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Touch

newTOUCH - Jessica Williams, solo piano, composer, 2010/2011- A major release on Origin Arts Records - THIS ALBUM IS AVAILABLE: BUY

1 I Loves You Porgy mp3 - George Gershwin

2 Soldaji - Jessica Williams

3 Rosa Parks - Jessica Williams

4 Wise One - John Coltrane

5 Gail's Song - Jessica Williams

6 I Cover the Waterfront mp3 - Green, Heyman

7 Goodbye Porkpie Hat mp3 - Charles Mingus

8 Simple Things - Jessica Williams

TOUCH / Jessica Williams, Live in solo performance on the Main Stage of The Triple Door in Seattle WA / PRODUCED BY JESSICA WILLIAMS AND JOHN BISHOP / Recorded January 7, 2010, by Craig Montgomery / Piano is a Steinway 'D' 9-foot Concert Grand

 

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itemAll compositions by Jessica Williams are published by JJW Music ASCAP
itemWrite a REVIEW for this CD | Critic's Reviews | Buyer's Reviews
itemRead Jessica Williams' liner notes

critics Reviews


itemTOUCH, by Dan McClenaghan, All About Jazz

Origin Records / 2010 / http://www.allaboutjazz.com/php/article.php?id=37107

Pianist Jessica Williams continues to evolve, and what a pure music lover's joy it is to hear an artist entering her sixth decade on a roll, growing and expanding her vision. Classically trained at the Peabody Conservatory, jazz-trained in the bands of Philly Joe Jones, Tony Williams, Stan Getz and others, Williams furthered her education with her own—more than seventy—albums/CDs as a leader.

Always a high level jazzer, Williams rose to the top ranks of her craft when she started her own Red and Blue Records. Three of the label's discs stand out as vehicles toward Williams ascent to the peak of her profession: For John Coltrane (2005), Tatum's Ultimatum (2007) and Deep Monk (2008). The sets are Williams' very deeply-felt personal tributes to three giants, John Coltrane, Art Tatum and Thelonious Monk. These would have cemented her reputation as a singular artist. But...

In the same time frame when she was recording these tribute albums on her own label, Williams was also—for Seattle's Origin Records—recording her own solo piano CDs, pure Jessica sets: Songs for a New Century (2008), where the pianist jettisoned all the hype and expectations and found her musical center, The Art of the Piano (2009), which is very similar to Songs...," but played in a live in concert rather than in studio, and now Touch.

Vocalist Tony Bennett was reportedly informed, early in his career by Pearl Bailey, that it was going to take him ten years merely to learn how to walk out on the stage. If that is true, how long does it take to learn how to touch a key on the piano? How softly or how hard to press in any given situation? How long to sustain (or not sustain) the note?

Williams "touch" on the piano is her voice. It can be elegant or down and dirty, erudite or fun-loving, and always seems full of a far-reaching, seeking spirituality. She is a rare artist whose each individual note, each touch of a key, contains clarity and beauty and wonder.

Touch, the CD, takes the sound of discovery and wonder Williams has offered up the the previously mentioned Origin Records sets and pushed it forward.

Williams feels her way into the familiar on the disc's opening cut, Gershwin's "I Loves You Porgy." When she finds the melody, she expresses it with a lush harmony and a relaxed feel. She makes it sound holy, like a ruminative prayer of solemn joy and praise. The audience, at song's end, hesitates, stunned perhaps, before it breaks into into applause, a whoop from the back of the room. It may have been the most beautiful nine minutes they have ever heard.

The three other non-originals on the set get similar treatment. Coltrane's "Wise One" carries on Williams' fascination with the late saxophonist. She is his finest interpreter, capturing his otherworldly sacredness of his music. "I Cover the Waterfront" lightens the mood, with Williams dishing out flurries of notes with a l in her right hand, a deliberate rhythm in her left. On Charles Mingus' "Goodbye Porkpie Hat," the legendary bassist/composer's tribute to saxophonist Lester Young, Williams captures the near teeth-gnashing pathos of the original—from Mingus Ah Um (Columbia Records, 1959)—and tempers it with acceptance while still seeming to question a creator who would take such a gentle soul away.

Williams original tunes glow with joy and rapture. They seem to grow free like vibrant flowering vines, entwining rhythmic fence posts as they open up melodic and harmonic blooms. "Soldaji" sounds like an awakening from a gentle dream. "Rosa Parks" brims with a simple beauty and hope. And "Simple Things" closes the set on a buoyant note that leaves a smile.

Touch is the work of a supremely confident artist who has mastered her craft and melded it to her spiritual center, to share it. Absolutely gorgeous!

- Dan McClenaghan, All About Jazz

itemRecent Listening: Jessica Williams by Doug Ramsey, ArtsJournal Contributor

Jessica Williams, Touch (Origin).

It would have been difficult to imagine that Williams might exceed what she achieved in her 2009 solo concert recording The Art of the Piano. Yet, less than a year later she returned to Seattle’s Triple Door and gave this recital glowing with her customary pianistic dazzle and a nearly Brahmsian gravity leavened with wit. The album’s title implies more than the exquisite way she addresses the instrument’s keyboard and pedals—the pianist’s equivalent of tone. She demonstrates that aspect of her musicality with understated drama in the album’s first piece, “I Loves You Porgy.” Near the end, following a passage drenched in blues feeling, she releases a freshet of quiet 32nd notes at the very top of the keyboard where only the best pianos don’t sound tinny. The Triple Door’s Steinway D is silvery in its upper reaches. Williams’s control is so exacting that despite the speed with which the stream goes by, each tiny note has its own clarity, its own expressiveness. Contrasted with the solidity of the bass note pattern in her left hand, the effect is mesmerizing; sparkles of sunlight on clear water rushing over rocks. When the piece ends, the audience does something unusual in these days of exhibitionist stomping and whistling at jazz performances. It sits quietly for a full four seconds before someone starts to applaud.

No, the Williams touch arises from every aspect of her musicality and goes beyond technique into the rarified territory of recognizability. Listeners familiar with her are unlikely to need a CD cover or an announcement to know who is playing. It has to do with the way her left hand voices chords, the characteristic fillip she gives grace notes, the way she floats time without sacrificing swing, her infusion of blues feeling into material that has no formal connection to blues harmonies, her personalization of songs indelibly identified with others. Paying tribute, she takes ownership of Charles Mingus’s “Goodbye Porkpie Hat” and John Coltrane’s “Wise One.” A transformer of standards, Williams enters the landscape of nostalgia with Johnny Green’s “I Cover the Waterfront” but manages to also make it an occasion for mild puns and a subtle bow toward Erroll Garner’s kind of swing.

Her own compositions enhance the reflective mood of the album. “Soldaji,” the title a variation on the Portuguese “saudade,” is as expressive of loss and longing as anything by Jobim, Bonfá or Villa Lobos. “Rosa Parks” is the waltz in the collection, with logical if unpredictable chord changes and a soft insistence that suggests its namesake. “Gail’s Song” is an after-midnight ballad that might seem patterned on a standard except for its unexpected chromaticisms, deceptively voiced seventh chords, and decorative flourishes that echo Ellington. “Simple Things” is just that, an open, uncomplicated melody in F with a set of changes that makes it easy for Williams to have fun. She quotes from or alludes to some of her favorite things, including “My Favorite Things,” “I’ll Never Be the Same,” “Along Came Bill,” “Some Enchanted Evening,” “Mairzy Doats” and Sophisticated Swing,” not to mention an assortment of bebop licks. I may have missed a few. The quotes are not the point. The point is that they are not tacked on but fit into the flow of her improvisation so that if you didn’t recognize them, it wouldn’t matter.

This level of accomplishment must be what Williams was anticipating when she said a few years ago that she felt she was on the verge of a step into “the next zone.” If so, the zone is an attractive place for her and her listeners. Williams seems to have worked through a period in which she was thoroughly musical—she has always been that—but not quite at peace with the world or herself. Touch has the air of a woman comfortable with her maturity and relaxed in her expanding musical universe.

People in the jazz community, particularly pianists in awe of Williams’s consistency, creativity and constant growth, often discuss why so many critics and the business side of jazz seem deaf to her brilliance. Whatever the reasons, they must be sociological, political or cultural. They cannot be musical, not with her decades of development into an artist who can sit at a piano in a night club and create a masterpiece like Touch.

-August 11, 2010 By Doug Ramsey

itemAudiophile Audition: Touch - Origin Records 82566, 56.5 min. *****(five stars)

The piano is no longer a percussion instrument for her - she sees it as foremost a symphonic stringed instrument with an enormous palette of colors.

Published on August 09, 2010

Pianist Jessica Williams was recorded live at The Triple Door in Seattle in this eight-track CD of four of her original compositions plus one each from Gershwin, Mingus, Coltrane and Johnny Green. I've long felt she is one of the very finest jazz pianists today - a jazz equivalent of Martha Argerich in the classical world. And her notes in the booklet are some of the most interesting notes from a performer I have ever read with an album.

Williams goes into some detail about the two grand pianos in her life - A Steinway D at the Triple Door and a Yamaha Conservatory Concert grand at her home. Both are kept adjusted to perfection by her piano technician Ryan Sowers. She says the playing she provides on this album would be completely impossible with an out-of-tune instrument, and goes into the practice of performers such as Glenn Gould and Bill Evans of unconsciously singing along with their playing to somehow force a recalcitrant piano into proper tune. She has her technician adjust the pianos to be exactly how she wants them. She even stated (somewhere else than in these particular notes) that when really properly tuned and voiced American Steinways no longer have the brittle upper register sound usually associated with them.

Williams says she has written 300 compositions of her own, and selected four for this album. She also says the piano is no longer a percussion instrument for her - she sees it as foremost a symphonic stringed instrument with an enormous palette of colors.  Her touch on the keyboard demonstrates this clearly and is quite identifiable.  A fine example of this is the longest track on the album - her lush, slow and thoughtful treatment of the gorgeous I Loves You Porgy, from Porgy and Bess. That one has a passage with her playing in the very highest treble of the Steinway keyboard, and she's right - there's none of that steely sound. The unaccompanied piano really puts the performer in the spotlight - there's nothing to hide behind. The best albums of many of the finest jazz pianists have been their piano solo sessions.

Williams refers in her notes to "a lot of the new music - accompanied by unintelligible piano miseries and drum sophistry, all underpinned by fallacious bass playing" being a good reason to pursue a career in solo piano.

Rosa Parks is a swinging little waltz honoring the civil rights pioneer, but whoever Gail is, Gail's Song shows her to be a bit more sophisticated, perhaps glamorous and unpredictable.  Williams' treatment of I Cover the Waterfront reminded me of Art Tatum with its breathtaking runs up and down the keyboard. Her closing track - Simple Things - is just that, with a lovely long-lined melody that sounds almost familiar, although it's not. Williams doesn't have to throw in classical quotations to demonstrate that she's had thorough classical training; one can hear it in all her improvisations and compositions.

TrackList: I Loves You Porgy, Soldaji, Rosa Parks, Wise One, Gail's Song, I Cover the Waterfront, Goodbye Porkpie Hat, Simple Things

 - John Henry, critic, Audiophile Audition

itemThe Jazz Police: Written by Andrea Canter, Contributing Editor

"I no longer direct the music. The music takes me where it wants to go. I choose a vehicle, and that is all. If I can not find one that suits me well, I make one up on the spot, or I write one…" -- Jessica Williams, liner note to Touch.

A TOUCH SUPREME

Touch is essentially a follow-up to Jessica Williams luscious solo, Art of the Piano, again recorded live at the Triple Door in Seattle on the same piano, again on Origin. "My touch on the piano is my singular 'voice'…Bill [Evans] and I shared a similar regard for the importance of touch and the generation of tonal color," notes Williams in her (as usual!) extensive and personal liner notes.  And even more than Evans, Williams regards the solo instrument as the purest form of performance and artistic creation, having devoted much of her professional career to a one-on-one with the audience. She even goes so far as to state that "a lot of the 'new music,' accompanied by unintelligible piano miseries and drum sophistry, all underpinned by fallacious bass playing, is one good reason to pursue a career in solo piano, if only to balance the scales of good and evil."

If her attitude spells "take no prisoners," so does her solo piano offer no compromises or pretension. As a longtime fan of Bill Evans, Keith Jarrett and Fred Hersch, I know of no piano soloist who surpasses Jessica Williams' ability to evoke emotion from a single note. Or from the lingering sustain of a single note or chord. Touch brings magic to four original compositions and exquisite covers of Gershwin, Coltrane, Mingus and Green/Heyman. Notes Jessica, "I chose the pieces here mainly for their simplicity and their use of space…I release these creations into the wild with hopes that some listeners may find their qualities healing, life-affirming, and filled with the joy and the rapture with which they were made." 

Jessica's words as well as her notes speak for themselves on Touch; the covers are given as much personal treatment as her own compositions, and all together stands as an elegant suite guided by a single (or make that two) hands. The distant darkness of "I Loves You Porgy" needs no lyric; minor key shifts and sweet extended harmonies say it all with tinges of blue. Coltrane's "Wise One" is majestic, ominous, nearly hymnal, tremulous and defiant. A brighter mood prevails on "I Cover the Water Front," Williams breaking into stride and light musical commentary. Appropriately, "Goodbye Porkpie Hat" (Mingus' salute to Lester Young) has a funereal darkness, a respectful tone and hints of a world beyond. 

If she was not such a talented performer, Jessica Williams might nonetheless have a place in jazz history as a composer. "Soldaji" offers a hauntingly beautiful melody, a touch suggesting a harp, particularly at the end of lines where a flourish of high notes is as startling as it is songful. "Rosa Parks" evokes a gentle soul of profound strength, as its namesake, while "Gail's Song" sways, not quite sadly, evoking a bit of "Porgy and Bess" in the blue touch and hints of pathos, in Jessica's exquisite creation of space. The final "Simple Things" is not so simple, pulling together many of the gorgeous details that fill the album, space, fluidity, grace, flourishes that land on air currents and linger.

Music served by touch, the point of interaction between pianist and instrument, provides the point of interaction between pianist and listener.

Andrea Canter, The Jazz Police

itemDoug Ramsey, JazzTimes Critic

Recent Listening: Jessica Williams, Touch (Origin).

It would have been difficult to imagine that Williams might exceed what she achieved in her 2009 solo concert recording The Art of the Piano. Yet, less than a year later she returned to Seattle's Triple Door and gave this recital glowing with her customary pianistic dazzle and a nearly Brahmsian gravity leavened with wit. The album's title implies more than the exquisite way she addresses the instrument's keyboard and pedals—the pianist's equivalent of tone. She demonstrates that aspect of her musicality with understated drama in the album's first piece, "I Loves You Porgy." Near the end, following a passage drenched in blues feeling, she releases a freshet of quiet 32nd notes at the very top of the keyboard where only the best pianos don't sound tinny. The Triple Door's Steinway D is silvery in its upper reaches. Williams's control is so exacting that despite the speed with which the stream goes by, each tiny note has its own clarity, its own expressiveness. Contrasted with the solidity of the bass note pattern in her left hand, the effect is mesmerizing; sparkles of sunlight on clear water rushing over rocks. When the piece ends, the audience does something unusual in these days of exhibitionist stomping and whistling at jazz performances. It sits quietly for a full four seconds before someone starts to applaud.

No, the Williams touch arises from every aspect of her musicality and goes beyond technique into the rarified territory of recognizability. Listeners familiar with her are unlikely to need a CD cover or an announcement to know who is playing. It has to do with the way her left hand voices chords, the characteristic fillip she gives grace notes, the way she floats time without sacrificing swing, her infusion of blues feeling into material that has no formal connection to blues harmonies, her personalization of songs indelibly identified with others. Paying tribute, she takes ownership of Charles Mingus's "Goodbye Porkpie Hat" and John Coltrane's "Wise One." A transformer of standards, Williams enters the landscape of nostalgia with Johnny Green's "I Cover the Waterfront" but manages to also make it an occasion for mild puns and a subtle bow toward Erroll Garner's kind of swing.

Her own compositions enhance the reflective mood of the album. "Soldaji," the title a variation on the Portuguese "saudade," is as expressive of loss and longing as anything by Jobim, Bonfá or Villa Lobos. "Rosa Parks" is the waltz in the collection, with logical if unpredictable chord changes and a soft insistence that suggests its namesake. "Gail's Song" is an after-midnight ballad that might seem patterned on a standard except for its unexpected chromaticisms, deceptively voiced seventh chords, and decorative flourishes that echo Ellington. "Simple Things" is just that, an open, uncomplicated melody in F with a set of changes that makes it easy for Williams to have fun. She quotes from or alludes to some of her favorite things, including "My Favorite Things," "I'll Never Be the Same," "Along Came Bill," "Some Enchanted Evening," "Mairzy Doats" and Sophisticated Swing," not to mention an assortment of bebop licks. I may have missed a few. The quotes are not the point. The point is that they are not tacked on but fit into the flow of her improvisation so that if you didn't recognize them, it wouldn't matter.

This level of accomplishment must be what Williams was anticipating when she said a few years ago that she felt she was on the verge of a step into "the next zone." If so, the zone is an attractive place for her and her listeners. Williams seems to have worked through a period in which she was thoroughly musical—she has always been that—but not quite at peace with the world or herself. Touch has the air of a woman comfortable with her maturity and relaxed in her expanding musical universe.

People in the jazz community, particularly pianists in awe of Williams's consistency, creativity and constant growth, often discuss why so many critics and the business side of jazz seem deaf to her brilliance. Whatever the reasons, they must be sociological, political or cultural. They cannot be musical, not with her decades of development into an artist who can sit at a piano in a night club and create a masterpiece like Touch.

- Doug Ramsey, JazzTimes Contributor, author, veteran jazz critic

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Artist's Liner Notes:

Touch inside

Above: All design and artwork by John Bishop @

piano

above photo by Jessica Williams

Liner notes for TOUCH by Jessica Williams / Label: OriginArts

This program was recorded in its entirety on January 7, 2010, at The Triple Door in Seattle. The "Trip" has a 280-seat capacity and is converted from what was once a movie theatre into what is now a dinner theatre and concert house. It has a fine Steinway D - that's a nine-footer - which has made it my favorite place on the West Coast to play. I recorded my last release for Origin Arts, "The Art of the Piano", on the same piano in the same venue.

I have two pianos in my life at present that afford me the pleasure of great intimacy and profound response: the aforementioned Steinway 'D' at The Trip, and the 7-foot, 6-inch 1984 Yamaha Conservatory Concert Grand with Blue Renner Hammers at my home. Both are refined and kept in perfect condition by the gifted master technician, Ryan Sowers. A fine technician (as opposed to a piano tuner) is very hard to find, and Ryan is my man when it comes to making my piano purr.

To a great extent, my touch on the piano is my singular "voice". It is one of my most outstanding and recognizable features as a pianist. I have repeatedly been told by musicians, critics, and the public in general that they know it's me almost immediately when they hear my works on the radio, just from my touch. The same is true of the late Bill Evans (I had the incredible honor of opening for him on several occasions and getting to know him a bit). Bill and I shared a similar regard for the importance of touch and the generation of tonal color. We spoke several times about the difficulties of bringing these subtle but striking bits of technique to the stage, often on a different piano every night, or to a piano that had been bludgeoned by a "heavy-handed piano player", who oft-times was a very good piano player. But a piano player nonetheless, and not a pianist.

Every night for two weeks - up until mere days before his death - I watched this superb, sublime artist make a full-house of his fans cry, myself included, partially because he was obviously very sick, but mainly because he chose so many ballads and played them with such color, clarity, depth, and passion that he overcame the limitations of a devastating disease, and of a piano that had withstood years of every sort of abuse imaginable. The longer he played, the more the piano responded to his brilliant musicianship and signature touch.

Touch cover

above photo by Jimmy and Deana Katz @

Encountering a fine solo pianist has become a rare experience, and being emotionally moved by one is rarer still. Playing alone requires competence, confidence, a style that is all one's own, originality, a body of one's own work, and courage. I believe that any musician, be it drummer, bassist, violinist, harpist, or any other instrumentalist you can think of, should be able to go on-stage, alone, and keep a crowd rapt and attentive for at least 75 minutes. I remember master drummer Max Roach and his hi-hat, all alone on stage together, doing just that.

I also remind myself that life is not a contest… and nor is music. True music is not about the player, except to the extent that the player can render the music in an emotional form that touches and moves, changes and enlightens the listener. During a performance, I may stop pieces mid-way if they don't suit me, and start again. I mumble things to myself, and I speak to the audience, always letting them know what I think I'm up to, including what I want to be up to. I never make the people feel as if they are listening to something that they are not smart enough to comprehend. If it's impossible for them to understand, you can bet I won't have a clue either. A lot of the "new music", accompanied by unintelligible piano miseries and drum sophistry, all underpinned by fallacious bass playing, is one good reason to pursue a career in solo piano, if only to balance the scales of good and evil.

And so, I explore! Seek. Invent. Discover. Take chances. Find the Holy Grail within the thicket of notes that spring up around me every time I play. I no longer direct the music. The music takes me where it wants to go. I choose a vehicle, and that is all. If I can not find one that suits me well, I make one up on the spot, or I write one… I have written three hundred of my own compositions so far… and I find myself not wanting to play things that have been played and made famous by other artists. The exception to this rule is a tune like "Goodbye, Porkpie Hat", also known as "Theme for Lester Young", by the great Charles Mingus. I play it because it has been part of me since I first heard Mingus play it fifty years ago. It's in my bones and blood. And when you listen to my own "Gail's Song", you'll hear Mingus in there, and you'll hear Booker Ervin and Booker Little and Jackie Byard and Mingus himself: dum-dum-dum-dum-duuum, descending, on that full bass of his, with those big calloused hands and that soft way he had of talking and singing as he played, conducting the whole band with his bass and his will. I hope you can hear Mingus like I do in that tune… I hope you can hear the orchestra within the piano.

Back cover

above photo by Elaine Arc @

I used to pound on the piano like it was a set of drums. I admit it! But a piano is no longer a percussion instrument for me. It is first and foremost a stringed instrument, with an enormous palette of colors; it is a symphonic instrument. It is a magic box full of feelings and memories, tears and laughter, losses and longing, joy and contentment, passion and fullness of spirit. I have spent a lifetime crafting the key to that box. It is my personal magic, my voice, my destiny. It always has been, and it always will be. Even after I no longer have the wits or the coordination to play, it will remain my magic box, and I will dream of it. In my dreams, I and it will be as one entity. Pure and simple beauty.

I have been pursuing solo playing, almost to the exclusion of all other musical forms. I often burn incense and chant before I play. To play alone and to touch other people in their heart, one's own heart must be pure and open. When my fingers touch the keys, they must be steady, gentle, and sure… and I must be able to hear the songs that are already in the air around me. I often have no idea of what I'm going to play. So recording proceedings like these may appear risky. I had been classically trained to believe that a live performance never allowed the "take-twoness" of a recording. This is a "rule" that I have decided to break quite often.

At this concert, I played several pieces halfway through, only to stop dead and start again with a second take, right there in front of all those people. And nobody there cared one whit. They understood without prior explanation that art is process - and process is sometimes messy. Life and art are likewise often messy.

You, my audience, have taught me so much about playing and living, accepting and loving… others, and myself, too. Messes and all!

Photo by Elaine Arc

above photo by Elaine Arc @

All-in-all, I feel very comfortable with these pieces of my heart. The piano was as in-tune as any reasonably sane human could possibly expect, thanks to my technician, Ryan. This playing I present to you here would be impossible on an out-of-tune instrument...

I was present when Bill Evans played an out-of-tune piano into tune, something that I can do on occasion, and something that one may be able to do by sheer will, by the hearing of the proper sound over the dissonant one. To do this, many pianists unconsciously start to sing quietly in tune, to cover the offending notes and overtones.

Glenn Gould's answer to an out-of-tune piano was to sing heartily and unabashedly
along with it like an opera singer, to the general annoyance of his audiences and his recording engineers. The more out-of-tune the piano was, the louder he would sing. Often the piano would relent (or perhaps the listener's ears adjusted to the din) and Glenn would sing more quietly as the piece wore on. Perhaps he just got hoarse. It's impossible to know for sure, but he did admit to singing more loudly during performances on which the piano was not "up to him." Singing a Bach three-part invention is something of a feat in itself, but when Glenn was up to it, one could hardly fault him, as the music was magnificently executed at unimaginable tempi, even if it WAS accompanied by "de-da-da-dee-da-parumpf-dum-DA" in a voice that was, by turns, soprano, then tenor, then bass, complete with flailing arm movements during triumphant passages. He even conducted himself when he had a free hand.

Someone once said that watching Gould play was like watching a man having an argument with himself. I find this wonderful and hilarious and completely acceptable, given his contribution to the art of the piano. I love him for this.

I make it a point to keep my piano and those on which I perform in tune, so I seem less afflicted by this urge to warble. Erroll Garner grunted, Oscar Peterson keened, Keith Jarrett vocalizes, but none of it bothers me. It's the rapture of the music I hear. I just can't sing, and that serves all of us.

On this album you'll hear pretty much what I and the audience heard on January 7, 2010. I've taken to playing one set only, as classical performers do, and usually that set lasts for 80 or 90 minutes. I've edited out the "take-twos" and my small-talk, but done very little else except order the tunes and cull some of my not-so-favorites.

In summary, I chose the pieces here mainly for their simplicity and their use of space. Nothing much in life is either spacious or simple anymore, and so I release these creations into the wild with hopes that some listeners may find their qualities healing, life-affirming, and filled with the joy and the rapture with which they were made.

Love each other. - Jessica Williams, Jan 28, 2010

Jessica's Hands

above photo by Elaine Arc @

TOUCH / Jessica Williams, Solo Piano, Live in Seattle

Jessica Williams, Live in solo performance on the Main Stage of The Triple Door in Seattle WA
PRODUCED BY JESSICA WILLIAMS AND JOHN BISHOP
Recorded January 7, 2010, by Craig Montgomery
Piano is a Steinway 'D' 9-foot Concert Grand
Piano Technician Ryan Sowers, pianova.net
Technical assistant Will Kane
Photos of Jessica by Jimmy Katz or Elaine Arc
Liner notes by Jessica Williams
All compositions by Jessica Williams are published by JJW Music/ASCAP

Peace and freedom, JW 6.20.10

 

 

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