Review by Robert Spencer
Cadence Magazine-
October 2000
"FATHER
JOHN" D'AMICO, LIVE AT THE PAINTED BRIDE, along with STREET BLUES and DARIUS WALK, recall that old song by the Who about somebody
who "used to be a preacher, but now he sings in a major key." "Father John" D'Amico doesn't sing, but he's an honest-to-goodness
ex-priest whose musical inclinations ultimately won out over his ministerial calling. Since he turned his collar around again
he's played with Lionel Hampton, Etta Jones, Philly Joe Jones, and others. Despite his vocational derivation, however, the
good padre is modest about his music mission. Mark Tucker in the notes to “Live” sums it up admirably: "He's not
out to distinguish himself as a new coming stylist, he just plays the tightest standard cool keys around." Perhaps that’s
mission enough in itself. And with DiTommaso doing the ting-a-ling, ting-a-ling thing and Kenny Davis playing a muted and
supportive, often virtually acoustic like electric bass, they're off to the races.
D'Amico
plays in the Bill Evans mode, eschewing every bit of the Tynerian fury that that has dominated much of the piano mainstream
for the last couple of decades. Nevertheless, for all his lightness, D'Amico has a strong touch, and attacks standards like
"in Your Own Sweet Way" and "Footprints" on the upbeat side, with a firmly lyrical but vigorous and animated improvisational
style. Even Evans' pastel "Blue in Green" is taken with gentle melodicism but a ringingly firm and definite touch.
Recorded two years after (Live), (Street Blues) evidences growing assurance and command from D'Amico.
All nine selections are his own compositions, as opposed to only three on (Live); each, moreover, is strong. "Street Blues"
is a wonderfully lively opener, and the varied "Jump Street" sounds spectacularly like Vince Guaraldi pastiching funk. The
moody "Nightfall" features some passionate and keenly-felt chording from D'Amico that rings true and effective in the ballad
setting. "Josephine" works cleverly off a four-note motif and is once again superbly subtle and calm without falling into
sentimentalism or moist imprecision.
The longest track, the thirteen minute
"Suite for Mozart" begins with D'Amico undertaking some grandly fluent solo explorations, sounding not so much like old Wolfgang
as like Jazz improviser with no easy debt to the classical tradition or to anything or anyone else. This is a tour de force
of motivic improvisation and utterly makes the disc, showing a depth and lyrical freedom to his playing that largely disappears
when his trio mates enter and which doesn't show up much at all on the other tracks.
For
all the excellence of (Street Blues), however, (Darius Walk) outshines it. Dedicated to D'Amico's son Darius, who is doing
hard time for robbery as this is written, this disc has a mournful and melancholy edge, along with a hard anger just beneath
the surface. D'Amico's playing is no less lyrical and melodic than it is on (Live) and (Street Blues), but although these
tracks were recorded over a period of nine years they are well grouped here, for they have a dark energy that is not so much
in evidence on the other discs. "Silhouette of a Lonely Man" is limpidly sad but never maudlin or cheaply sentimental. "Hopin'"
is gloomy, driving stuff, and even the playful "Darius Walk" has an unexpectedly intense complexity that belies its structural
simplicity. "Crazy Samba" written to commemorate "the 'Kangaroo Court' that was called a fair trial" for Darius, has a ferocious
anger worthy of Mingus. "Punch-line" powered by Davis, is likewise driving and yet aIways .lyrical, with D'Amico working out
small nodes and clusters over Davis' strong bass.
After listening closely
and repeatedly to these three D'Amico discs, I'm less sure about his self-deprecating modesty. Certainly he isn't a stylistic
trendsetter, but within the mainstream of Jazz piano he is a strong and confident voice with a great deal of imagination and
depth.