Mal Waldron's 1978 Solo Piano Concert in Grenoble
A newly unearthed treasure of the late pianist at his most probing
Though the pianist Mal Waldron recorded more than 110 albums as a leader or co-leader, he is known mainly as a sideman to the likes of Coltrane, Mingus, Dolphy, Blakey, and, in her final few years, Billie Holiday. In 1963, he collapsed in a drug OD, took more than a year to recover, during which time he moved to Europe, where he would for the most part stay (he died in 2002 at the age of 77) and where he also crafted a new style, built less on chords and more on rhythm, veering away from lyrical melodies, more toward repetition of motifs, with slight and steady variations, mainly in harmony (his left hand could invoke the rich colors of an orchestra). Yet he could also stretch out, when he wanted. Some of his duet albums with soprano saxophonist Steve Lacy (especially their Strayhorn tribute album, Sempre Amore) were gorgeously straight-ahead, and his live albums with a quintet that included Woody Shaw and Charlie Rouse (The Seagulls of Krisiansund and The Git-Go) were sumptuously rousing.
Searching in Grenoble: The 1978 Solo Piano Concert is a deeply meditative, 103-minute-long display of Waldron’s full range. It begins with repetitions and slight rhythmic alterations (some have likened his work to the minimalism of Glass and Riley, though in fact it’s very different); he takes a while to warm up. (The same was true in the one set that I saw him play live.) Soon enough, though, he’s exploring melodies, weaving in romantic covers (“You Don’t Know What Love Is,” “It Could Happen to You,” “I Thought About You”), as well as his own originals-turned-standards (“Fire Waltz,” “Soul Eyes,” and “All Alone”).
Waldron, especially from the 1970s on, was one of a few monumental pianists. Not a virtuoso, he dwelled mainly—almost obsessively—in the keyboard’s middle registers, but he erected structures in that space, creations to gasp at, even if it took a few hearings to imbibe, appreciate, and eventually (if you’re up for it) cherish. (Ran Blake and Matthew Shipp are two living pianists who cite him as chief influences, though Waldron had a more natural sense of swing.)
The analog concert tapes, recorded by ORTF Radio and Television, were transferred to a digital file, then remastered. The highs are rolled (not unusual for 45-year-old tapes), though, and while this is less damaging than it might be for other pianists (Waldron, as noted, stays mainly in the midrange), the overall sound is somewhat stifled. Still, there’s an intimacy to this recording; if we don’t hear much of the overtones and ambience, we at least hear Waldron’s finger and pedal work close up.
