Keith Jarrett -《Paris / London: Testament》(圣约)[3CDs][FLAC]
专辑英文名: Paris / London: Testament
专辑中文名: 圣约
歌手: Keith Jarrett
音乐风格: 爵士
资源格式: FLAC
版本: [3CDs]
发行时间: 2009年10月06日
地区: 德国
语言: 英语
简介:
出品厂牌：ECM Records
唱片编号：ECM 2130, ECM 2131, ECM 2132
音乐风格：Jazz, Post Bop, Modern Creative, Piano
专辑时长：2:42:18
推荐指数：★★★★★
试听站点：Amazon.com
专辑介绍：
『如果你选择要上台演奏，就要当作那是你生命最后一次的绝响。』
这句话是 奇斯·杰瑞﹝Keith Jarrett﹞告诫他的学生身为音乐家一种敬业的态度、更是能将自身的限界发挥至极限的法则，历史上有无数的艺术经典都是处於在艰苦难熬的处境下而诞生，如此纵情地燃烧生命泉源所释放出来的能量是可观的、可敬的、一种震撼且能慑服人心的耀眼光辉，并永存於世。
在这套3-CD Set中收录了Keith Jarrett於2008年末在巴黎的普莱耶尔音乐厅与伦敦皇家音乐厅的两场现场演出，距离《卡内基音乐厅现场》已有三年之久，今次带来更多元面相的即兴演绎，两场共长达170分鐘的展演，採取短调的模式牵引出更强大、恣意无碍的情感释放，成熟稳重与年轻衝劲兼具的从容气魄。
Keith Jarrett指出他在三度与妻子离异以及身体孱弱的双重打击下，几乎面临音乐旅途的停滞阶段，而在与ECM制作人Manfred Eicher的偶遇面谈后，给予了他『无论是你个人或是音乐生涯，只要你向前迈进，任何事情都没有办法阻止你。』的諫言，Jarrett含泪的鞠躬道别，洗刷了精神上的屈辱，前往心无罣碍的崭新境界，进而获得了无与伦比的充沛能量，取而代之的是这两场应被后世奉为钢琴独奏圭臬的绝顶之作。
无论是在哪个面相来看，《圣约》﹝Testament﹞专辑都是一个无可取代的里程碑，对近代音乐、ECM、对Keith Jarrett本人更如是，与其说是技术的高度提升、不如说是他更将音乐昇华为精神层面的领域，锻造出瑰丽的崇高狂喜，也赋予了ECM四十週年纪念一份最完美的礼物。
这次，没有10年前的藕断丝连，也没有早期PARIS的过份浪漫耽情。这次，Keith给的，是他这过去30-40年来，对生命的感念，及每一个生命moment裏所产生的即时意义，都是如此的可贵和价值，让我一买到后，立刻一口气三张听完，虽然累，但真的是感动，真的好久没听这么好的音乐了。也能算的上是Keith Jarrett晚年所有solo作品的集大成，经典中的经典，真的建议喜爱Keith的人一定要买来听听。
这张专辑，裏面附了Keith少见的自述（见下文“From the Artist”引用章节），述及70年如何从Piano Solo裏一路走来，到Jarrett TRIO的重心发展，再回到如今的solo，以及婚变、再婚、生病等人生一系列的打击，最后还是回到自己最喜爱的音乐来，无法也无可避免的让这张现场独奏会的录音专辑，产生了无以比拟的神情，再加上这又是Keith在失去老婆后第一次登场SOLO的PARIS和LONDON独奏会，从中更可以听到Keith又回到早期 Koln Concert时，那种不用为了tune任何音符而自然流溢出来的琴音，再次的征服了我的心灵，也让我一口气没有休息的听完了整整将近2小时50分的三片CD，更让我深刻体会到，他就好像禪师，没有任何佛法，只给了你这样的空间和时间，让你瞬间入了空，让我想到了最近读的书上，提到弘一大师有名的提字"无法可得"，Keith 现在的音乐，可以说，已是到了这个境界了吧!
Keith Jarrett简介
引用
在爵士音乐史上，很少有乐手具有象钢琴演奏家Keith Jarrett那样的才华。也许，许多Keith Jarrett乐迷都是在最初接触到他的音乐时就被其中的多样性所吸引，对他们来说，Jarrett的音乐打开了一扇门，门内是一片崭新的爵士乐天地，同时也是Keith Jarrett的内心世界。
一般而言，黑人爵士乐手在演奏时会更注重感官上的刺激，以达到情感宣泄的目的，他们所缺乏的是一种更为具象的思考；白人爵士乐手虽然注重了理性，但从本源上讲，爵士乐是一种黑人音乐，白人的情感较难触及其泥土中的根。尽管Keith Jarrett是白人，但他在演奏时嘴里总爱下意识地哼着旋律。这一点很象许多黑人爵士乐手，也许，Jarrett天生就是演奏爵士乐的人，他在情感与理智间寻找到了一个很好的平衡。
Keith Jarrett于1945年5月8日出生在美国宾夕法尼亚州的艾伦镇(Allentown)。他的父母很早就发现了他的音乐天赋，于是，在Jarrett仅3岁时，他们便请人向他传授钢琴，不久后，Jarrett开始尝试作曲。他6岁时举行了首场个人音乐会。音乐会结束时，Jarrett还演奏了两首自己创作的曲子。
Keith Jarrett从小所受的是正统的古典音乐教育，而对爵士乐产生兴趣是在10岁以后。最初，他是Stan Kenton开设的爵士课程中最年幼的学员，之后，他跟随了Fred Waring的乐队四处巡演。60年代中期，Jarrett结束了波士顿“伯克利音乐学校”为期一年的学业前往纽约发展。一次在Village Vanguard的偶然演出中他被鼓手Art Blakey相中，并加入了Blakey的“New Jazz Messengers”(新爵士使者乐队)。不久，Keith Jarrett转入了萨克斯风手、自由爵士音乐家Charles Lloyd的四重奏。同时，Jarrett与Bill Evans的鼓手Paul Motian以及Ornette Coleman的贝司手Charlie Haden组成了“Keith Jarrett三重奏”。这样的组合绝非巧合，它反映了Bill Evans以及自由爵士乐对于Jarrett的影响。
Keith Jarrett很少演奏电钢琴，他曾坦言自己不喜欢电子化的音乐。但这并不妨碍Miles Davis邀请Jarrett加入他的乐队的诚意，在Miles Davis的几次盛情相邀之下，Keith Jarrett成为了Miles Davis的“Fusion”(融合爵士)团体的次席键盘手。在Miles Davis的专辑《菲尔摩音乐会》中，Jarrett协助Davis登上了Fusion的的巅峰。
如果说，60年代的Keith Jarrett被Thelonious Mank、Bill Evans、McCoy Tyner等大师的光芒所盖过，那70年代则是他大放异彩的时代。他很少以伴奏乐手的身份出现，而他的作品也总是在爵士与古典间徘徊。70年代初，Keith Jarrett在原有三重奏的基础上引进了次中音萨克斯风手Dewey Redman，组成了第一支四重奏乐队，这支乐队以演奏先锋爵士乐为主。而在1974年，Jarrett又与挪威萨克斯风手Jan Garbarek组建了一支欧洲四重奏，这时，Jarrett加入了主流的行列，偏重旋律的优美性。时光在Keith Jarrett的音乐里总是交织在一起，就象他能在最捉摸不定的时候让人感动，而又在最抒情的片刻闪烁出迷人的智慧。
Keith Jarrett在70年代后沉迷于钢琴独奏，他的此类专辑为爵士钢琴独奏开辟了新纪元。Jarrett的独奏强调完全的即兴，他为ECM公司录制的开山之作《Facing You》(面对你)就是一张几乎在录音室内即兴完成的独奏专辑；而《Kln Concert》(科隆音乐会)则是新一代乐手竞争效仿的钢琴独奏的典范。
虽然，Keith Jarrett的即兴才能在爵士乐坛是有口皆碑的，但他在平时练习时却从不演奏爵士乐，取而代之的是演奏贝多芬、巴赫等他钟爱的古典音乐家的作品。在专辑《In The Light》(置身光亮)中，Jarrett录制了赋格、铜管四重奏、弦乐四重奏以及室内乐等诸多古典化作品。
博采众长是Keith Jarrett音乐的特征，而情感则是Keith Jarrett永恒的主题，它贯穿了Jarrett所有的作品中，这使得他在刚出道时就显得那么与众不同。Jarrett的风格除了受到爵士乐手Bill Evans与Ornette Coleman的影响外，还受到了现代作曲家巴托克、伯格、拉威尔以及黑人宗教音乐、乡村音乐甚至世界音乐的影响。除了演奏钢琴外，Jarrett还擅长演奏萨克斯风、鼓与吉他。
无论诠释何种音乐，Keith Jarrett总流露出朴实、美好、健康的情感与交响乐般的丰富性。Keith Jarrett不是最有影响力的爵士钢琴手，但无疑，他是最具现代感的钢琴演奏家之一。
Album Intro:
引用
This is a specially-packaged, specially-priced three CD set. Improvised, solo music from the great American pianist, recorded at two concerts that took place at the end of last year. In his liner notes, Keith gives a highly personal account of the music s inspirational genesis, which is outstanding, even by his own high standards, with powerful emotions never far from the music s surface. These are recordings to put alongside the very finest in Jarrett s solo idiom. The open format, embracing much music in shorter episodes, follows a pattern similar to that found on Radiance, but there are also flashes of the existential poetic flair which made, for instance, the Sun Bear Concerts such a special musical experience. The release of Testament coincides with the 40th anniversary of the ECM label.
Jarrett's solo concert tradition continues with two highly creative performances of recent vintage – from Paris's Salle Pleyel on November 26, 2008, followed by London's Royal Festival Hall on December 1. The English date was Jarrett's first London solo concert in many years and, in the words of one reviewer, "triggered the sort of ecstasy that might greet a returning prophet". As with "Radiance" and "The Carnegie Hall Concert", the music covers a wide arc of expression, as "that old Jarrett magic forges majestically on" (The Guardian).
At the end of 2008, Keith Jarrett added two concerts to his schedule at short notice – one at Paris's Salle Pleyel (November 26), one at London's Royal Festival Hall (December 1) . The music on "Testament" is from these concerts. Their range is compendious, Jarrett's improvisational imagination continually uncovering new forms, in a music stirred by powerful emotions. In his liner notes, the pianist is forthright about the personal circumstances promoting a need to lose himself in the work once more.
He also reminds the reader/listener that "it is not natural to sit at a piano, bring no material, clear your mind completely of musical ideas and play something that is of lasting value and brand new." This, however, has been the history and substance of the solo concerts since Jarrett initiated them, almost forty years ago . Over time their connection to 'jazz' has often become tenuous, yet Jarrett's solo concerts, with the foregrounding of melody and the continual building, and relinquishing, of structure, are also removed from "free improvisation" as a genre. Jarrett's solo work is effectively its own idiom, and has been subject to periodic revisions by the pianist. "In the early part of this decade, I tried to bring the format back: starting from nothing and building a universe."
Since the "Radiance" album and the "Tokyo Solo" DVD of 2002 Jarrett has been adjusting the flow of the work, more often working with shorter blocks of material. "I continued to find a wealth of music inside this open format, stopping whenever the music told me to." This approach distinguished "The Carnegie Hall Concert" (2006), and it is most effectively deployed in "Testament" , where the strongly-contrasting elements of the sections of the Paris concert in particular have the logic of a spontaneously-composed suite. The nerves-bared London performance (the first UK solo show in 18 years) is different again: "The concert went on and, though the beginning was a dark, searching, multi-tonal melodic triumph, by the end it somehow became a throbbing, never-to-be-repeated pulsing rock band of a concert (unless it was a church service, in which case, Hallelujah!)."
In the end, the improviser does what must be done. As Keith Jarrett said, a long time ago, "If you're a rock climber, once you're halfway up the face of the cliff, you have to keep moving, you have to keep going somewhere. And that's what I do, I find a way."
These days, however, Jarrett is rationing the number of ascents: there have been less than thirty solo concerts in the last decade, making "Testament" a special event indeed. Two further solo performances are scheduled for 2009 – at the Palais des Beaux Arts in Brussels on October 9, and at Berlin's Philharmonie on October 12.
From the Artist
引用
Since Heidelberg, Germany in the early 70's I have done improvised piano solo concerts. It all started, however, back when I was a six or seven-year-old so-called "child prodigy," studying and playing classical recitals for the Allentown Pa. Women's Club, etc. The programs would usually include masters such as Mozart or Schubert, Chopin or Debussy, but would also include something I "wrote." But this "writing" wasn't executed at all the same each time. Almost nothing was written down on paper. There were motifs and melodies that remained the same, but then around these were "takeoffs" in the same mood. The pieces were almost always "program" music. There was "Jungle Suite," for example. When I would be practicing at home, I would often change the notes of some composer, and my mother would catch this at times. I told her not to worry: I would play it as written at the concert. Heidelberg was a university town and had a jazz festival. I started my part of the evening by playing a tune, but somehow did not stop. Instead, I connected the tune to the next one by continuing on some sort of journey or transition to it. So, by the end of the set, I hadn't stopped playing. I was then married to my first wife, Margot. Over the years since then, solo piano concerts became more "abstract" and somehow they would grow from small seeds planted spontaneously at the beginning. But they still lasted the entire 45 minutes or so, then a break, then another 45 minutes. They were kind of epic journeys into the unknown. The architecture, however, over many years, became too predictable to me, and I stopped doing so many of these and concentrated on my quartets and writing. After my divorce from Margot, I lived for 30 years with my second wife, Rose Anne. I attempted several times to re-invent the solo concerts, but among other things was laid low for about two years with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. The amount of energy these concerts took was always amazing to me. It was like the Olympics each time. So there was a certain off-and-on quality to my scheduling them. While many incredibly good concerts came about, some were not recorded. In the early part of this decade, I tried to bring the format back: starting from nothing and building a universe. But somehow, while practicing in my studio, I realized that much of what I was playing was stuff I had liked before, but actively did not like now. Whenever I would play something that was from the past and sounded mechanical, I would stop. This led me to try to include this starting and stopping in solo concerts in Japan. The music from this particular first attempt was to become "Radiance." I continued to find a wealth of music inside this open format, stopping whenever the music told me to, and eventually released "The Carnegie Hall Concert" in 2006. Although I seemed to others to be some kind of freak of nature, the amount of preparation work, mental, physical, and emotional is probably beyond anybody's imagination (including my own). It is NOT natural to sit at a piano, bring no material, clear your mind completely of musical ideas, and play something that is of lasting value and brand new (not to mention that these are live concerts, and the audience's role was of utmost chemical importance: they could change the potential and shape of the music easier than the difference of pianos or hall sound). I then did a series of solo concerts in Japan in the spring of 2008 that seemed to hit a technical high-note in the history of my solo events. I wasn't sure what could possibly happen next after these concerts. Then my wife left me (this was the third time in four years). I quickly scrambled to stay alive (music had been my life for 60 years) by setting up a Carnegie Hall Concert (a leaflet inserted into the program for my 25th Anniversary trio concert there in October 2008 advertised a solo concert in late January 2009), but before I did that concert, Steve Cloud managed to quickly come up with two solo concerts in Europe: Paris and London. I had not played solo in London for, I believe, 18 years. These were the first solo events since my wife had left. I was in an incredibly vulnerable emotional state, but I admit to wondering whether this might not be a "good" thing for the music. It truly didn't matter; I had to do them. Everything was put together in a dizzyingly short time. I had to find help for packing and touring (I had lots of physical ailments that prevented me from being pro-active on the physical fronts, plus stress, plus an emptiness that was overwhelming, etc.). I decided that if I backed down now, I would back down forever. I used to tell my piano students, "If you're going to play, play like it's the last time." It was not theoretical advice anymore; this was real. This was either going to achieve my survival or hasten my demise. I had no idea how much energy I would have, though I prepared well (but all along I never remembered just how much it took to do these concerts). Startlingly, Paris was an achievement I never expected. Manfred Eicher and the rest of my touring ensemble (minus one) were backstage eating dinner. It started then to be clear to me that I had a new chance at something, that nothing would stop me if only I stayed awake to the possibilities, both musical and personal. Many of the people I knew seemed to feel they were just meeting me. I was in tears going on and offstage for bows. On the way into London, I had as close a brush with a nervous breakdown as I've had. Christmas shoppers were all out holding hands; the place was way too colorful for my mood. I was exhausted from Paris (only two days had gone by) and stuck in an unmoving traffic jam in the middle of London in a car without my wife, looking out the window at couples, Christmas lights, and seemingly-normal unbounded joy. I couldn't handle it. When we finally got to the room I closed all the curtains (they also looked out at lit-up Christmas trees) and tried breathing normally. Two days later we drove to the hall (the limo driver was on my side, he perked up my spirits), I checked the piano, went backstage to see what we had for dinner, was introduced to the catering lady, who was as sharp as anyone around and had just lost her lover after some time together. I said I couldn't help thinking about my wife, and she quietly (but firmly) pointed to a blank, white wall. We shot short, pointed one-liners back and forth during dinner, and I realized all these people, unwittingly, were helping me get myself together. The concert went on and, though the beginning was a dark, searching, multi-tonal melodic triumph, by the end it somehow became a throbbing, never-to-be-repeated, pulsing rock band of a concert (unless it was a church service, in which case, Hallelujah!). I needed heat therapy on my arms afterwards (first time ever). Even the people backstage as I came off in tears again were giving off the exactly right thing. Communication is all. Being is all. People are deep, serious creatures with little to hang on to. So, loss may be a big thing, but what remains becomes even more important than ever. Just never let go of the thread. And be honest with yourself. A writer I greatly admire and with whom I was just recently in touch, echoed some of my words to her when she wrote back to me: "How fragile and serendipitous things are indeed, unbearably so." ~Keith Jarrett
Artist:
Keith Jarrett - piano
