Joe Chindamo's High 5

Historical article recovered from a Wayback capture dated 2018-02-24.

“Throughout, his approach is one of unpretentious elegance under- scored by superlative technique.”

Jack Bowers Cadence Magazine, New York.

“He has that Bill Evans knack for bringing unlikely material into his own orbit.”

Michael Cuscana, Blue Note reissue producer USA.

“Meldau is a great jazz pianist, we all know, but the latest discovery at Umbria is called Chindamo…He [Chindamo] tranforms and mixes his Tatumesque technique with other ways of thinking about the piano… perfecting a pianism which is rich and delicate, fluid and animated, deconstructed and recomposed with sharp intelligence; all the while, making it relevant to today by aligning itself with modernity”

Aldo Gianolio L’unita, Italy.

“The tenderness and delicacy of his ballad playing, reinforces my opinion that he has no peer as a balladeer in this country [Australia]”

Kevin Jones 2MBS magazine, Aust.

“A virtuoso in the tradition of Peterson (and his idol, Art Tatum), Chindamo demonstrates here that technique isn’t only about speed and accuracy, it’s also to do with touch and expression…It’s a triumphant display that should appeal to any fan of classic piano jazz.”

Adrian Jackson, Rhythms Magazine and The Bulletin, Aust.

“Never, in all my years in Australia, have I heard anyone come even remotely close [to Joe Chindamo].”

Tommy Tycho, conductor, pianist, composer, arranger.

“He has more facility on the piano than you could ever wish for, his energy is boundless, and he is forever inventive and never settles for the obvious (unless it’s the best). Never ask Joe for an idea unless you are prepared for an avalanche of creativity, every time… The reason Joe Chindamo arrests you when you hear him is his sheer love of what he does, a love that sparkles from every note.”

James Morrison

Some of Joe’s awards and acknowledgements include:

2002 MO award for Australian Jazz Instrumental Performer of the Year

and nominated for the same award in 2003.

2004 MO award for Australian Jazz Instrumental Performer of the Year.

Awarded chairman’s Bell award for outstanding achievement for 2004

Bell award for best classic jazz album of 2006. “Live at Umbria Jazz 05”

ABC television documentary made about his life and career, Joe Chindamo - Profile of a Jazz Pianist in 2000.

ABC people’s choice award for best jazz album of 1997,

Anyone who had a heart (Burt Bacharach song book) and nominated for an ARIA award.

Joe recorded The First Take (a.k.a. A Brief History of Standard Time), with the father of the modern jazz bass, Ray Brown (of Oscar Peterson Trio fame) and Reflected Journey with Michael and Randy Brecker. He has also recorded and performed with Randy Brecker, Ernie Watts, Brian Bromberg, James Morrison, Olivia Newton John, Graeme Lyall and US drummer Billy Cobham (with whom Joe made two CDs as sideman and toured the world 20 times throughout a ten year association. Joe has also performed with Lee Konitz, Shirley Bassey and Dame Kiri Te Kanawa.

Active as a studio pianist, Joe has worked on more than 60 film soundtracks, including Babe, The Man From Snowy River II, A Cry in the Dark, Warlock, and Missing in Action II.

In 2000, he began recording for the Sawano record company in Japan, where his album Joy of Standards, reached Number 1 on that country’s HMV Modern Jazz Charts. Other releases also became best sellers in Japan.America – Joe Chindamo Trio plays the Paul Simon Song Book, Joy of Standards Vol.2 and Anyone Who Had a Heart.

In 2005, he appeared at Umbria Jazz Winter in Orvieto, Italy in January, and Umbria Jazz in Perugia in July, where he joined a distinguished lineup of jazz greats, including Oscar Peterson and Tony Bennett. (Recorded first solo CD, Joe Chindamo, Solo- Live At Umbria Jazz 05 at this festival). This album went on to receive the Bell Award for the best classic jazz album of 2006.

In August 2005 he performed in Taiwan (with James Morrison and vocal group Idea of North) and in November was invited by the Australian/Israeli Cultural Exchange to play in Israel, where he gave a concert in Tel Aviv and a nationally televised solo recital at the Jerusalem Museum. In December, performed at Norfolk Island, with Australian jazz legends Don Burrows and James Morrison.

In late 2005 he recorded his first collaborative CD with James Morrison called James Morrison and Joe Chindamo 2X2. Album was released in April 2006.

In 2005 Joe completed a two year Australia Council Fellowship (awarded by the Australian government in 2003) which enabled him to compose a modern orchestral work, Concerto for Accordion and Orchestra.

“When Jazz and Beyond asked me to name and write about my five favourite gigs, my first response was (as others in this similar predicament would no doubt agree) that it’s impossible. How can one choose 5 gigs from dozens of memorable nights, and hundreds of memorable moments? Further, many of the greatest musical moments have emanated from soloists whom I might have been accompanying at the time. To write about these would be far too immodest, and not in keeping with the spirit of the task at hand. However, I will deviate from the norm more than a little and use the 5 gigs as a landscape on which to build a commentary - a melange of nostalgia and thoughts that come to mind in relation to these experiences and the general jazz scene ( with particular reference to institutionalized jazz today). I might like to do some venting as well. (The Italians don’t complain - we vent, and HATE to be told to chill out while we’re doing it). I’ve used italics when ever I’ve deviated considerably from talking about the gigs, for the benefit of those who may wish only to restrict their reading to my experiences of the actual concerts. Finally, these are not necessarily the best gigs I’ve ever witnessed, but those which meant a lot to me at the time, and for which my anticipation had been overwhelming. Also, I can’t give you exact dates, as they happened a long time ago and I never kept diaries.”

1. OSCAR PETERSON AND JOE PASS - Dallas Brooks Hall - Melbourne 1977?

This was a concert I was so looking forward to. I worshipped Oscar at this time (I was 15 or 16), and had never heard him live. I’d also never heard the guitar played as masterfully as Joe Pass did. In fact, as my first instrument was accordion, I owned a few Art Van Damm records, and particularly loved the one on which Joe Pass appeared as side-man (It’s a blue world??). He was by far the best thing on that album, but I was also incredulous as to why he wasn’t famous (or more so). It was with great pleasure (and small sense of personal satisfaction at being able to pick a great without allegiance to anyone else’s opinion) when I found out that Oscar had also ‘discovered’ Pass. (Remember, I was a 15 year old kid.) I couldn’t believe what that man was doing on the guitar -on his own! I approached Pass after the gig and told him I had the Van Damm record and some other record of his (I forget which one now) and he quipped “that’s all I ever made”.

Oscar was a giant of a man, physically and spiritually. I thought I was going to burst with excitement when he first walked onto the stage. He also seemed really old to me, and it’s with some degree of horror that my maths tells me that he was only 52 at the time. It was the first time I had seen -as well as heard- playing of this order. I loved his left hand in particular. I don’t know how much of the concert I actually heard, since I was in a state of drunken wonder throughout.

Much has been written about Oscar - his technique in particular, and it always surprises me how much his prowess at the piano has come under fire. To me, this is penis envy mixed in with inverted snobbery. The first bit is self explanatory, and the latter might have something to do with the idea that amateurishness is imbued with sincerity, while studying is destructive to one’s natural instincts. How many times, have we heard that so and so can’t read music, has very little technique, has never studied - but BOY, what a natural, and how many times, do we hear people lament over players with nothing else going for them than technique. Interestingly, I’ve never heard anyone criticise the musicality of someone with lousy technique. Is it possible that all people with no technique are blessed with natural ability?

It’s almost as if some jazz players (and some critics) take it as a personal offence that Oscar got so good - it’s undemocratic, to have this kind of ability. It’s analogous to someone who has too much money: it’s considered unfair. And in much the same way that one should never demean the poor, it’s considered poor taste to kick a man when his technique is down. In a way, I’m copping the same thing at this stage of my career, and it always amuses/ annoys me that many of the pianists who have claimed in interviews that technique is not important and subtly crucify those of us who value piano playing highly , have knocked on my door in order to improve their own. One young and up and coming musician actually named me, claiming that did not need my kind of technical command - because he “heard music differently”. What he failed to add was that he had asked me for lessons the week before. There is an unstated understanding that instrumental command is trivial, and far inferior to the conceptualization of the idea. This is analogous to the many modern English teachers who claim that vocabulary and grammar are not as important or creative as ‘the idea”. True, but… one cannot exist without the other. Poor Oscar Wilde. Poor Shakespeare - men who were bogged down by too much scholarship. The analogy to sport is always worth mentioning. Intellectually, I know how to beat Ian Thorp in a swimming race - it’s really easy- all I have to do is swim faster! Intellectually the problem is solved: the only thing which remains is the realization of the idea through teaching my body how to obey my mind. Playing an instrument is no different. You can’t rely on the idea alone to get you to your destination without learning how to translate a mental image physiologically. Generally the greatest musicians of all time were virtuosi. Bach, Mozart, Beethoven, Scarlatti, Bartok, Rachaminov, Prokofiev, Debussy, Armstrong … do I need to go on? I can hear the howls of dissent; ‘but Miles didn’t have a great technique.” Actually he did, because he had a great sound, and sound is a huge part of technique. It’s not about speed.

Oscar was superior than other players in many other ways too, which were overlooked. His harmonic sense was incredible, for instance, and he had some of the best ears in the business. He has been a beautiful accompanist to many a great soloist and singer.

Having said all this, if I’d heard recording of that concert, it’s quite possible that it wouldn’t rank amongst the greatest music I’ve heard ( not even from Oscar ) but it was a milestone in my life, one which certainly kept me inspired for years.

2. PAT METHENY GROUP – Comedy Theatre 1985

I was playing in Vince Jones’ band at this time, and the whole band went along to hear Metheny, Lyall Mays, et al. We had such a great time. Doug De Vries (a master of the guitar) was in the band, as were Gary Costello, Allan Brown, Paul Williamson and Bruce Sandell. Vince was so impressed that he ordered me to bring a synthesizer on subsequent gigs and play string pads. The idea doesn’t appeal to me now, of course. But you know, I strongly believe that all like what we get used to, especially if the particular genre in question is part of the zeitgeist. This was the age of Midi and the drum machine (probably the worst things to have happened to music). I used to live in the studio , playing on movie sound tracks, commercials, TV shows, pop record, jazz rock bands in those days, and this band Incorporated much that was relevant to the era, and it was one of the very the finest around at what it did. Miles was doing his electric thing at the time, but quite frankly I think others did it better. Herbie, Chick, Metheny, The Brecker Bros, and the greatest of them all, Weather Report. A little aside here: Randy Brecker once told me that during this period, Miles asked his brother Mike to join his band, but the latter refused the offer, deciding instead to pursue the Brecker Bros. Stan Getz was also a great admirer of Brecker and used to go” eye ball”(Randy’s term) the latter’s at gigs . I couldn’t bare to listen to the Metheny band for quite a few years , but played one of their recordings recently, and notwithstanding some of the dated Synth sounds ( they date so quickly, don’t they) really enjoyed it, and kicked off a Metheny season in my car. The guitar playing is really amazing. One of the great melodists, whose music, is full of joy.

3. PHIL WOODS - Beaconsfield Hotel, Melbourne (circa 1979/80?)

I remember attending this gig with a whole bunch of college kids. By the way, for the record, I never went to the Vic College of the arts, but rather, the State College (the old teachers’ college) which has since been swallowed up by Melbourne University, and basically doesn’t exist anymore. I did a double major, music and maths, which entailed taking classical piano lessons, a few of the performance based classes, wagging most of my maths classes - and practicing a lot. I actually did quite well at the maths course, considering they hardly saw me. The piano lessons were the first I’d ever had, since I was originally an accordionist and didn’t even own a piano until I was nearly 16. (I’ve never had a jazz piano lesson in my life, incidentally). Anyway, I’m getting off the point. There was a good energy at this place, and it was positive: unlike some of the tertiary venues now, which seem to me, to be places where the young musician goes to broaden his vision, and narrow the mind. It doesn’t help that many students adopt their lecturers’ tastes and prejudices far too soon, before they’ve ( the students, not the lecturers) learnt their craft and developed their own ideas about music. In fact, many of them wish to be artists before learning their craft - which is absurd. You can’t become a great musician before becoming a good one. Now, some of these teachers would have listened to all the great players when they were starting out, and as they’ve gotten older, have distilled their sensibilities to the point where they like only a hand -full of artists. This is natural, and in a sense, I’m not immune to this process either, but it’s very damaging for an 18 year old kid , who’s around this kind of influence, to emerge believing Keith Jarrett to be the only pianist worth listening to, or that jazz rock is all shit, that Mike Brecker is not really a jazz musician, and finally, that there are sacred cows in jazz who must be worshipped unconditionally and never questioned, challenged… or even disliked. I always remember a quote ( forget who said it ) that every body demands the right to free speech, but not many exercise the right of free thought, and jazz today, with colleges all over the world acting as its engine rooms, has become gentrified, whereupon the very qualities that were once its raison d’etre, are viewed with suspicion and often reacted to with ridicule. Jazz has become a domain where free thought is only permitted within the parameters of established streams - which of course, means, there is little room for free thought and much pressure to conform to the middle ground The middle ground is not wedded to style either. There are middle grounds in all styles. There is no rebellion involved in playing Giant Steps or Monk’s music anymore, and the playing of so called avant guard music is as conformist as it is to play Gershwin, because it’s ALL been done before. So, whilst it is everyone’s individual right to like what they like, to value one style over another is to indulge in pure snobbery.

Further, in jazz, style seems to automatically dictate the level of creativity of the musician, and less regard is given to the level of creativity he brings to the style. For instance, is Anthony Braxton more creative than Stan Getz, because the former chooses to express himself through atonality (which seems to be beyond criticism and is not to be subjected to the same scrutiny as other methods of expression) and the latter, by way of ‘less adventurous” mainstream? I would rather look at the creativity that the player brings to the style than assume his creative worthiness by his choice of style.

The other phenomenon which intrigues me is that an artist’s worth is more than often measured by his subject area. Moreover, the expression of darker emotions seems to indicate to greater artistic achievement. This happens in Hollywood all the time. Peter Sellers never won an academy award, because he played the funny man, but almost got one for “Being There”, because his role involved playing a mentally challenged character. Interestingly, Geoffrey Rush (notwithstanding his prodigious talents), received better critical acclaim for his portrayal of Sellers than that original actor ever did for his work. In music, this happens all the time. Emotional struggle is admired far more than effortlessness. In jazz, “striving” for an idea is better than actually mastering one. This is perhaps why Jarrett or Monk is regarded more highly than Garner or Tatum. I’ve studied the latter intensely and have found that at times he out Monked Monk, but because he tossed it off so fleetingly,

effortlessly and masterfully - and in the spirit of normality- this aspect of his genius was overlooked. Garner’s ‘Concert By the Sea’ is a treasure trove of some of jazz’s - correction- music’s most impassioned melodic moments (or in his case, quarter hours), and I’ve never heard anyone call Garner a lyrical player - an adjective normally used to describe Jarrett [a great artist, whom, to my mind, plays between his ideas much too often}. Garner, whose music is a celebration of life, gives the air that we had better grab those joyous moments when we can, because they don’t last. With Jarrett, whose playing exudes seldom matched beauty sometimes, I get the feeling, that his is a constant struggle to express a humanity which Garner manages to establish in the first bar. But maybe W.Somerset Maugham said it best (and applies to music as well as literature). “Make him [the reader] laugh and he will think you a trivial fellow, but bore him in the right way and your reputation is assured.”

Back to my college, okay, we had to put up with a little of the typical jazz bullshit about who’s art was more important, who was hip that week and who wasn’t, etc, but it wasn’t as nasty or one- eyed has it seems to be today. In addition, we actually went to hear gigs, which is something a lot of kids aren’t doing these days. Further, all the concerts we went to , including the Woods gig, were extensions of our daily life at the college, and it’s in this spirit that I remember that event. I remember lots of laughing and excitement around me and thus particularly enjoyed sharing the Woods concert with my class mates. I remember our singing along to a couple of his famous endings to songs - he must have been thrilled at having inspired a sing-a-long, I’m sure! An amazing player with a deliciously sexy tone and flawless phrasing. This guy was a pro, in the old fashioned sense of the word. It was the first time I’d heard Bob Sedergreen live, and thought he gave an inspired performance - he sounded great. Unfortunately, I don’t remember who the rhythm section members were. This was another gig that filled my petrol tank and kept me going for a long time.

We were looking forward to another such outing to an upcoming gig, at the same venue, but unfortunately Bill Evans died a few months before he was due out.

4. MAURIZIO POLLINI – Salle Pleyel Paris 1999

I’d been a fan of classical pianist Pollini since I was a teenager. I was heard him on the record he made shortly after he won the Chopin Warsaw piano competition - the heaviest of them all. This was the competition that launched the careers of Argerich and Ashkenazy, to name two others. Pollini was 18 and the playing was staggering, with that ‘parting of the waves’ technique of his. And to hear him live for the first time, in a hall where Chopin and Listz played (not to mention Ravel, Debussy and Stravinsky, who gave first performances of their works there) was transcendental for me. I remember thinking, there is no one on the planet who can play the piano better than this, and for the first time, since having the shit kicked out of me by some of the Marist Bros at school, I started to think of that maybe the existence of a god was strong possibility. This was human achievement on the highest level. He played an all Beethoven programme.

5. GRAEME LYALL (MIETTAS WITH TONY GOULD) - circa 1991 and every other time he’s ever played.

Graeme Lyall is the greatest living altoist, as far as I’m concerned. I know of at least half a dozen other people who agree with me, and I want to shake anyone who dismisses him with a cool “Yes, he’s really good.” Harmonically he’s driving on the wrong side of the road much of the time, but disguises it so well, through his logical weaving together of impossible melodic lines, that hardly anyone notices just how advanced he is. He is the Australian musician who influenced me more than any other, and I endeavoured to adopt his harmonic sense for my own playing from the time I first heard him. This is probably why my own subversive ‘wrong side of the road” playing is often confused with mainstream.

I can’t really pinpoint a gig as such, and the one I’ve mentioned will serve as an example. Actually the ‘gig’ where he really did bowl me over was a TV appearance Sammy Davis Jnr made on the Don Lane show, where upon Graeme played under the famous entertainer and then ripped into a great solo. I think I was about 13 at the time, and it made me proud to be Australian (I wasn’t venting at the time - so I wasn’t been Italian).

By the way, what the %#?! happened to music on TV these days and how did it get so bad?