Bud Powell

Bud Powell ranks among the towering figures in jazz piano, reshaping the instrumental approach taken by virtually every pianist who came after the swing period. He discarded the steady left-hand stride once viewed as fundamental, choosing instead to insert chords from that hand at unpredictable intervals. His right hand typically raced through single-note runs, transferring Charlie Parker's phrasing directly onto the keyboard even as his own development unfolded alongside that of "Bird."

A gifted yet gravely afflicted musician, Powell benefited from encouragement and informal lessons by his colleague Thelonious Monk at early-1940s jam sessions before joining Cootie Williams' orchestra for the years 1943-1945. A racially motivated beating by police left him with lasting head trauma; thereafter he contended with chronic headaches and repeated mental collapses. Between 1947 and 1951 he nevertheless cut exceptional sides for Roost, Blue Note, and Verve, writing such landmark compositions as "Dance of the Infidels," "Hallucinations" (also called "Budo"), "Un Poco Loco," "Bouncing with Bud," and "Tempus Fugit." Already prone to unstable conduct that forfeited engagements—Charlie Parker is said to have told Miles Davis he would not employ Powell because "he's even crazier than me!"—the pianist nevertheless played with frequent brilliance throughout this stretch.

A breakdown and subsequent hospitalization in 1951, which included electroshock treatments, further eroded his strength, although he could still summon peak performances on select occasions, notably the 1953 Massey Hall Concert. Throughout the 1950s his Blue Note recordings generally show him in commanding form, whereas the Verve sessions reveal far greater inconsistency. A cordial and extended sojourn in Paris from 1959 to 1964 somewhat prolonged his activity, yet he spent part of 1962-1963 hospitalized there as well. He came back to New York in 1964, withdrew from view after a handful of appearances, and died before the close of 1966.

In his final years Powell's playing could turn alarmingly fierce or else sound profoundly forlorn, but his sway over jazz—especially before McCoy Tyner and Bill Evans rose in the 1960s—proved lasting, and he endures as one of the music's supreme pianists.