JON SCHMIDT, Abravanel Hall, July 27, 8 p.m.
Jon Schmidt, local piano composer and performer, played for a nearly full house Saturday evening. He played (the piano), and he played (around).
Schmidt lived up to my image of him as the impish "boy next door." His demeanor was charming, relaxed and friendly, making us feel like we were in his living room, sharing a bit of his life and his music.
"An Evening with Jon Schmidt" brimmed with variety and energy. His lively piano was sometimes accompanied by a band, other times, a string quartet. Some pieces he played with tender reverence and others with Jerry Lee Lewis-like fire.
Performing his own compositions, Schmidt alternately added segments of jazz, pop and classical music. He played with his elbows and derriere, upside down and right side up, staging ever-creative dismounts from the piano bench (including one backflip).
Schmidt has the unique ability to talk with an audience rather than to it, and his music had the same effect.
Much of the audience was familiar with Schmidt's music, but a good portion wasn't. And for me, it would have helped for Schmidt to introduce more of his pieces since there wasn't a written program. A title helps the audience experience the composer's message. For example, "Riding West" (a galloping romp in which Schmidt straddled the bench and yelled "Yee-Haw") wouldn't have been so entertaining without it's title and introduction.
Schmidt did take pains to introduce every member of the band and string quartet. He then gave each a solo in the "Bumblebee Tuna Song" that had every person in Abravanel Hall tapping a foot or two. He even wrote a song to audience specifications. All in all, he managed to make his concert interactive rather than a specatator sport.
But the best audience reaction of the evening was a surprise to us all. When he asked for a volunteer pianist from the audience, a middle-aged man approached the stage.
"Can you improvise on a blues riff in C," he asked his unsuspecting victim.
"Fast or slow?" was the reply.
Well, it turned out that the guy could play. The two put out a rockin' duet that was fresh and exciting, especially when both rose to their feet, putting their whole bodies (and ours) into the jazzy piece.
Other favorites of the evening were "Waterfall," that exactly mirrors its title; "Bells of Freedom," with it's patriotic flair and epic sounds; and "Tribute," a tender ballad dedicated to a brother and sister Schmidt lost to tragedy.
Schmidt's antics, however fun and irreverent, did not take away from the serious moments of his concert. His tribute, "Christopher's Song," was accompanied by a slide show of the 3 year old boy who was born with only half a heart. Little Christopher made a stage appearance at the end of the piece. I detected a few sniffles in and around me. The evening went on with rapidly changing moods. The energetic evening almost ended with an Elvis impersonation, but it was followed by an encore. Schmidt's composition, "Homecoming" morphed into Billy Joel's "Piano Man" (flavored with Schmidt's signature style) that had us all singing and swaying along, "Sing us a song, you're the piano man."
And for that night, he certainly was.