[Update: Since I began to write this, Ethan Iverson has posted this awesome comprehensive post on Johnson, which is quite amazing!  I am going to continue with this one however, and focus primarily on the relationship between Johnson, Morton, and Waller, and hope that it's not completely irrelevant in light of Iverson's post...]

As with the Morton post, I am going to refrain from attempting to comprehensively address the playing of Johnson and Waller in this post, though I am tempted to try.  Instead, I am going to focus on a few examples of solo playing from each in an effort to illuminate some important aspects of the Harlem Stride Piano school and contrast it with Morton’s take on early jazz, as well as demonstrating Johnson’s strong influence on Waller’s playing and a examining Waller outside of his very entertaining role as vocalist and bandleader which often overshadows his excellent pianism.

James P. Johnson was born in 1894 and in his youth was a well-regarded ragtime pianist.  As he developed as a musician, he began to compose his own music in a ragtime style and introduce other elements to create his own unique brand of early jazz.  Being in New Jersey and New York, rather than New Orleans, his set of musical influences was significantly different from that of Morton’s and was also separated from the original “melting pot” taking place down there.  In an interesting way, I believe this resulted in a style that, while lacking the raw laid-back swing of much of the early music coming out of New Orleans, made up for it with a distinctive clean and polished sound that was equally exciting and impressive.

Let’s take his original 1921 recording of Carolina Shout, one of his most famous compositions (next to the Charleston), and examine the unique way Johnson, in his early years, moved beyond ragtime as a composer and a performer (click to listen):

James P. Johnson – Carolina Shout (1921)

As with many of the Morton pieces, we have a multiple-strain scheme, though in this piece it definitely retains a more ragtime-esque scheme, with four strains, and a return to the third after the fourth which one sees frequently in Joplin.  Although this does not have the almost automatic climax-building effect that we saw in Morton’s “King Porter Stomp,” it is still quite effective in this piece, and its effectiveness is strongly highlighted by the performance.

In many ways, it seems to me that Johnson’s strengths as a performer play a slightly more important role in his overall musicianship than in Morton’s case.  Though Johnson’s compositions were clearly innovative in many ways, the overall drive of his playing is often achieved through the ways in which he varies and embellishes the compositions in performance.  Now, I have no misconceptions about these variations and embellishments being anything less than worked out in advance, and as such I suppose one could call them “pre-composed,” but I think that making a distinction between the composed framework and the unwritten varitions on and versions of a piece highlights one of the most important facets of Harlem Stride.   As Ethan Iverson pointed out in his post on Johnson, Johnson’s sheet music of “Carolina Shout” hardly resembles the piece he performed, and his own performances of it varied quite significantly throughout his career.  Though this was also clearly the case with Morton, the differences between the three versions of “King Porter Stomp” that I posted here are more due to changes in Morton’s style throughout the years, rather than substantial changes in the melodies or content of the strains.

Let’s take a somewhat later Johnson solo, from 1930, of his piece “You’ve Got To Be Modernistic,” and check out some specific components of the Harlem Stride style that Johnson pioneered (click to listen):

James P Johnson – You’ve Got To Be Modernistic (1930)

Certainly the 8th notes here are significantly more “straight” than those of Morton, and the overall feel is generally more stacatto.  The harmony is somewhat advanced, particularly in the first two strains, which I suppose are the “modernistic” section, where he uses some descending chromatic figures and whole-tone scales to create dissonances which were considered “modern” at the time – there are many examples of this, one of the most intriguing of which is Bix Beiderbecke’s famous piano solo “In A Mist” – more on that at another time.

Interestingly, as I’ve just gone on about the differences between “Carolina Shout” and “King Porter Stomp” above, we now have an example of a Johnson piece following Morton’s scheme of a powerful third strain that builds with variations all the way to the end.  So much for generalization!  Nonetheless, the ways in which Johnson varies the third strain are far more piano-oriented than Morton’s band-oriented piano playing.  His two hands play significantly more separate roles than in Morton’s playing, and we hear many examples of the kind of right-hand upper-register syncopated passages stemming from the ragtime tradition that became a notable facet of this style of stride piano.  Also, some of Johnson’s trademark repeated-eighth-note octaves and chords, both in the left and right hands, appear in this piece.  This was one of his favorite ways of varying a passage or strain, and really creates a powerful forward moving effect in a totally different way than, say, Morton’s left hand embellishments or two-hand rhythmic passages.  We also hear the kind of right hand eighth-notes which would continue to grow in importance as they filtered down through Fats Waller and Art Tatum and made their way into the bebop era as the dominant right hand style.

And, on that note, I want to consider a couple of Fats Waller solos recorded with no vocals or clowning (surprise!) that demonstrate the enormous influence of Johnson on his playing (Johnson was his teacher, after all), and some elements of his own distinctive Harlem Stride style.  Waller, who was 10 years younger than Johnson, legendarily learned “Carolina Shout” from the Johnson piano roll and later went on to study with Johnson.  Here’s an early Waller solo, “Blue Black Bottom” (Click to listen:)

Fats Waller – Blue Black Bottom (1927)

So, here we have the Johnson influence in full force.  Split tenths in the left hand, octave-heavy right-hand work, occasional breaks into right-hand single note passages, a strong separation between the two hands for contrast, a few “novelty” elements, and a ragtime-esque composition with multiple strains.  However, some of the early trademarks of Waller’s style are becoming evident, especially his tendancy to swing the 8th notes much more strongly than Johnson.  Also evident are the enormous size of Waller’s hands, as he hits filled-in 9ths and 10ths with no problems at all in both hands throughout the piece.  And, as a sucker for introductions and endings, I must point out that the trademark Waller ending makes one of its first appearences here.  We find exactly the same ending in this recording of “Handful of Keys” from only 2 years later, when Waller’s more personal style has begun to show itself more clearly (click to listen):

Fats Waller – Handful of Keys (1929)

This recording illustrates one of Waller’s great strenghts – utter precision and lightness on the piano despite (or because of?) the gargantuan size of his body and hands.  This may be a discussion for a later post, but I have recently become preoccupied with bench height and as far as I can ascertain from photos, Waller (along with Erroll Garner) was one of the pianists in the history of jazz who sat the highest while playing.  Whether or not that influenced his touch, the light bouncy feel certainly contrasts with Johnson, who though not as legato as Morton, certainly had a bit more of a heavy hand, and held notes for a bit longer.

Anyway, in this recording we once again hear some important developments courtesy of Waller – certainly the more pronounced swing feel, though a bit “hokey” sounding today, was in vogue at the time, setting the stage for the swing era to come.  The right hand embellishments have moved even higher up in register than in Johnson’s playing, and the whole thing is a bit denser.  As I mentioned above, we have a great deal of single note right hand passages and very impressive work in the left hand with all those 10ths, which are quite hard to hit with accuracy and precision at fast tempos!  Some of Waller’s trademarks are present, especially the lick he uses in the last chorus, with fourths moving to thirds in his right hand, and of course his trademark ending.

Waller was, of course, a talented and prodigious entertainer in addition to a masterful stride pianist, and in some of his later recordings, his pianism is overshadowed by his vocals and storytelling, but as we can hear, he was a master of the Harlem Stride tradition.  Johnson, in turn, like Morton, was a true innovator, combining disparate influences into an entirely new sound which was indespensible in the evolution of jazz.

In the next few posts I’ll address a bit of Sidney Bechet, early Ellington, and some Morton band recordings.  Stay tuned!

[I'm putting the "Post-Colonial West African Groove of the Week" on hold while I drive up to Seattle.  I will post it later today or tomorrow.  Meanwhile, here's the first in my new ongoing series on Jazz Pioneers:]

Well, my long-standing promise to delve into a series of posts on jazz pioneers was given a jump-start last night when I discovered a dialog which began on Toronto pianist Chris Donnelly’s blog back in May with this post on James P. Johnson’s Carolina Shout and his lack of prior knowledge of it.  It was picked up by many other bloggers, including Peter Hum at jazzblog.ca, who also brings Wynton Marsalis into the fold via Ethan Iverson.

Anyhow, I was fortunate enough to be introduced to jazz chronologically, starting with Joplin, then Morton, Armstrong, et. al. and moving more or less chronologically through the history from there up till the present.  As a result, I am always amazed when people don’t know about early jazz figures, though I am certainly in no position to chew anyone out!  It was really my own naive snobbery that caused me to initially reject post-1940 jazz, then later post-1950 jazz, then later post-1960 jazz, etc etc.  Nonetheless, as the dialog that began at Chris Donnelly’s blog suggests, there are good reasons to consider why so many young musicians don’t know about these figures, especially now that we have so many musicians educated in jazz at universities!  That, however is another topic for another time.  Instead of analyzing why people don’t know about early jazz figures, I am instead going to present some of my favorite 20′s and 30′s musicians and tunes, not because I necessarily think that everyone should know about them, or even that I know so much more than everyone else, but simply because, as I continue to explore early jazz, I am constantly reminded about how innovative and original these musicians were in the context of their times, even if their music sounds “old-timey” or hokey to us today.

[Extra disclaimer: I played harmonium in a large group of Portland-based free improv/noise musicians last night, and had a great time!  Just had to throw that in there lest I be misconstrued as some sort of preachy purist.  Onward!]

I’ll start with Jelly Roll Morton, who I firmly believe to be one of the top 5 greatest American musicians of all time, perhaps even #1.  (Not to mention that I am continually trying and failing to master the “reflective badass” look in the above photo).  Morton grew up in the New Orleans of the 20′s, full of brothels, white/black/creole divides, and the famous “melting pot” of musical influences inherent therein.  He claimed to single-handedly invent jazz in the early part of the century.  Though a hyperbole, I believe it’s not much of one.  You’d be hard-pressed to find another early jazz musician who combined classical, ragtime, blues and Caribbean influences as subtly and skillfully as Morton, not to mention his skills as a composer and arranger, which were far ahead of other jazz musicians of the time and really not paralleled until Ellington came on the scene.  Most importantly, there was no one else before him (and not too many since) who were able to single-handedly deliver solo piano performances with such textural variety, contrapuntal melody, and above all, incredible rhythmic drive and swing!  It’s difficult to be simultaneously relaxed and swing really hard in any context, small or large group, but is especially difficult when playing solo piano, and Morton remains the most convincing example in my opinion.

Clearly, I have plenty to say about Morton, and will not attempt to cram it into one lengthy post.  Instead I will focus on one of his best-known compositions, “King Porter Stomp.”  This piece was later made famous in the 1930′s by Benny Goodman’s band among others, and the chord progression of it’s third section was very influential throughout the swing era.  It was written in 1906, and named after Memphis pianist Porter King.  As with many of Morton’s pieces, it has three sections (or “strains”), a formula he carried over from much of the ragtime repertoire.  Unlike most of his 3-strain tunes, however, the first strain is not presented between the second and third as a reprise, he simply states them one after another.  Morton’s three-strain pieces almost always focus on the third strain, and this one is no exception.  This piece is a great example of how to use form to create tension and excitement in a tune.  The first strain contains some “breaks” – sections without a stride-style left hand, and firmly establishes the key of A-flat.  He usually plays it twice, then moves on to the second strain, which is in the relative minor.  This already creates some harmonic tension, and again he breaks up the left hand significantly throughout the strain, making it feel a bit unsettled.  He also builds in volume and intensity during the second repetition of the second strain, leading directly into the transition.  Then comes the third strain, which is repeated an indefinite number of times.  The whole piece moves down a fifth, once again upping the ante harmonically.  He typically states the melody quietly, in a “chorale” like style, as was one of his trademarks.  Then he moves on to a series of continuously building riff choruses with a very “stompy” left hand driving the piece to its conclusion.

Although this form is nearly foolproof and demonstrates Morton’s skills as a composer and arranger, his solo performances demonstrate his unstoppable swing and his conception of the piano as an entire band, a point which he discussed at many points throughout his life.  I have selected three versions which demonstrate not only his skill, but also his evolution from a more straight-eighth ragtime style to his eventual hard-swinging mature style.  Click to listen.

King Porter Stomp (1923)

King Porter Stomp (1926)

King Porter Stomp (1939)

It’s quite interesting to notice the evolution of his swing feel and contrapuntal playing.  Especially by the time of the 1939 recording, you can really hear a lot of very well executed inner voices in his right hand alone, and his left hand has lightened up but is simultaneously more swinging.  Amazingly, he used almost no pedal at any point in his career, which makes the smoothness of his left hand playing quite remarkable.   I can really hear the magic of the New Orleans groove in his later playing, the type of groove which was later used to great effect by pianists such as James Booker and Dr. John, and continues to be an integral part of the brass band tradition there.  Along the same lines, his renditions suggest a full band very clearly, especially in the first two strains where there are various breaks one could easily imagine being played by a trombone or clarinet, and in the very trumpet-like third strain riff choruses.

Hope you enjoy the recordings, they really each have their highlights – I especially like the ultra-”stompy” second chorus in the 1926 version (which is pleasantly distorted, thanks to the fact that the microphone had only been invented a year or two prior!) and of course the later one, from one of his last recording sessions, is quintessential Morton, building to an exciting climax at the end of the piece.

Next time I’ll turn to some New York stride pianists, James P. Johnson and Fats Waller, and will then return to Morton for a look at a few of his small band pieces.  Meanwhile, enjoy the weekend and I’ll be posting this week’s “Post-Colonial African Groove of the Week” tonight or tomorrow.