Recorded between 1981 & 1985. Acousti Studio, Paris, France (04/03/1981); Centre Musical Bosendorfer, Paris, France (04/03/1981); Classic Sound Productions Studio, NY (04/03/1981); Salle Adyar, Paris, France (04/03/1981); Spitsbergen Studio, The Netherlands (04/03/1981); Village Studio, Montpellier, France (04/03/1981).
1-1, 2-1: from the album Michel Petrucciani (1981) 1-2, 1-4, 1-7: from the album Oracle's Destiny (1982) 1-3, 2-2, 2-3: from the album Note'n Notes (1984) 1-5, 1-8, 2-7: from the album Cold Blues (1985) 1-6, 2-5, 2-6: from the album Date With Time (1981) 2-4: from the album Toot Sweet (1982)
Digipak
CD1. total time 64'54; CD2. total time 60'52
Barcode and Other Identifiers
Barcode: 7 31454 82882 6
Label Code: LC 00699
Rights Society: BIEM/MCPS
Matrix / Runout (Disc 1): 548 300 2 00 1B MADE IN FANCE BY UNIVERSAL M& L
Matrix / Runout (Disc 2): 548 301 2 00 1B MADE IN FRANCE BY UNIVERSAL M & L
Mould SID Code (Disc 1): IFPI 0204
Matrix / Runout (Var 2 (Disc1)): 548 301 2 00 1B MADE IN FRANCE BY UNIVERSAL M & L
Matrix / Runout (Var 2 (Disc 2)): 548 301 2 00 1D MADE IN FRANCE BY UNIVERSAL M & L
It was barely twenty years ago, a long spring that lasted beyond reason. Michel Petrucciani had turned up unexpectedly in Aldo's arms; Aldo Romano, with whom he recorded the Days of Wine and Roses you can hear on this album, the same Days on the young miracle's first Owl Album. That month of April, 1981 began a magical season which, record after record, composed a bouquet of musical flowers such as only very few - have existed in the history of the piano. One day, for example, Lee Konitz came too: I Hear A Rhapsody… You can still hear it floating in the air, as light and haunting as a breeze of desire. The owl - Owl wasn't an acronym, it was really named for the gentle bird that flies at night - the owl couldn't believe his ears. Nor did he miss a single note, and he filled his grooves with music. It was lucky he did, because one day Michel departed. First a long way away - another season, his Californian summer, perhaps - and then for good. But the music from that spring remained with us, and now it's reappeared, still as fresh, as new and joyful… a melodic, unexpected music that is solid and sinuous, beautiful and bold, music that defies the piano - looks it straight in the eye - as others might provoke big cats, or defy the waves of the sea. That same season, filmmaker Frank Cassenti dedicated to him a fine Letter To Michel Petrucciani (extracts from which have been cleverly included in the present selection of recordings); the pianist had confessed a strange complex to Cassenti: "I always had this complex… when I studied the piano for the first time, you know… When you open the lid of the piano, you can see the piano's teeth, like that… and I always had the impression that the piano was laughing at me… right up until I started playing… the piano was saying to me: "Ah, ha, go on, then… try and make me play…" And each time I open the thing, those teeth are there with a big smile, you know, really ironic." You can still hear the piano smiling, but it's a grin of pleasure.
Daniel Soutif Director of Cultural development. National Center of Art and Culture Georges Pompidou