Pianist Oscor Peterson London Gigs

On a weekend when events elsewhere are paying tribute to Oscar Peterson, it’s a chance to recall London ties to his story.

The great Canadian jazz pianist played one of his first concerts outside Montreal and Toronto here in 1946. He played many times at the old Campbells (or Campbell’s) on Dundas Street in the 1950s and took his trio through practices in the wee hours there. Peterson also played house parties and private events decades ago, Centennial Hall and Alumni Hall in the 1970s and UWO’s Althouse theatre in the 1980s. He even played at the opening of the RBC’s branch at White Oaks Mall in June, 1981.

Peterson died Dec. 23 at age 82 with musicians and dignitaries helping pay tribute Friday and yesterday at Toronto events.

Duke Ellington would call Peterson the “Maharajah of the keyboard.” The Free Press of 1946 said “Peterson can rightly be called the King of Canadian Boogie Woogie.”

He did play boogie at Beal.

“He was a boogie woogie piano player and he had a fabulous left hand. That was his schtick then,” says London drummer Bill Vize who played with Peterson at a packed Beal secondary school auditorium on April 30, 1946. Peterson, just 20, was already a star in Montreal.

In 1993, Peterson suffered a serious stroke that weakened his left side and sidelined him for two years. He resumed playing to acclaim. Vize, having seen him in his majestic youth, found it “painful” to watch the recovery.

London bassist Bob (Doc) Livingston, who was the other accompanist at Beal, recalls that Peterson arrived without much fanfare. “He came in the afternoon and we practised for a little while at Beal,” Livingston says.

“Bob and I played conservatively,” Vize says. ” ‘I know both of you can play,’ ” he recalls Peterson telling them.

That 1946 concert has been the subject of a previous column. The Londoners did not accompany when he played works by Chopin, and other classical composers, on the program. Other tunes, such his trademark Oscar’s Boogie, Flying Home and Sheik of Araby, gave plenty of opportunity for the young star’s power and flash.

More than a decade later, London musician and educator Phil Murphy was a guest, at the invitation of the great Ray Brown, longtime Peterson bassist, at a rehearsal at Campbells, likely in the early 1960s. (I would be fascinated to hear from fans who were at Campbells, too.)

“If you make a noise, Oscar’s going to throw you out,” Brown warned Murphy. Peterson took those early morning rehearsals seriously.

“Oscar would play eight bars over and over and over,” Murphy recalls. At points, the pianist would ask for a change. “I want a G in there. Don’t play a D,” he would tell Brown.

A few days later, Murphy was at Campbells and heard the tune, now polished to perfection. Brown smiled and asked how he liked it.

After the night’s shows at Campbells were over, Peterson often visited the homes of Londoners he knew. His friendship with George and Ruth Robinson and early morning visits to their home at 960 Wellington St. were the subject of a previous column.

Also part of London lore is Peterson’s time at the Gibbons Park-area home of the late R.H. Reid, a former London Life president. Among the guests one night when Peterson and Brown played there was London pianist John Noubarian.

At one point, Peterson got up from the piano bench. After a lot of good-natured coaxing from those around him, Noubarian sat down and played. Brown took up his bass and played, too.

“He was my first idol,” Noubarian says of Peterson. “I was doing my damnedest (to emulate Peterson’s style).”

Peterson returned to hear Brown and Noubarian holding forth. “Then, Oscar came in and shoved me off the piano bench,” Noubarian says with a chuckle.

A friendly shove was not out of character for the great man. I remember his quick answer — a solid shove — when I asked Peterson a few years ago when he thought he would stop playing.

He didn’t know, he said. Abruptly. End of shove.

Now, we know we are lucky Oscar Peterson spent so much of his time playing for us.