Peterson eventually rebounded, determined to be just as good as, if not better than, Tatum. In his prime, Peterson's technique was unmatched by anyone -- except, of course, Tatum in his prime. Over time, Peterson evolved into one of the most influential and respected men ever to touch the 88s. His recordings and live performances have simultaneously inspired pianists and sent them back to the shed. No wonder they call him Big O.
A few decades after Peterson met his match in the form of Tatum, a preteen pianist named Shelly Berg was introduced to an Oscar Peterson recording by his father, trumpeter Jay Berg. The older Berg wanted his son, who was studying classical music at the time, to appreciate jazz. "Since he was a classical musician, the first thing that he realized was that this was a jazz man playing [with] the technique of [Vladimir] Horowitz," Jay Berg says. "He had to appreciate the technique basically at first. I insisted that he hear the best, and Art Tatum and Oscar Peterson were the two best piano players during my lifetime. And he listened to both."
Floored by Peterson's prowess, Shelly Berg began carrying the Peterson torch, one that would ultimately and brightly illuminate Berg's 1999 release, The Will: A Tribute to Oscar Peterson. But long before that recording, a young Berg devoured Peterson's trio recordings, played Peterson's 33s at 16 rpm so he could transcribe the solos and, when in junior high, performed Peterson's arrangements of standards. The pianist's goal was to learn to swing as hard as Oscar Peterson had. He also wanted to gain knowledge of Tatum's left-hand technique.
"That was a life-altering moment," Berg says of hearing the Big O for the first time. "There's something about swinging like that that it caught hold of me then, and it really turned my life on an axis. I think I've been about [swing] ever since. I think that was the wind in my sails when I began. I love to swing. To me, swinging is like when you are riding a wave when you're a surfer or skiing moguls. When you're swinging, you've caught something and you ride it out as long as you can. I love to play in odd meters. I love the music of Wayne Shorter and Herbie Hancock. I love Bill Evans. But at the core of it is I just love swing."
The elder Berg's influence on his son involved more than playing records. Jay Berg is a respected musician who played trumpet in New York City when 52nd Street was the jazz capital of the world. When he was in Cleveland, Jay Berg (who was also known as Jay Bird for a time) toured with Charlie Parker for a few months, but eventually decided being a jazz musician was no way to support a family. However, he kept playing on the side, often gigging with famous players when they were in town or occasionally venturing up to New York. Legends like Sonny Stitt would often jam at the Bergs' home and spend the night. "Shelly was too young yet to appreciate who they were," Jay Berg says. "But he knew they were good musicians."
Shelly Berg wanted to run with the big dawgs. As an early teen, he tried to sit in with his father and other pros, but says he kept getting kicked off the bandstand -- until January 1970, a month after the Bergs moved to Houston. Jay Berg and Shelly Berg, who was 15 at the time, attended a regularly scheduled jam session at the White House motel on South Main Street. Sitting on the bandstand the evening the Bergs dropped in was saxophonist Arnett Cobb. "I sat in," recalls Shelly Berg, "and I didn't get kicked out."
Every Sunday night throughout high school, Berg jammed at the White House motel with the likes of Cobb, saxophonist Jimmy Ford and whoever else happened to be in town that night; often those players turned out to be members of the Count Basie, Woody Herman or Buddy Rich big bands. Berg says his days at the White House made for a "fabulous" education.
During the mid-1970s, Berg studied at the University of Houston and worked his way through school playing six nights a week in clubs. Sometimes it was jazz; other times it was Top 40 or R&B or salsa or whatever else paid the bills. Berg also produced jingles and played music for fashion shows. He even appeared on two Mickey Gilley albums. He eventually earned his master's degree in classical piano.
Like his father, Berg didn't think playing jazz could support a family. Fresh out of college, he landed a position as director of instrumental music at San Jacinto College, which had just opened a north campus. Berg, comfortable with a day job, became a regular fixture on the Houston jazz scene throughout the '80s. He also became a semiregular in trombonist Bill Watrous's band.
At the urging of Watrous, Berg left Houston for Los Angeles in 1991, when he was offered a teaching position at the University of Southern California. In L.A., Berg has been able to take advantage of a scene filled to critical mass with jazz players. Many of the all-stars in L.A. are fellow faculty members, including Carmen Bradford, John Clayton and Bob Sheppard. Being in L.A. also brings Berg lots of work in film and TV. He's up to his neck in scores and commercials.
Another benefit of living in the City of Angels made itself apparent when Berg decided to record The Will: A Tribute to Oscar Peterson. Through his connections, Berg was able to secure the services of Peterson's legendary rhythm section, bassist Ray Brown and drummer Ed Thigpen. "I got to live out a childhood fantasy," he says, of playing with Peterson's former sidemen.
The tribute album, which demonstrates just how amazing Berg's chops have become, spent several weeks on jazz radio's top ten list and sold well by jazz standards. In other words, the record company didn't lose money. "When you get with a guy that owns a jazz label," he says, "if he can make his money back, he's pretty happy."
Berg has other projects in the works, including an album, already in the can, with Houston vibraphonist Tom Cummings. He's also planning to record an album with another Houstonian who has relocated to Los Angeles, standout vocalist Kellye Gray. But what he really looks forward to is playing with his father. When Jay Berg visits Los Angeles, father and son play out every night. When Shelly Berg comes to Houston, Papa sits in on his son's Cezanne gigs. "I don't ever want to miss an opportunity to play with [my dad]," Berg says. "To this day, if I arrive late at night in Houston on a trip and get to his house at midnight or so and try to let myself in quietly, he'll come out of the bedroom in his pajamas and say, "Let's play.' " The thought makes Berg laugh. "Fortunately, I can still keep up with him."
"My dad was the one who put the music in front of me and put me in front of the music," he continues. "He sat down with me and showed me my first jazz riffs and would come in when I was practicing Beethoven and say, "Let's play tunes.' Make no mistake, my dad is my greatest mentor in my career. To him I owe everything."
