Chilly Gonzales, holder of the world record for longest piano performance at a whopping 27 hours, 3 minutes and 44 seconds, is not above a good gimmick. Thursday night’s show at Joe’s Pub put that tendency on display, packing an hour-long set with all sorts of jokes for the audience—a sort of Victor Borge meets Zack Galifianakis combination of virtuosity and gags. With a two-day beard on display and dressed in what appeared to be a bathrobe, he looked the part as well.
The gimmicks were visual, as he fumblingly maneuvered (without missing a note) around an inconveniently placed microphone in the upper octave of his piano; they were oral as well, with Gonzales inviting the audience to imagine their parents during the moment of conception. He commented on his signature gloves, saying “They make playing piano three or four percent harder. But to you, the stupid masses, it looks much more difficult.” He sang an improvised song drenched in reverb to “mimic the conditions of soundcheck.” He told a story about a guitar player tuning on stage while (of course) tuning on stage; then he smashed the guitar to bits.
That description may sound dreadful or hokey, and I understand why—I am not a fan of gimmicky music, and would hate to see a show that was all style and no substance. Dreadful, though, this show was not. The concert was both charming and impressive, witty and worthwhile. Gonzales is a fantastic pianist, with the chops to back up his gags with impassioned performance; he plays intricate pieces with an intensity that borders on percussive. The man knows the piano like, well, like someone who has sat in front of it for twenty-seven hours at some point in his life.
Even Gonzales’ instrumental pieces were spliced with musical allusions and aural winks that kept the listener always on their toes. A story about his Jewish, anti-Semitic grandfather mixed with a jazz interpretation of Wagner’s “Flight of the Valkyrie.” Bach’s “Minuet in G” found itself chopped up and wrapped in a hypothetical, autobiographical Broadway musical. “Hotel California” was slowly revealed as melody lines converged. Combined with the often crude lyrics, imprecise hammering, and occasional rumble of the subway beneath, it was quite the spectacle.
Guesting on this, the second weekly installment of Gonzales’ February residence at Joe’s Pub, was none other than New York party maven Andrew WK. Mr. Party Hard was another gimmicky player in act, and one who didn’t steal the show as expected. After a brief introductory video which declared the results of a previous piano duel between the two null and void (Gonzales had originally been declared the winner), WK sang two slow songs, with Chilly relegated to mere accompaniment. Performed with tongues firmly planted in cheeks, the ditties were over the top and silly, and didn’t add much to the show. Not until the encore did Andrew WK demonstrate his worth, performing a toned down acoustic version of party banger “I Get Wet” that featured all four hands on the keys at once.
Andrew WK tossed his hair around and played the role of upstart well, but in the end he was deferential to Gonzales, his piano-playing superior and star of the show. The collaborators hugged as they left the stage, and the crowd echoed bravos before heading back out into the Chilly night.
