyman demonstrates
ragtime’s syncopation and boogie-woogie’s
loping octaves, describes how he believes
Thelonious Monk’s compositions should work
as improvisational vehicles and addresses Cecil
Taylor’s rapid percussive attack. All of which
provides only a few glimpses into Hyman’s own
multifaceted career and why, at 84, he continues
to inspire generations of proteges.
“I’ve never had a greater teacher than him,
and he continues to teach me,” said pianist Bill
Charlap. “Most importantly, his beautiful touch,
and very unique and individual harmonic perspective.
Dick’s in his eighties, practices every
day and sounds great. His lust for music never
diminishes. He never sits back on his laurels; he’s
always discovering and doing something new.”
That desire is why Hyman continues to perform
and write so energetically. It’s also why his
earlier works are still sought. He plays around
his Florida home for the most part, but occasionally
returns to the New York club scene,
where he took part in jazz’s biggest changes of
the 1940s during his off hours as a busy session
musician. His wide interests are also why he
has distinctive followings that don’t even know
of the other camp’s existence: Hyman’s lively
and impeccable presentation of early stride
and proto-swing styles has made him an honored
guest at such historic-minded events as the
Bix Beiderbecke Festival in Davenport, Iowa.
This summer, he presented new classical chamber
music scores that reshaped one of his earlier
compositions. At the same time, DJs and electronic
music mavens have been scouring Ebay
and other crate-diggers’ outlets for his innovative,
sometimes intentionally funny, synthesizer
recordings of the 1960s. Cinephiles are also
familiar with his name, which appeared on dozens
of movie scores during the ’80s and ’90s.
Even with this still-active career, Hyman
isn’t given to introspection or expounding too
much on any wider, deeper meaning of his
music. As the Century project shows, he’s more
given to direct explanations of how the music
works. But, when prodded, Hyman will give a
simple reason for his continued determination.
“I have to keep explaining to my retired
friends down here, you don’t stop doing
this,” Hyman said a few months before the
Beiderbecke festival in August. “You keep doing
it until you can’t do it anymore.”
Or, as Hyman shows, just keep building on
what began in the late-’40s. Coming from a musical
family, he was a humanities major at Columbia
University and after a stint in the Navy took some
classes outside of college with his uncle, Anton
Rovinsky, a classical recitalist. “He began to show
me the subtleties of expression and composition
in the Beethoven sonatas—that stayed with me,”
Hyman said. “Matters of touch. Things a good
teacher would show you, not just running through
and memorizing pieces, but how they work and
how to make them sound well.”
But it was 12 lessons he won after entering a
radio contest that made as much of an impact.
Teddy Wilson was the first-prize teacher. (With
uncanny memory, Hyman added that if he had
come in second place, then he would have studied
with Mary Lou Williams.)
“Teddy was a lovely man, very generous, and
he gave me my complete philosophy,” Hyman
recalled. “I said, ‘I really play OK sometimes,
and other times I feel I’m not making it at all,
36 DOWNBEAT SEPTEMBER 2011