This afternoon around twelve, two old friends got together at the corner of Albert and Bank.
Not an uncommon occurrence, mind you, but one that bears attention when those two pals happen to be Peter Appleyard and Dick Hyman.
Appleyard and Hyman, whose association carbon dates some fifty years, re-pieced their friendship in front of a lively if elderly crowd at CBC Ottawa's downtown studios for a live jam session-interview conducted by radio personality Eric Friesen (the occasion is part of the TD Canada Trust Ottawa International Jazz Festival.) The two will be playing for a greater length of time later in the day, at Wellington Street's Library and Archives Canada Auditorium.
Appleyard, who looks like the last customer in an Irish pub, and Hyman, molded in the austere posture of an orchestra conductor, opened the 40 minute session with Cole Porter's "Night and Day," which pianist Hyman played in his skittery, cosmopolitan style, while vibraphonist Appleyard contributed notes as deep and sweet as samples of prize fruit.
Several anecdotes later - conflicting stories about their first meeting, some insight into Beny Goodman's quirky character, congratulatory remarks about various awards, all with Appleyard displaying that natural British talent for storytelling and Hyman playing low key straightman - they broke into a careful, poetic version of an old Appleyard favorite, "Chelsea Bridge," each man selecting their notes with extreme care. Hyman soloed with reverent delicacy, and Appleyard proved just as tasteful.
At host Friesen's insistence (the thrilled Friesen, by the way, spend the concert in fey rapture), Hyman played unaccompanied, a rendering of Harold Arlen's "A Sleeping Bee" which he played with pointilist panache.
Much appreciated quips on ageing ensued (though neither Hyman, 80, nor Appleyard, 78, confessed to be entertaining retirement), and then, all too soon, the session came to its close, ending in the manner in which it began: with some aptly selected Cole Porter, a composer who brings out the best in both players. Appleyard and Hyman pumped and plucked their way through "Just One of Those Things," until the latter, using a heavy, waltzy hand, led the former through various styles and tempi. Appleyard,of course, played admirable, energetic catch-up, running ragged over the resonators.
No excerpts from Neil Simon's "The Sunshine Boys" these get-togethers; this is a bond of evident respect, displayed both musically and verbally. In all ways, the two are a perfect compliment: the colloquial (Appleyard) and the classy (Hyman.)
Yes, the age-old Appleyard-Hyman friendship very much in tact, as solid, to be sure, as the union of Albert and Bank.
