Carol Sloane’s blog piece about her short career in music academia recently inspired a Rifftides item about singers who misfire. Sloane’s followup story recounts the time early in her career when she shared a bill with Oscar Peterson and impressed him, in a way.
I was singing at THE Village Vanguard; I was opening for one of the world’s greatest JAZZ pianists. Was I not therefore A JAZZ SINGER??? And what do jazz singers do? They improvise! To hell with a boring, simple melody. It needed some embellishment, some “jazzing up”. And so I commenced to work around, above and below the line every time I sang it. After one or two of these seriously flawed attempts to improve on Mr. Weill’s melody, Oscar took notice.
He’d say: “Carol. Sing “My Ship”, and of course I was flattered that my rendition so impressed the Great Man. He’d sit in the shadows on the banquette just to my left. Each night I sang with my usual abandon, and each night I’d eagerly look toward him, expecting acknowledgement for my inventiveness. Instead, his was a dead-pan expression, PopEye-like biceps firmly fixed across his expansive upper torso. Buddha displeased.
To get the whole story, go here.