"What was it like to sing with ..." Oscar Peterson

With Coleman Hawkins.

Newport, 1962

   This is the first of a series of vignettes called

"What was it like to sing with ..."

which occurred during my 60+ years of performing

with some of the most famous musicians and singers 

of all time.  

  

That moment when everything blends,
you and your audience are in sync ...

* * * * * * * * * * * 

What was it like to sing with Oscar Peterson ...

Very often in the 1960's, I was hired as an Opening Act in those Clubs  that presented "a singer/a comic" format.  That concept was standard at the hungry i in San Francisco, Mr. Kelly's in Chicago, The Blue Angel and The Village Vanguard in New York.  And so I found myself opening for Jackie Mason and The Smothers Brothers in Chicago, for Phyllis Diller, Woody Allen and Lenny Bruce in New York, for Richard Pryor and Bill Cosby in San Francisco.  Those were all interesting, challenging, often hilarious experiences, even thrilling in one instance.

I met Oscar Peterson when legendary club owner Max Gordon invited me to sing a twenty-five to thirty minute set opener for a two-week engagement at The Village Vanguard in 1961.  I had just received very favorable press at Newport a few weeks before, so people seemed curious about me. Imagine it: After my set, I would sit down among the other Oscar Peterson fans in the packed room, and collect a pay check for all that fun.  It was on one of these nights Oscar told me this very funny story about Art Tatum.

At a gig one night, Tatum was being relentlessly hounded by a man who begged and pleaded to be allowed to sing just one song with the great man. Tatum kept refusing, the pest kept insisting.  Mr. Tatum  finally relented, and up to the stage leapt the eager vocalist. Asking the man what song he wanted to sing (let's say he said: "I've Got You Under My Skin", in E-flat), Tatum proceeded to play the most intricate, florid, complicated introduction as only he could create, resulting in a totally befuddled singer who didn't have any idea what his starting note was or even when or how he was supposed to come in.  A lot of awkward attempts to get into the song ensued, but Tatum took pity on him and settled things down for a very brief one, and only one, chorus.  Mr. Tatum's devastating revenge.

Not too long afterward, while I was working at Mr. Kelly's opening for comic Jackie Mason, serendipitiously Oscar, Ray Brown and Ed Thigpen were headlining at The London House, a quick cab ride away.  Taking full advantage of the format, I would fling myself into a taxi minutes after my last set, and head to TLH to hear the trio's late night show.

I arrived, seated myself at Oscar's table and ordered a drink.  Oscar said:

"Oh, too bad.  You just missed it.  Carmen came in."

"Oh, I am sorry I missed that."

"Yeah.  And she sat in with us."

"OH! Now I'm really upset I wasn't here."

"Do you want to sing"

"Oh, no, I don't think so Oscar.  Thank you, but not after Carmen sang."

I thought I was in the clear, but after playing the first tune, Oscar began a sweet introduction asking me to come up on stage.  Well, I was nervous, but I couldn't decline the gracious invitation.  Tiny stage, so I was standing in front of Ray and more or less leaning on Oscar's substantial back.  He asked me what I wanted to sing and the key.  I called "Love You Madly" in B-flat.  He had a very impish smile on his face as he began the most intricate, florid, complicated introduction, as closely akin to a full "Tatum" as only he could execute, all the while grinning at me. Of course, I remembered the story and got the joke.  But I had no trouble at all finding my starting note.

What was it like to sing with Oscar Peterson?  It was exciting, intense, thrilling of course, and certainly a bit scary.  But it was much more.  Almost as if Oscar said: "I'm confident you know how to keep your head above water.  Now, for just a few minutes, let's have a swim at the deep end of the pool, shall we?"

-Sloane