Pianist
Steven Mayer is either a very brave man or a very foolhardy man -- or both. Even superstar classical pianists like
Vladimir Horowitz and
Sergei Rachmaninoff were dumbstruck when they ventured into the depths of New York City to hear
Art Tatum, the most astounding jazz pianist of the 20th century. Undaunted,
Mayer -- who is one mean technician himself, with recordings of
Liszt and the hugely difficult
Ives "Concord" Sonata behind him -- went ahead and recorded 17 numbers that
Tatum himself cut, in what Naxos purports to be "the exact way that
Tatum made famous." Um...not quite, for this is not a virtual
Tatum album, literally or even stylistically. There is no doubt that
Mayer has lots of dexterity and a better feeling for a jazz pulse than most classical pianists. Understandably,
Mayer doesn't even attempt to replicate every note of what
Tatum actually played; rather, these are improvisations on improvisations, which is more truthful to the jazz tradition. Yet they do not even begin to approximate the daring of
Tatum's harmonic thought; his unpredictable shifts in rhythm; his barely reined-in outbreaks of wild super-stride; his outrageously rapid runs, classical quotes, and shafts of naïve humor.
Mayer's rhythm tends to be quite regular in comparison to
Tatum's, more in a traditional stride manner.
Mayer's touch is heavier, and he applies some of
Tatum's trademark flourishes in a self-conscious way. That said, listeners who can put the
Tatum originals out of their minds briefly can find much attractive piano playing to enjoy here, and a few tunes (like "Yesterdays" and "I Know That You Know") do come closer than others in evoking the
Tatum style. Moreover, an hour of
Mayer isn't nearly as fatiguing to the ear as an hour of
Tatum can be if you are concentrating on every passage. But you won't get the electric charge that the originals, when heard one at a time, can provide. ~ Richard S. Ginell