RIP, JOHNNY CHOPS
Now All Of My Musical Directors Are Gone
I was in Costa Rica from mid-October until Thanksgiving, totally tuned in to nothing. I then went to the Dominican Republic and have been in Atlanta 3 times in between. I got home tonight and checked in with my friend, bestelling author James Gavin, one of the great writers of our time known most recently for his definitive biography of George Michael, but also for bios on Chet Baker, Peggy Lee, Lena Horne and others. Most recently, James has been working on a biography of Anita O’Day. After initial banter, the conversation took a very sad turn:
Me: “Did you talk to John Colianni as I suggested? You know he played for her…”
James: “Um. No. John recently died...did you not know?”
I did not know because I was away. He died at 61 in mid-November. John and I ended up having a rocky relationship, but early on he discovered me, mentored me, brought me to NYC, and was my first musical director. I would not have met the mother of my children, Judy, if not for him. At the time I was sharing him with Mel Torme, for whom he also served in the same role (Mel took total precedence over me, of course).
He was among the most naturally gifted and instinctive piano players I have ever encountered. I’ve never known a pianist with faster fingers than John. And a great arranger to boot (though he once got me sued because he used an arrangement of a song he had done for someone else on a track on one of my records). He ran the show on said record, my second, Alive & Swingin’ and accompanied me during my early shows in New York. From my first gig at Eighty Eights in the Village where three people attended to Judy’s on west 44th, to the 5 Spot in Midtown, and even the famed Michael’s Pub, where the crowds kept growing. We eventually became estranged and hadn’t talked in years, but that doesn’t prevent me from honoring him and telling our story, in a nutshell…
Palm Springs, California. McCallum Theatre. I was 22 years old. I had began singing by accident — I was a drummer before — but started winning money at karaoke doing Frank Sinatra songs and was encouraged to make a demo tape, which I did. I went to voice lessons with the legendary Seth Riggs in Los Angeles and did some gigs with a local big band, the Chris Davis Orchestra. I wandered to a Mel Torme concert and got myself backstage after the show. I spoke to Mel and handed him my demo tape. He, of course, had no interest in listening and handed it off to his musical director and pianist, John, who did listen.
So the next morning to my total surprise I get a call from John. “Mel gave me your tape. We’re in Palm Springs again tonight, and I want to talk to you. Can you come to the show and meet up after?” Duh. Of course!
So I go back. And we hang. And he tells me he wants me to come to NYC to sing with his own big band project, which he was putting together. We were going to start with a brief residency at Michael’s Pub as the opening act for the actor/singer Danny Aiello. So within a month I up and moved to New York. That project never panned out, but I stuck around and decided to give it a go on my own.
As previously mentioned, he was the accompanist/musical director at my early shows. We started slowly falling out when I got my first record deal in England and chose the late Tony Monte to be my pianist and musical director on that album project over him. I was beginning to notice that John could be difficult, and Tony was renowned for being a true and steady singer’s pianist. We did a few more projects together from time to time, including when he was playing piano for Les Paul during his Monday residencies at Iridium in Times Square when I would go and sit in. But the Les Paul gigs were about it for us.
So I went on and he went on and we didn’t speak much after the Les stuff. I kept working with Tony and, after his heatbreaking loss, Mike Renzi, whom we also lost recently. But John was always on my mind for bringing me to NYC, being an early mentor and actually the reason I met my wife-to-be and the mother of my children. And for this, he has my eternal gratitude.
So though we had a friendship-ending spat years ago, it doesn’t mean I didn’t love him or wasn’t grateful for him and for the life-changing role he played when it came to me. It is unlikely I’d be where I am today musically, as I make my 6th album, mentor young artists and look back on a 30-year rollercoaster of a career if not for him and his early interest in me. I mourn the shock of his death deeply, and I am particularly thinking of his son, Tory, and the rest of his family, most of whom I got to know fairly well. John Colianni. One of a kind musical genius, gone far too soon. Such a loss. Rest in peace, my old friend. And thank you.
