James P. Johnson was one of the great jazz-musical-classical 
                  composers of 1920s America; he was eclipsed only by George Gershwin. 
                  It was a Johnson-made Broadway show that created the decade’s 
                  signature tune and dance: the Charleston. Johnson was a pioneer 
                  of stride piano jazz, wrote the song “If I Could Be With You 
                  (One Hour Tonight)” - preserved in the soundtrack to Casablanca 
                  - and, according to this disc’s liner notes, made “the first 
                  recorded jazz piano solo.” Fats Waller and Duke Ellington studied 
                  with him. All this success is made even more remarkable by the 
                  fact that James P. Johnson was black. 
                    
                  A leading figure in the Harlem Renaissance, Johnson pursued 
                  classical musical forms in a parallel course, even writing a 
                  short opera with Langston Hughes. In the early 1930s, his career 
                  plummeted, partly because of the arrival of the Depression, 
                  partly because of a retreat to the suburbs to study classical 
                  technique more seriously, and partly because in performance 
                  he was being overshadowed by a fresh arrival from Toledo, Art 
                  Tatum, very possibly the best jazz pianist of all time. Johnson’s 
                  star has been dim ever since, everyone loving the Charleston 
                  without knowing who wrote it, and this 1994 MusicMasters album, 
                  reissued now on Nimbus, is a brave attempt to right that wrong. 
                  
                    
                  Here we have all sides of James P. Johnson. The Victory Stride 
                  is a big band number from 1944 with solo licks for trumpet, 
                  trombone, and clarinet; the Harlem Symphony and piano concerto 
                  are two of his most determined efforts to fuse jazz and classical 
                  styles; Drums is a total blast of a symphonic poem with great 
                  percussive abandon; the Charleston is here too. The good fortune 
                  here is that very little of the music feels second-rate or uninspired, 
                  and although the tunes and structure might not be on the American 
                  in Paris level, this is all delicious stuff. 
                    
                  The Harlem Symphony is a pretty substantial work, 22 
                  minutes long, and I find the second two movements much more 
                  successful than the first two. The scherzo is a ‘Night Club’ 
                  scene where Johnson really abandons his inhibitions and lets 
                  the jazz out in full force. ‘Baptist Mission’ is almost exactly 
                  the opposite: a set of variations on a hymn tune into which 
                  syncopation and swing gradually seep. 
                    
                  The Piano Concerto, titled “Jazz A Mine,” is quite wonderful, 
                  which it makes it all the sadder that the third movement has 
                  not survived - the notes tell us. Leslie Stifelman has a grand 
                  time with the first-movement piano part, with its extensive 
                  ornamentation and several quasi-cadenzas; once the big jazz 
                  tune emerges at 1:15 we know we’re in good compositional and 
                  pianistic hands. This is an episodic piece to be sure, but the 
                  opening movement is splashy and full of good moments - including 
                  a brilliantly-done muted trombone line beginning at 3:20 and 
                  an ending cadenza that’s effectively a new solo stride number 
                  - and the slow movement’s eight minutes are absolutely gorgeous, 
                  with a beautiful melody at its heart well-rendered by Stifelman. 
                  This piece definitely belongs on the jazz piano concerto shortlist 
                  with Gershwin’s in F, Ravel’s in G, Szpilman’s Concertino, 
                  and Suesse’s Concerto in Three Rhythms. 
                    
                  The bluesy Lament doesn’t feel too much like a lament, 
                  not in the classical sense (it’s no Barber adagio): it’s a very 
                  free indeed adaptation of W.C. Handy’s legendary “St. Louis 
                  Blues.” One gets the impression that Johnson improvises this 
                  riff with the entire orchestra, the way he previously had improvised 
                  with the piano - which does make some solo appearances. 
                    
                  Two splashy orchestral bits round out the disc: the nine-minute-long 
                  Drums, which wastes no time living up to its billing 
                  - the beginning is a huge timpani solo - as a very spicy evocation 
                  of Afro-Caribbean drumming moods. The number of great tunes 
                  is simply unfair, and the Concordia percussion section really 
                  delivers every bit of vigor it has. And, finally, we’ve got 
                  the Charleston. The opening trumpet solo, maybe the tenderest 
                  moment on the whole CD, steals the show, and then lightning-fast 
                  tap dancer Frederick Boothe does his best to steal it back, 
                  intelligently set against a light accompaniment (banjo, drums, 
                  bass) so as not to be drowned out by the orchestra. 
                    
                  The Concordia Orchestra, of Concordia College, Minnesota, is 
                  certainly very much in the jazz spirit, even if the string section 
                  doesn’t have a particularly full or energized sound and if some 
                  of the wind players are a bit tentative too - the good brass 
                  players, understandably in this music, heavily favored by the 
                  recording, and the clarinetist in Charleston has some great 
                  moments. Marin Alsop is the conductor, and as sympathetic to 
                  the idiom as we would expect from her. 
                    
                  If you’d like to have a bit of jazzy fun in the Harlem Renaissance, 
                  this will be a budget-price treat, and there’s not likely to 
                  be another recording of this music anytime soon. 
                    
                  Brian Reinhart 
                
                  See also reviews by Tony 
                  Augarde and Rob 
                  Barnett