What does it sound like?:
Keith Jarrett is the pre-eminent solo piano performer of his generation. His Köln Concert is legendary, a remarkable improvisation, despite, or because of, a dodgy piano. It’s one of the best selling jazz albums of all time, shifting over four million copies. He has released many solo piano recordings before and since. His first was in 1972, Facing You, the product of spending a day in an Oslo studio bunking off from The Miles Davis Septet. New Vienna is his twenty-fifth, most captured live. In addition, there are another four solo multi instrument LPs. Jarrett clearly enjoyed playing alone, expressing himself through his fingers, just him and his instrument.
The Köln Concert was recorded in 1975, when his performances were characterised by emotional intensity and physical energy. Twenty years later, he contracted Chronic Fatigue Syndrome and was forced to change his style. He had to play with greater economy and focus more on the beating heart of his artistry with fewer dramatic flourishes. He resprung the keys on his piano so that they flowed more smoothly, requiring significantly less initial pressure to get through the so-called breakaway, like piercing the surface tension of water. He also changed the hammers on the strings. The New Vienna concert took place a further twenty years on in 2016, during an eight date USA/European tour. He was seventy-one, a very different Keith Jarrett from 1975, but he’d regained his passion for music, much of his energy and the free-flowing dexterity of his fingers. He never lost any of his creativity and ability to improvise. New Vienna is the fourth recording from that tour to be released following Munich, Budapest and Bordeaux. A previous Vienna Concert was issued in 1992, recorded at the Opera House, hence “New” Vienna. Comparing and contrasting the four from 2016 provides some interesting insights into Jarrett’s creative process. As he sits down onto his stool, does he have a plan?
The answer seems to be that he has a mere ghost of a sketch but a clear starting point. Part I is a palate cleanser of atonal dissonance, as though he is checking the piano is correctly positioned and that all 52 white and 36 black keys have the same breakaway and are tuned to the notes he expects as he strikes them randomly and rapidly. The audience are so awestruck, for a moment, they forget to applaud. They should count themselves lucky. This Part I is shorter than the other concerts’, though similarly disturbing. He then adjusts to the acoustics of the setting and the warmth of the paying public, whose enthusiasm increases as the concert proceeds. Part II is as grand and opulent as the Goldener Saal, Musikverein, the home of the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra, where he is playing. Jarrett would have been more than aware that the venue witnessed the reshaping of classical music by Schoenberg, Berg and Webern. Then, he draws on his deep well of tunes, rhythms, traditions, styles, techniques buried in his bones, dating back many decades. He has one foot in the freedom of black American jazz and the other in the discipline of white European classical. Part III features a brooding left hand and an agitated right. Part VI is a crooked walk up and down scales. This time, there isn’t as much blues nor funk, though Part VIII is a cheery sojourn into Ragtime and Part IX has a hint of jaunty swing. However, the beauty of the Golden Hall inspires reverent gospel tones, hushed lullabies and broken love songs. His touch on the slower pieces is sublime. His extemporisations conjure up sweet melodies from the rarefied air. Part IV is a heart-melting ballad, Part V a quiet rhapsody and Part VII a romantic epic. These three pieces are the core of New Vienna, tender and uplifting, each note floating in its own personal space.
The finale of Somewhere Over The Rainbow, a song often associated with grief, is delivered as if Jarrett is inviting his audience to contemplate silence. He manages, just about, to retain a kernel of hope but it’s difficult to listen to without a tear in the eye. Although he didn’t realise it at the time, the clock was ticking on his career. He performed just the once more in February 2017, at his beloved Carnegie Hall, before two strokes brought the curtain down. In that context New Vienna and Somewhere Over The Rainbow has extra poignancy, a man bearing the scars of many decades of touring, still exploring, still trying to find something new, searching for a way of saying things differently, moulding all his troubles and woes, triumphs and joys into something exquisitely beautiful. Then, in an instant, it was over.
What does it all *mean*?
Does the world need another Jarrett solo piano album? Of course it does. Jarrett solo is always fascinating. New Vienna is never going to match Köln for popularity and sales but it has a deft emotional power that is unexpected and affective.
Goes well with…
Viewers of the TV show The Piano should listen to this to hear how it’s done.
Release Date:
30th May 2025
Might suit people who like…
Spotify has a Keith Jarrett solo piano playlist that is over 46 hours long. No doubt the remaining European date of 2016, Rome, will be added soon enough.
Part V
I’ll stream this one. I own more than enough Jarrett of every flavour to need anymore. I suspect ECM have a lot of KJ in the vaults which they will drip feed into the marketplace piece by piece. Only to be expected and welcome if the quality doesn’t get harmed by barrel scraping.
Somewhere Over the Rainbow – playing on BBC R3 right now!
Edith: not one of my favourite tunes, tbh – but I can hear what Tiggs is describing, regarding the emotional content.
This means nothing to me…
Oh dear 😞
Sorry, sometimes ‘Ure’ just too tempted.
That’s a smidge worse.
I know. It’s Lamentable.