Art Tatum: Piano Starts Here

Yet Sony Music and Zenph Studios have done the seemingly impossible—they have released a “live” performance of Art Tatum at The Shrine in 1949 (Piano Starts Here). Only this live recording was made in 2007. Say what? Since I am not a recording engineer, this will have to be the Techno-Wizardry For Dummies explanation. What I understand is this: Zenph has developed a process of reconstituting old recordings, in this case one that was damaged goods, by digitally capturing the exact rendering of the music, even to the point of analyzing how the keys were struck by the original fingers, then replaying it through modern equipment, in this case a Yamaha Disklavier Pro Mark III Concert Grand placed in precisely the same spot on The Shrine Auditorium stage as Tatum originally performed, in front of a live audience. (This is termed a “re-performance.”) The result? An impeccable recording of Tatum’s artistry, complete with audience applause. The hype around this project is readily anticipated—we hear the “real” Art Tatum as did that audience in 1949, now with a record of every sound and nuance that defied capture and preservation six decades ago. (For a more in-depth technological description, see Gary Giddens’ column in the August issue of Jazz Times.)

But here is the inevitable question: Is this really Art Tatum? He never touched a Disklavier. He wasn’t at the Shrine Auditorium in 2007. And if he had been able to jump into a Time Machine and show up for the gig, would Art Tatum have so perfectly matched Art Tatum? Would he have played such masterpieces as “Tea for Two” and “How High the Moon?” the “same way once?”

There is no doubt that the recording enables us to appreciate the speed, the delicacy, the dexterity, the inventiveness of one of the greatest musicians of all time in a way that perhaps is not really possible through Tatum’s existing discography. (And perhaps not even possible to the live audience of 1949!) If Tatum were somehow alive today, there is no doubt he would be playing and recording on equipment not even imagined in 1949. But this is akin to taking an Ansel Adams negative from, well, let’s say 1949, scanning it digitally, and making a new print using the best of modern technology to restore contrast, highlights, and shadows that surely were in Adams’ mind’s eye if not through his lens, but impossible to reveal in print 60 years ago. Is it still an Ansel Adams photograph or an image based on Adams?

This brings up the dilemma: Is it still art if it is imitated, no matter how skillful the duplication? Is it really the “Mona Lisa” if digital technology allows one to accurately duplicate Leonardo’s brush strokes, paint composition, and original canvas? Or is that just high tech “paint by the numbers?” Specifically in jazz, if the hallmark of the music is to be “in the moment,” is it still jazz if we faithfully recreate that moment?

If you are intrigued by the process or simply curious how Art Tatum might sound with the benefit of flawless recording technology, look for a copy of Piano Starts Here: Live at The Shrine on Sony. This is without doubt a pristine alternative to just about any recording made before the 21^st century, and we can certainly appreciate how Tatum might sound today given the same talent, same style, same pressure on the keys. And in the future, we can expect more from Zenph—Armstrong, Hawkins, Young, Monk...the possibilities are endless. But let’s be clear that we are not hearing what Tatum et al really sounded like in their time. Piano Starts Here, and future “reperformances,” only suggest how the legends might sound in a 21^st century concert hall on 21^st century instruments. Maybe the opposite would be equally fascinating and instructive—what would Brad Mehldau or Jason Moran sound like if heard “live” at Carnegie Hall in 1949?

We were all fascinated but also somewhat horrified by the arrival of Dolly, the first successful clone. Yet the stem cell spinoff has the power to save and improve countless lives. Medical technology may seem to be running ahead of our ethical and moral development, yet one can imagine how the creation of sheep or even a beating heart might enhance humanity through thoughtful progress.

Personally, I’m less inclined to consider the latest in sound technology as a major breakthrough that will benefit mankind. It’s intriguing but, unlike Art Tatum, it lacks soul and creation in the moment. Those are essential characteristics of jazz. Music created in the laboratory is a marvel of engineering. Music created by musicians (acoustically or electronically, on the bandstand or in the studio) is a marvel of humanity.

This is an expanded version of Andrea’s blog posted May 28, 2008 at www.jazzink.blogspot.com