Not long after the great jazz singer Ella Fitzgerald died in the summer of 1996, Oscar Peterson performed at the Barbican Hall in London, England. Lucky enough to be seated in the nosebleed section for his concert, my date and I looked forward to an evening of superb jazz piano.
The great man came out slowly and painfully; it had been only three years since a stroke onstage in New York nearly sidelined him for good. His movements were laboured but his fingers ran like small athletes over the keyboard, and his first words were of Fitzgerald.
He dedicated the concert to her, and his personal connection to her for over 45 years was shared on a much bigger scale with the adoring strangers in the audience.So it is fitting that several years before she died, Fitzgerald told of her admiration for Peterson when interviewed for(1992).
In the film, she and other music greats like the late Dizzy Gillespie and Norman Granz, and the very much still-with-us Quincy Jones and Herbie Hancock talk about their feelings for Peterson and his sound. They also remember how Peterson's trio were part of the pre-civil rights era in the US, Canada and Europe.
This documentary is a classic biography from Peterson's earliest years in Montreal.
His elder sister, herself a music teacher, speaks of his ability as a small boy to clearly identify five different notes played simultaneously on the piano, and of her frustration at his virtuosity at the keyboard when, like many young boys, he refused to practice.
Their father, a railway porter, wanted more for his children than the grind and racism he experienced daily and would only allow Oscar to play professionally at a young age if he promised "to be the best; there is no second best."
Luckily, Peterson had the talent and a got few great breaks along the way.
But along with the accolades he and the others in the Jazz at the Philharmonic touring group gained over decades was a shameful, deep and often violent racism.
A patronizing, cringe-worthy radio interview with the teenage Peterson in Montreal is played and will make viewers realize that white Canadians during that period could dish out racism in equal quantities to their equivalents south of the border.
Peterson himself recalls a man who, for several years, would travel from Alabama to Montreal for his annual holidays just to hear Peterson play. And when the grateful pianist offered to shake his hand and thank him for his dedication the "fan" told him that although he loved his music but would "never shake hands with a n*****." Peterson recounts the incident with incredulity and contempt and it is a story best heard from his lips.
goes beyond the basic biographical documentary by also capturing a family reunion from the early 1990s.
Peterson, who had been on the road performing for many years, had a complex relationship with his family.
He went through at least three divorces and his children, while recognizing his genius, mourned having an absent father. There were grandchildren present who had only seen him on television.
That he and his family would allow filming of this intimate, sometimes painful, but ultimately joyous gathering is a testament to them as people. And we are fortunate as an audience to get access to moments the filmmakers were lucky to get on camera.
This NFB documentary is being shown as part of the Reel Wednesdays series at the Squamish Adventure Centre on Jan. 10.
Tickets are $7 and the show starts at 8 p.m.
