LARRY WILLIS – An Appreciation

By Fritz Byers

In the early years of the Murphy’s Jazz Masters program, we brought the pianist Larry Willis to play in Toledo.  There were day-time educational features, as usual, and the night gig was, of course, at Murphy’s, back when it was still in the original location on Madison. If memory serves, Buster Williams was the bassist.  I can’t quite bring the occupant of the drum seat back to mind; it likely was Lewis Nash, but maybe I’m half-transposing the name, and it was Victor Lewis.  Joan Russell would know, but she’s not here any longer.

The original Murphy’s was a wonderful place to listen to music.  Who would have thought Joan and Clifford would improve on it when they moved to Water Street, a place that I’ve maintained, here and elsewhere, was as beautiful a jazz club as existed anywhere, and as sonically appealing.  

The night with Larry Willis’s trio was an occasion, exceptionally rare in my experience, when there was just something off from the start.  You could hear it, now and then.  But more, you could see it in the exchanges of facial expressions among the musicians.  Larry stopped a tune mid-way through, and there were a few other eruptions that I’m going to allow to disperse into lost time without recounting them. 

This all doubtless colored Larry’s mood, during our talks between sets and post-performance.  And that, in turn, affected how I’ve thought, in the years since, about Larry and his pianism.  Silly, I know, but true.

A few nights ago, the invisible hand of shuffleplay brought up Larry’s tune, “Ethiopia,” specifically the version on his 2007 recording for High Note, The Offering.  It’s mostly a trio date, Larry with the bassist Eddie Gomez and the drummer Billy Drummond; the tenor saxophonist Eric Alexander joins for three numbers   Propelled by the chance meeting with “Ethiopia,” I listened to the entire release that night, and again the following morning.   

What a revelation!  What a joyous discovery!  Many times have musicians mentioned Larry in talking about their favorites, which should have cleared things up for me.  And if more proof was needed, his discography shows he was for decades a first-call sideman for nearly any authentic jazz setting.  

But my two concentrated listening tours through The Offering were what it took.  And since then, it’s been almost all Larry, all the time, mostly his dates as a leader, usually of a trio, occasionally augmented by a horn, as on The Offering.  And a special treat was his 2011 solo date, This Time the Dream’s on Me.  

His rhythmic drive is what first caught my ears as I listened my way through his work.  I remembered him as a powerful presence at the keys, and it was nice to hear that this wasn’t just an aftershock of an off-key night at Murphy’s.  He has a nearly Tatumesque strong left hand, and when he stops his dazzling single-note runs and gives a tune back to its chordal harmonies, it can sound (and feel) like an avalanche.

Perhaps it’s just a mood, or the contrast to the pianist I recall from nearly thirty years ago, that leads me with surprise to hear in Larry a deeply melodic ballad artist and a composer of great range and depth.  The aforementioned “Ethiopia” is a marvelous piece.  Its vastness and facets can be absorbed, at least in part, by listening to both the darkling trio version on The Offering and the intriguingly contrasting quartet version, with Kenny Garrett on alto, from the 1988 date, My Funny Valentine.  The latter recording is given over mostly to standards, including an illumination of Monk’s “Rhythm-a-Ning” and a predictably affecting treatment of Billy Strayhorn’s masterpiece, “Blood Count.”  It’s a maverlous recording.

I’m ever so happy to have met Larry anew in this way.  And how lucky that, as I was lost in inattention, he left us with so many rich pleasures.

You’ll hear extensive selections from Larry’s recordings this Saturday on Jazz Spectrum and Jazz Spectrum Overnight.