Michel Petrucciani: A Career of Urgency - “L’Enfant Terrible"

 © Copyright ® Steven Cerra, copyright protected; all rights reserved.

Imagine if you will, a young boy watching television with his parents four years after his birth in 1962. The setting is Orange, France [about 13 miles north of Avignon in southeastern France]. Given the area’s close proximity to the Italian border, it is not surprising that the family is of both French and Italian ancestry.

Because he was born with osteogenesis imperfecta [“glass bone disease”], a rare bone disorder that stunted his growth and made him fragile, the child would combat physical deformity and daily pain throughout his life.

This evening’s featured television performer is Duke Ellington and after watching him play piano on the program the young boy proclaimed: “I want to play this instrument.”

His parents lovingly complied giving him a toy piano for Christmas, whereupon, the child asked for a hammer and smashed the plaything to smithereens. When the destruction was finished, he turned to his parents and announced: “And now, I want a real one!”

Thus it was on that night in 1966 that the music world witnessed the advent of Michel Petrucciani – l’enfant terrible of the Jazz piano.

From that point onward, the existence of Michel’s Father, Sicilian Jazz guitarist Antoine [Tony] Petrucciani and his French wife Anne along with their other two sons Philippe [also a guitarist] and Louis [a bassist] would never be the same.

For into their lives the World had launched the power and the majesty of Michel Petrucciani who as an adult standing about 3 feet high and weighing 65 pounds once declared: “My philosophy is to have a really good time and never let anything stop me from doing what I want to do.”

But first, there were dues to be paid and these could not be collected until a real piano was found.

Papa Tony held a job at a nearby military base and one night he brought home a dilapidated upright piano that had been left behind by the troops who were being redeployed elsewhere.

As described by Michel: “The piano stank of beer that the soldiers had spilled into it when they were drunk, but the important thing to me was that it sounded real!”

Now the dues paying could begin in earnest in the form of eight years of constant practice that was strictly limited to classical studies. As Michel later noted, “Classical training is fundamental. That’s the way I learned discipline and developed technique.”

Because he was aware that his son could hum Wes Montgomery guitar solos from the time when he was beginning to walk, Tony Petrucciani understood that Michel’s real desire to learn music and the piano came from within.

But Tony was also aware of the old adage: “the right way is the hard way and the hard way is the right way.” So he tested Michel’s resolve by insisting that the piano was strictly for Classical studies – no Jazz.

“Sure I resisted these limitations,” said Michel, “but it paid off. I will be forever grateful to my Father for being so strict and demanding of me in my early training.”

Michel required a special seat to obtain a proper perspective on the keyboard. Tony also made him an extension so that Michel’s feet could reach the piano’s pedals. Michel would carry this device with him wherever he played for the rest of his life.

His Father also purchased a better instrument for him three years later when he was seven as his playing had dramatically improved.

Mercifully for him, given his passion for the piano, Michel’s hands were unaffected by his disease. They were large enough to span a tenth on the keyboard, an essential minimum for a normal professional pianist.

But Michel was not about ‘minimums’ and he was anything but ‘normal.’ Physical limitations were never handicaps to overcome; he was not even aware of their existence.

“… never let anything stop me from doing what I want to do….”

“When I was young I thought the keyboard looked like teeth. It was as though it was laughing at me. You have to be strong to make the piano feel little."

Musically, Michel’s disease may have been a blessing in disguise as there was no other choice but the piano when he was growing up. He could not go out and ride his bike or play soccer like the other kids. But there was nothing to stop him from practicing for six to eight hours a day.

But it was more than practice: it was that The Muse had chosen to give The Gift to Michel Petrucciani.

...To be continued in a multi-part feature.