The fusion of jazz and classical music, despite numerous attempts over the last century or more, remains a devilishly difficult enterprise. The challenges stem from the fact that jazz is, to some major degree, created in the act of performance, while classical music, even when specifically turned over to performer options, relies in a fundamentally different way on the notion of compositional control. The best fusions (and
Gershwin's still have not been topped) manage to fix jazz spontaneity in a frame, to take a musical snapshot of jazz-like invention and then apply some level of formal technique derived from the classical tradition. These works by
Jeffrey Chappell, a classically trained pianist who has turned to jazz, intermittently achieve this feeling of spontaneity.
Chappell's materials don't have the energy of something created on the run, pushing against barriers. But he comes at the problem a different way: he is adept at re-creating different jazz styles and at putting them together in musical dialogues. He has a simple melodic idiom, presented in its purest form in the cleverly titled Pop Songs Without Words, and also used to provide lyrical interludes in larger structures (the two works' designated sonatas pay fairly close attention to the formal features implied by the word) marked by the use of jazz styles running from swing to post-bop. The most effective piece on the album is the final Banana Jam, with a forward energy that erupts in foot-stomping on the pianist's part, but the entire album approaches the jazz/classical fusion challenge in an unusual way.