‘Köln 75’ Review: The Inside Story of Keith Jarrett’s Fabled 1975 Solo Improv Concert Becomes a Quirky and Diverting Music Biopic

by

On January 24, 1975, Keith Jarrett played a solo piano concert at the Opera House in Cologne, Germany. This performance, which lasted more than an hour, was completely improvised and was later recorded, eventually becoming a double album titled “The Köln Concert.” Released that same year, it went on to break records as the best-selling solo jazz album and the best-selling piano album. And upon listening to it, you’ll quickly understand why.

The 1970s represented an era dominated by pianists, with figures such as Billy Joel, Elton John, Chick Corea, Herbie Hancock, Jan Hammer, and Jarrett being notable examples. While Keith Jarrett’s albums like “Solo Concerts: Bremen/Lausanne,” from 1973, showcase more technical flair than “The Köln Concert” (with its contrapuntal elements reminiscent of J.S. Bach but with a gospel feel), it’s “The Köln Concert” that encapsulates the laid-back spirit of the time. Despite its lively energy, it radiates a calming, soothing ambiance. In certain moments, it evokes the tranquil atmospheres that made George Winston, the new age pianist, popular, and in others, it resembles an impressionistic painting capturing the most stunning sunset you’ve ever seen. As a pianist, Jarrett was like a soulful blend of Rachmaninoff and a free-jazz emoter. In “The Köln Concert,” he crafted an exuberant improvisation that has been listened to for half a century as a form of relaxation, offering music for blissful contemplation.

Ido Fluk’s film ‘Köln 75,’ a slim, peculiar, and slightly amusing music biopic, narrates the events leading up to a concert in Cologne. The story revolves around Keiji Jarrett’s nearly canceled performance, and how despite numerous obstacles suggesting imminent failure, it miraculously turned into a triumph. While Jarrett is a figure in this movie, portrayed convincingly by John Magaro, the focus is primarily on the events that transpired before the concert. The main character, Vera Brandes (played by Mala Emde), is the 18-year-old dynamo who orchestrated the concert, publicized it, and ultimately persuaded Jarrett to perform, when he had initially decided to withdraw.

In “Köln 75,” you won’t find any tunes by Keith Jarrett. Initially, when a speaker likens Jarrett’s improvisation to Michelangelo painting the Sistine Chapel ceiling, and invites us to envision going back to the 16th century to observe Michelangelo on his scaffolding, it seems as if we’re watching a film about the scaffolding itself. And you might think, “Is that all there is?” or “Really?

However, the character of Vera appears on screen, portrayed by Mala Emde. Although the actress is in her late twenties, she is older than the role requires, she delivers Vera’s teenage, enthusiastic fascination with jazz in a fiery and sensual manner that speaks volumes about the intense devotion people once had for artistic pursuits. “Köln 75” may be a light-hearted film, but it is infused with an energetic vibe, boosted by spontaneous jazz lessons given by a disheveled music critic (Michael Chernus), who stimulates our curiosity about Jarrett’s musical brilliance.

16-year-old Vera resides in a grand, bourgeois apartment with her family, which includes her stern dentist father and unpleasant brother Fritz (Leo Meier). Her dad disregards the music industry as unrefined. However, Vera isn’t dabbling; instead, she transforms from fan to businesswoman when British saxophonist and club owner Ronnie Scott (Daniel Betts) is so smitten that he asks her to organize a tour for him. As she manages to persuade the Opera House head honcho to host Keir Neuringer’s performance on their renowned stage, an unusual hour – 11:30 p.m., following a performance of Alban Berg’s opera “Lulu” – the film becomes a nostalgic tale about female empowerment, even though this story unfolds during an era when ambitious individuals like Vera had to fight for their power at every turn.

Vera requires 10,000 German Marks for hiring the venue, an amount her mother secretly provides; Vera assures that she’ll repay or leave the music industry. However, this is just a prelude to the significant incident – an unexpected twist of fate. We meet Magaro’s Jarrett on the highway following a performance in Switzerland, and their manager and he will drive for hours (500 kilometers) to Cologne because Jarrett must exchange his plane ticket from the record company if they are to afford the tour expenses. This is indicative of how unprofitable the jazz music he plays truly is.

He’s dealing with a troublesome back and an edgy demeanor; spending each night immersed in the creative core of his soul can have that effect. (He’s improvising every concert on the tour.) When he arrived in Cologne, he was met with the ultimate humiliation: He had requested a Bösendorfer Imperial Grand piano, but the one waiting for him on stage was a rundown, out-of-tune practice piano with faulty high and low keys, a malfunctioning pedal, and an unsteady sound. That did it; Jarrett declared he wouldn’t play.

Vera’s argument to him resembles a classic Hollywood triumph storyline, but it goes much deeper than that. The unexpected fact that Keith Jarrett improvised “The Köln Concert” on a damaged piano might seem like the epitome of irony, but it wasn’t. Instead, there was a profound connection between Jarrett and the broken instrument. Due to limitations he wasn’t accustomed to (he had to focus on the middle range and couldn’t show off), the peaceful vibe that defined “The Köln Concert” – what made it unique – originated from the damaged piano. Essentially, Vera argues that if he simply sits down and plays, the need to create will give birth to something new. In convincing him of this, she made a significant contribution to jazz history. While you don’t have to be a Keith Jarrett fan to appreciate “Köln 75,” for his admirers, the film is an engaging tale that adds depth to his serendipitous genius.

Read More

2025-02-20 22:17