Print
Email
Share
DETROIT — First novels are often thinly disguised autobiographies, so why should a first piano concerto be any different? Michel Camilo’s Piano Concerto No. 1, which the 55-year-old jazz pianist performs with the Detroit Symphony Orchestra this week, describes most of the key influences in his musical life.
In its blend of Afro-Caribbean rhythms, classical forms and jazz, including two improvised cadenzas, the concerto reflects Camilo’s extensive classical training in his native Dominican Republic, his discovery of jazz at 14, his first encounters with the creative energy of New York in the late ‘70s and his subsequent career as a leading figure in Latin jazz. The piece showcases the Lisztian bravura of his technique and the sunshine enthusiasm that have become his trademarks.
“Writing the piece was like taking a look back and celebrating the roots, the transition and the future — all the possibilities that were in front of me,” says Camilo.
This week’s performances mark Camilo’s introduction as the DSO’s jazz creative director, a two-year appointment. In May he’ll return to perform with his trio, and he’ll be back next season to give the American premiere of his Second Piano Concerto with the DSO.
Camilo’s appointment grew out of his friendship with DSO music director Leonard Slatkin.
It was Slatkin who commissioned Camilo to write his First Piano Concerto and led the premiere with the National Symphony in Washington, D.C., in 1998. Slatkin was slated to conduct this week’s performances, before his heart attack on Nov. 1 forced him to cancel his appearances for the month. Young American conductor Andrew Grams will substitute.
“Michel’s work bears all his signature compositional traits: virtuosity, melodic invention and spiky Latin-infused rhythm,” Slatkin wrote in an e-mail. “He exemplifies everything that should be true of all of us in the profession; he loves the music and is not afraid to show it.”
Camilo spoke by phone last week from Madrid, where he was in the midst of a solo piano tour. Camilo has been to Europe five times in 2009 in various guises, including work with his trio and concerts with orchestras. The year also has included two trips to Japan and tours of America and the Caribbean. He spends seven months a year on the road, traveling with his wife of 35 years, who also functions as his manager.
Born in Santo Domingo, Camilo began playing the piano by ear at 4 1/2, quickly started writing his own songs and entered the conservatory at 9. By age 16, he was the youngest member of the National Symphony Orchestra of the Dominican Republic.
But the turning point in his life came at 14 when he heard a recording on the radio of Art Tatum playing “Tea for Two.” Tatum, who died in 1956, was one of the great virtuosos of the century in or out of jazz, and the dazzling, at times surreal rush of his variations stopped Camilo cold.
“I fell in love,” said Camilo. “When I found out that this was improvised music, the challenge attracted me. It’s like instant composition. I wanted that challenge, that risk element, to be part of my life.”
Camilo began to digest the work of jazz pianists like Bill Evans and Oscar Peterson, eventually discovering contemporary voices like McCoy Tyner, Herbie Hancock, Keith Jarrett and Chick Corea. He came to New York in 1979 to study composition at the Juilliard School and Mannes College. At night, he began exploring the jam sessions around the city and connecting with a generation of musicians who were bringing new levels of sophistication to the merger of jazz harmony and Latin rhythms.
Camilo played with Tito Puente and saxophonist Paquito D’Rivera before starting his own band in 1986. About a decade later he was working at the Blue Note in New York when Slatkin, who was guest conducting the New York Philharmonic, came to hear him on the recommendation of the classical pianists Katia and Marielle Labeque.
Slatkin made a beeline for Camilo’s dressing room after the show. “What can we do together?” he asked the pianist.
“We could do Bartok, Ravel, Gershwin — I’m classically trained.”
“No, something of yours.”
“Well, it doesn’t exist, but I can write it.”
“OK, you’re on!”
Classical fusions with jazz go back nearly a century, but the challenge remains the same — to create forms that strike the ear as organic rather than a graft of incongruous styles. Camilo says he didn’t think about the problem.
“I just think music and write what comes out,” he said. “But I wanted to write a piano concerto, not a jazz concerto. I didn’t want it to be just a springboard for jazz improvisation. I wanted to develop the motifs with a classical point of view. So it’s all intertwined.”
