The Unknown Side of Krzysztof Komeda

krzysztof_komeda_fot_wojciech_plewinski_forum.jpg, default, The Unknown Side of Krzysztof Komeda, Krzysztof Komeda, February 18, 1958, Zakopane, photo: Wojciech Plewiński / Forum, center, #000000

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On the 90th anniversary of jazz genius Krzysztof Komeda’s birth, we would like to show that his music is still very much alive and also reflect on how it might have developed if the famed pianist and composer hadn’t died in 1969.

Non-existent Komeda

What if Krzysztof Komeda (Trzciński) hadn’t suffered the serious head injury at a party in Beverly Hills on 12 October 1968 that led to his death six months later? Such speculations are futile, but difficult to resist. It’s human nature to create speculative narratives – inventing alternative versions of history isn’t only an intellectual pastime, but is also a way of dealing with trauma. For example, the loss of one of Poland’s most talented musicians.

Krzysztof Komeda, fot. archiwum CAF/PAP — Krzysztof Komeda, fot. CAF/PAP

Rosemary’s Baby, a film nominated for two Oscars (the Oscar went to Ruth Gordon for Best Supporting Actress), quickly gained cult status. It was released on vinyl and cassette in 1968 – a great distinction, since releasing film soundtracks was not as common then as it is now.

Komeda was also responsible for compositions used in the film Riot, directed by Buzz Kulik and starring Gene Hackman. This score was written by Komeda after his tragic accident, shortly before he slipped into a coma. This film about a riot in a state prison was popular among audiences but not very warmly received by critics. It didn’t enter the cinema canon, and today only avid cinephiles remember it. After the premiere of Riot, Roger Ebert, one of the USA’s most highly respected film critics, wrote: ‘The innovative use of sound is the only truly creative component of the film’ (he gave it two-and-a-half stars on his four-star scale). Fans of film music greatly appreciated Komeda’s soundtrack for Riot. Rumours of a vinyl record of the music have spread around the world, and the legend of the release even has its own Wikipedia entry. The record is said to have been released in Japan right after the film’s premiere, but no one has managed to find it yet. A real white raven.

(This playlist is also available on Tidal)

How would Komeda’s career as a film soundtrack composer have evolved? Would he have composed the music for Polanski’s film Chinatown instead of Jerry Goldsmith? Goldsmith was one of the most renowned Hollywood composers at the time; he wrote music for over 200 films, and was particularly proud of his score for Chinatown. His soundtrack was nominated for an Oscar, but it lost to Nino Rota’s soundtrack for The Godfather II. Could Komeda eventually have succeeded in becoming the next Polish composer, after Leopold Stokowski and Bronislaw Kaper, to win an Academy Award? It would certainly have led to him collaborating with many other famous artists. Perhaps European filmmakers would have noticed him? I would especially like to hear the music he might have composed for a spaghetti western.

We might also imagine the collaborations between Komeda and his friend Marek Hłasko that might have happened if not for the accident that led to the musician’s death. Hłasko, a Polish writer, was with Komeda on that fateful night in 1968 when he sustained the injuries that eventually led to his death. Nobody knows exactly what happened that night, but some think Hłasko may have caused the accident, and the writer was tormented by guilt about the death of his friend. Hłasko, always a heavy drinker, turned to drugs and alcohol for solace and on 14 June 1969,he died from an overdose of sleeping pills and alcohol. What if the two friends hadn’t died in 1969? Might they have recorded an album together, like Jack Kerouac and Steve Allen?

Marek Hłasko and Krzysztof Komeda in Marek Niziński's apartment, Beverly Hills, 1968, photo: Niziński / IWL

And what if Komeda had returned to Poland? In 1966, Ewa Demarczyk sang in the song Z Ręką na Gardle (A Hand on the Throat), which Komeda wrote for the film Bariera (The Barrier), directed by Jerzy Skolimowski. Komeda’s melody in it is difficult to mistake for anything else; in the background you can hear unsettling violins, plus an interestingly broken triple meter. The scream-like singing of Demarczyk, known as ‘the Black Angel’, gives Komeda’s music an exceptionally poignant, strongly emotional expression. In his improvisations, Komeda was sometimes completely unrestrained, but at the same time he remained subdued, rather elegant. Demarczyk extracted an element of ferocity from his music. 1966 was a breakthrough year for the singer – she finished school, left the Kraków cabaret Piwnica pod Baranami, and ended her collaboration with Zygmunt Konieczny, even though they had formed one of Poland’s most famous composer-singer duos. Would the extremely different personalities of Demarczyk and Komeda have made it possible to form a similar duo? She was a perfectionist to the extreme; each of her concerts was a carefully planned spectacle, a ritual. Komeda also cared about perfection, but was somewhat scatter-brained.

There have never been very close links between Polish contemporary music and the world of jazz. Composers have been cautious when making references to this genre, especially in their ‘serious’ works presented at contemporary music festivals. A few jazz pieces were composed by Bogusław Schaeffer, and Krzysztof Penderecki’s Actions composed for a free jazz orchestra was a one-off exception in his repertoire. Komeda might have appeared at the Warsaw Autumn Festival as a performer, but it’s easy to imagine a situation in which he would want to try his hand at composing contemporary music. Listening to the multiple repetitions in What’s Up Mr Basie? recorded at the Jazz Jamboree Festival in 1963, it seems that the band led by Komeda had an almost minimalist sensibility. During a potential trip to New York, Komeda could have ended up in a loft where a many-hour performance of minimal music was happening. Komeda’s minimalism would probably sound completely different from the American version.

Bled Jazz Festival, 1964, Yugoslavia (today Slovenia), pictured: Tomasz Stańko, Krzysztof Komeda, Andrzej Dąbrowski, Zofia Komeda, photo: Andrzej Dąbrowski / FOTONOVA / East News

Or maybe he would have immersed himself in the possibilities of electronic music? After all, he was interested in electronic transformations, although he never managed to explore their full potential. His student, Tomasz Stańko, produced one piece in Polish National Radio’s Experimental Studio in Warsaw. Komeda would probably have had many other studios at his disposal, sometimes better equipped. Would he perhaps have renewed contact with his Scandinavian acquaintances and composed in the stuffy rooms of the Elektronmusikstudion in Stockholm? His fascination with electronics also might have been pursued in the field of jazz; after all, many of his collaborators were seduced by the poetics of fusion jazz. It’s hard for me to imagine, but maybe at least out of courtesy he would have performed on the records of the electric ensembles of Michał Urbaniak or the aforementioned Stańko?

Экспериментальная студия Польского радио, 1962–1972, фото: Анджей Зборский/ из архива Музея современного искусства в Варшаве — Polish Radio Experimental Studio, 1962–1972, photo: Andrzej Zborski / courtesy of the Museum of Modern Art in Warsaw

Based on the numerous reinterpretations of Komeda’s music released by the Munich-based ECM label, it’s certainly easy to imagine they would have been interested in working with him. This would have led to many interesting encounters, and Komeda probably would have been mentioned alongside Keith Jarret, Chick Corea and Paul Bley. Or maybe his works would have been published in the ‘New Series’ – ECM’s album series dedicated to contemporary music?

Though none of these things happened, Komeda’s music has appeared in many contexts that the prematurely deceased pianist could never have imagined.

Komeda alive

The death of Krzysztof Komeda was a great shock to his friends. Many of them expressed their grief through music. The first album entirely devoted to Komeda’s music was Music for K, recorded in 1970 by Tomasz Stańko’s quintet.

Thumbnail — 'Music for K' album cover, photo: promotional materials

The material is based partly on Stańko’s Jazz Mass, composed three years earlier. It was commissioned by the Dominicans in Kraków to attract young people, who more often attended jam sessions in smoky cellars than church services. In his mass, Stańko didn’t make use of any archaic elements or allude to the stylistics of church music. ‘I think that jazz in its original form perfectly suits all sacred rituals, regardless of the type of religion, and doesn’t require additional stylistic interventions’, he said in an interview published in Jazz magazine in 1968. The instrumentation of the concert performance of Jazz Mass included two sets of drums, two double basses, a trumpet, a saxophone, and a vocal quartet (Novi Singers). There was also an amateur choir made up of students from the Academy of Music. ‘Kyrie’ from Jazz Mass was one of the pieces performed by Komeda’s friends during his funeral at Warsaw’s Powązki Cemetery. The lullaby from Rosemary’s Baby also was played.

Music for K was recorded in the concert hall of the National Philharmonic in Warsaw – a very large concert hall, the type of venue in which jazz musicians rarely performed at that time. In the recording, you can hear this space; the instruments resound with longer reverb than in a studio. Later, the issue of unusual concert spaces would be very important in Stańko’s musical experiments (he played, for example, in factories during the switch of two work shifts, and in the Taj Mahal). This is an album full of anger and passion, but at the same time it’s precisely composed – we can easily distinguish the beginning, climax, and end. It tells a story of loss and absence; the piano, Komeda’s instrument, is absent.

The bassist Roman Dyląg recalls that when he first saw Komeda and Stańko together on stage, he was amazed by their musical similarity. ‘I think Tomek was Komeda’s alter ego. He fit in so well with Komeda’s mood and his intentions’, Dyląg said.

Another important record devoted to Komeda is We’ll Remember Komeda, recorded in June 1972 at Tonstudio Walldorf near Frankfurt am Main. The recording featured Tomasz Stańko, Michał Urbaniak, Zbigniew Seifert, Urszula Dudziak, Attila Zoller, Roman Dyląg, Peter Giger, and Armen Halburian. Stańko, Urbaniak, Dudziak and Dyląg played with Komeda in various line-ups. There are tracks from the album Oh, My Sweet European Home and interpretations of soundtrack music written by Komeda (for the films Kattorna, Rosemary’s Baby, and Knife in the Water). They were performed differently than we know them from the recordings made by Komeda’s bands – they’re full of the energy of the 1970s, an aggressive sound, and references to rock, funk, and trance inspired by nearly unidentifiable exotic musical traditions.

In an article by Tadeusz Prajzner in Jazz magazine (10/1973), Michał Urbaniak discusses the new version of Kattorna, saying, ‘In arranging this piece of music, I was inspired by rock, because I think that if Komeda were composing today, he would choose that style’. In this composition from Astigmatic, Komeda’s most famous album, an exceptionally important role is played by percussion instruments which play carnivalesque rhythms that are rather at odds with the flow of the music’s narrative. It’s also worth mentioning the wonderful interpretation of the ‘horror pieces’ – Witches (arranged by Tomasz Stańko), a musical representation of a witches’ sabbath (Komeda was inspired by a poem written by Władysław Sebyła) and the theme music from Rosemary’s Baby (arranged by Roman Dyląg). In the famous lullaby, the musicians perform a kind of instrumental theatre – Dudziak plays the role of a witch by whispering in a Slavic quasi-language, the double bass plays the role of the Devil, and the remaining instruments create a mysterious atmosphere.

Who was Krzysztof Komeda for the creators of the album recorded in West Germany?

‘At the time, I didn’t appreciate how privileged I was to be playing with this man’, said Roman Dyląg in an interview with Tomasz Gregorczyk and Janusz Jabłoński. The bass-player took part in the recording session of the music for Polanski’s film Knife in the Water. In 1963, he went to Stockholm, where he had the chance to perform with Komeda. The musician emphasised that he was more interested in mainstream music at the time, and that Komeda’s somewhat avant-garde approach didn’t appeal to him. ‘He had this romantic view of music; it was more like painting. His compositions were landscapes’, Dyląg said.

‘He was like a father to us all’, said Michał Urbaniak. He stressed that Komeda was not only a great composer, but also a mindful bandleader. ‘He wanted us to play on the edge of harmony, to take the risk of searching for difficult notes and, after a short foray into a different musical galaxy, to return safely home each time’, he wrote in his autobiography. He often emphasised his almost pathological striving for perfection; after a perfectly played passage, he would say, ‘Very good – wonderful, this is the best version so far! Now let’s record it again’.

‘I remember singing with him in the cellar under Klub Hybrydy. I was wildly in love with him, but of course it was just platonic love’, said Urszula Dudziak in an interview with Andrzej Zieliński, while recalling the golden era of Polish jazz. Years later, she told Zofia Komeda (Krzysztof Komeda’s wife) about it, who replied, ‘All women were in love with him!’ Perhaps Dudziak’s singing career would never have taken off if Komeda had never gone to Zielona Góra. Mieczysław Puzicki, a pianist who performed in a band in Zielona Góra, suggested to Komeda that he audition a girl who could sing superbly – a tenth-grade high school student. She skipped classes, pretending to have a toothache, and went to the Piastowska Restaurant, where she sang American jazz standards such as Stompin’ at the Savoy and A Foggy Day. She claims to have sung them with ‘goat vibrato’ due to stress, but shortly afterwards she was offered a summertime contract at Klub Hybrydy. Years later, she recalled:

Komeda gave me courage because I was very nervous about singing and lacked confidence in myself. He said, ‘Ula, it’s good, sing as much as you can’. He told me not to repeat myself and to avoid my favourite vocal phrases. Later, when conducting master classes with students, I passed on Komeda’s wise words to them.
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Tomasz Stańko, Warsaw, 1987, photo: Piotr Kłosek / FOTONOVA / East News

Tomasz Stańko continued returning to the works of his former bandleader until the end of his life and dedicated two albums to him. He claimed that Komeda ‘never dominated the other musicians. He used to say, “Play the way you want, the way that suits you best”. However, the music always turned out the way he wanted it to sound’.

Many Polish musicians have performed Komeda’s music, and some of these performances have been recorded. If there had been an independent music publishing market in Poland during the communist era, many interesting bootleg recordings containing interpretations of Komeda’s compositions and improvisations based on his musical motifs would certainly have survived to this day.

One of the most noteworthy pieces is Memory of Bach, the first track on the album Baazaar, which was released in 1970 by a trio led by Jerzy Milian, who co-wrote the composition. The ethereal combination of a jazz idiom with a musical motif from Bach became one of the symbols of Polish modern jazz. The composition was first performed at the first edition of the Jazz Festival in Sopot in 1956 by Komeda’s sextet. It can be said that it was heard by nearly all of Poland: a segment of the concert was presented in the Polish Film Chronicle (Andrzej Munk was behind the camera at the time). Also worth mentioning is the performance of Crazy Girl by Michał Urbaniak’s Group on the Live Recording album from 1971 – it’s very chaotic, dominated by Paweł Jarzębski’s rock groove on bass guitar and Czesław Bartkowski’s spectacular percussion. Of course, Komeda’s lullaby from Rosemary’s Baby has been the most popular to perform.

International audiences became better acquainted with Komeda’s music thanks to Tomasz Stanko’s albums for the ECM label, but it had already been circulating in foreign countries. The 1975 debut album of the West German fusion group Virgo, comprised of musicians from now forgotten krautrock bands, featured an interesting interpretation of Kattorna. It begins with a two-and-a-half-minute saxophone solo that goes from gentle swing music to a forlorn, death rattle-like wheeze from the instrument. The climax is a little more predictable; everything falls into place just like it usually did in fusion music of the time – skilful and lively drum parts, a pulsating bass guitar groove, and the soft sound of a Rhodes electric piano. The band’s keyboardist was Warsaw-born Henryk Darlowski.

A glimmer of new interest in Komeda’s music appeared in 1989 with Komeda Days, organised by Jan Zylber, the drummer of the famous Komeda sextet and a dynamic entrepreneur. The festival’s slogan was: ‘Komeda alive!’ The Warsaw Operetta hosted a gala concert, the idea of which was to present the work of the pianist who had died 20 years earlier in the broadest possible manner – not only his jazz and film score pieces were performed, but also songs and ballet music. At the Iluzjon Cinema, there was a screening of films featuring Komeda’s music as well as a discussion session. In 1997, the highlight of the Jazz Rondo Festival in Słupsk was a concert by Tomasz Stańko, during which he and his band performed material from their album Litania, which was dedicated to Komeda. A year later, the festival changed its name to the Krzysztof Komeda Jazz Festival; the theme of the event under the new patronage was a new phenomenon on the Polish musical scene known as ‘yass’.

Maestro Trytony, photo: Krzysztof Szymanowski, courtesy of the author

Emerging from a defiant atmosphere, ‘yass’ musicians wanted to break away from jazz traditions. ‘Because nobody gets jazz, man’, Tymon Tymański once sang. They were closer to punk rock than to the founding fathers of jazz, but breaking with the past isn’t that easy. The very first ‘yass’ album, Tańce Bydgoskie (Bydgoszcz Dances) by Trytony, included a piece titled No. 3 that was less than one minute long. The pioneering album of the ‘yass’ style was exceptionally eclectic, especially for the 1990s. The songs were interspersed with theme-changing miniatures, which often completely changed the album’s overall style. It’s hard to call this album incoherent – the element connecting the disparate thematic motifs was a kind of lyricism that can also be found in Komeda’s music.

The trumpeter and composer Robert Majewski was five years old at the time of Komeda’s death, but he must have known his music very well – Henryk, Robert’s father, played in the famous Old Timers band and was president of the Polish Jazz Association. In 1995, Majewski recorded the album Robert Majewski Plays Komeda, which in no way resembled the heretical rebellion of the ‘yass’ musicians. It features both older (Henryk Miśkiewicz, Zbigniew Wegehaupt) and younger (Robert Majewski, Wojtek Majewski, and Michał Miśkiewicz) musicians. Komeda’s music is very elegant and lounge-like here, barely invasive – in some moments it almost sounds like background music.

The year 1995 also saw the release of the album Komeda by the Simple Acoustic Trio, a band led by future members of the Tomasz Stańko Quartet – Sławomir Kurkiewicz, Michał Miśkiewicz, and Marcin Wasilewski. The young musicians managed to present the exceptionally wide spectrum of emotions hidden in Komeda’s music – from deep sadness to moments of ecstatic joy.

A momentous event in the composer’s posthumous life was Litania by Tomasz Stańko’s septet. It was performed by a truly stellar line-up, featuring some of the most popular musicians from the ECM label at that time: Joakim Milder, Bernt Rosengren (who had played with Komeda), Bobo Stenson, Terje Rydpal, Palle Danielsson, and Joe Christensen. This was the most popular album in Stańko’s career, and it became a global bestseller. This album was a bridge between Stańko’s early and later works, as he slowly moved away from experimentation and raw expression. He focuses here on creating moods, melodies, and harmonies. Stańko said that in the recording he wished to reflect the ‘minor details’ that could be heard in Komeda’s playing, as well as his lyricism. Guitarist Terje Rydpal only contributes to three tracks – two versions of Sleep Safe and Warm, which is the famous lullaby from Rosemary’s Baby, and The Witch, which uses a lot of reverb and guitar effects. From today’s perspective, the spectacular electric displays that draw on virtuosic trends in rock music are at the limit of good taste; but combined with the serenity of the other musicians of the septet, they express something quite interesting. Stańko returned to Komeda’s music on many subsequent albums throughout his career.

Komeda, who was the favourite composer of Roman Polański and Jerzy Skolimowski, is also an important reference point for another Polish artist associated with the ECM label – the saxophonist Maciej Obara. In 2013, Obara released the album Komeda with his Polish-Norwegian quartet. These aren’t simply straightforward interpretations of jazz standards; the album is rather a conversation between the four musicians focused around familiar themes. Sometimes the musical phrases quoted from Komeda are intricately coded among the improvisations, and they’re often very dense. The title of Obara’s 2017 breakthrough album, Unloved, is taken from Krzysztof Komeda’s composition Niekochana (Unloved) from Janusz Nasfeter’s film of the same title. In an interview, he stated: ‘I think playing Polish music has also helped me, especially performing Krzysztof Komeda’s compositions together with Tomasz Stańko’. Asked how he developed his unique compositional character, Obara replied that Komeda’s style made him very sensitive and pushed him to find his own sound.

‘Jazz is a distinctly American kind of music, but Komeda was gifted with the ability to give this Americanness something of our own – a Polish sensibility and nostalgia. It’s hard to put into words, although these are simple things, simple motifs, which were able to convey a trillion messages by means of only two sounds’, said Marek Pędziwiatr, leader of the band EABS. With the album Repetitions (Letters to Krzysztof Komeda), released in 2017, the world of the Polish pianist was appropriated by hip-hop culture. In addition to typical jazz instruments (brass, keyboards, guitars), the septet’s line-up also features a turntable, rap, and excerpts of dialogue from films. One of the tracks features Michał Urbaniak – the spiritual patron of the group. We can hear ballet etudes, film music, and compositions from the ‘Jazz and Poetry’ series. Sometimes the musicians stray very far from the original, paraphrasing motifs from Komeda’s work. There are moments, for example in the composition Niekochana (Unloved), when they build an atmosphere of eeriness and anxiety in this music. Through their spontaneity, changing dynamics and spirited musical playfulness, nostalgia often shines through.

To list all the good albums dedicated to or making reference to the music of the great romantic of Polish jazz is a difficult task, but a few more are worth mentioning. On his album titled Komeda, released in 2011, Leszek Możdżer oscillates between very intimate music, played as if he’s at home in front of a fireplace, and the grandeur and dramatic gestures of a pianist performing Chopin. The final piece on the album, Moja Ballada (My Ballad), is abruptly interrupted, then we hear Możdżer’s voice saying, ‘Oh, it’s not so easy here’, and then the sound of a page in the score being turned.

On their album The Wrong Vampire, released in 2012, the band Baaba plays music inspired by Polanski’s film The Fearless Vampire Killers. This is a version of Komeda that’s wild and funny, full of electronic effects and not striving for jazz perfection. Komeda Ahead by the Oleś brothers and vibraphonist Christopher Dell, released in 2014, is pleasant jazz with a very deep sound, quite classic but also innovative – the economical interpretation of Kattorna is one of the most interesting interpretations of this piece. On When Angels Fall, released in 2019, Wojtek Mazolewski’s quintet plays some of Komeda’s most famous pieces with a very respectful and relaxed approach – he highlights their universal beauty, while also adding a bit of humour to them.

A lullaby for Komeda

Roman Polański's Rosemary's Baby Japanese film poster, 1968, photo: Museum of Cinematography in Łódź — Poster for the film 'Baby Rosemary / Rosemary's Baby' directed by Roman Polański, 1968, photo from the collection of the Cinematography Museum in Łódź

Discerning jazz enthusiasts all over the world are familiar with the work of Krzysztof Komeda. After all, as we’ve seen, it’s an important point of reference for artists associated with the ECM label founded by Manfred Eicher – one of the most recognisable music labels in the world. His influence isn’t limited to jazz lovers, as the lullaby from Rosemary’s Baby is one of the most recognisable melodies in the history of cinema. It has inspired dozens of composers, especially those specialising in music for horror films. It has been used by rock bands, jazz ensembles, and vocalists, and it has also been sampled in electronic music. Let’s take a look at some of these examples.

Komeda’s lullaby melody can be found on many records from the legendary Polish Jazz series. On the album Krzysztof Sadowski and his Hammond Organ, Krzysztof Sadowski plays the lullaby tenderly, with a bluesy twist. He’s entirely alone for the last minute, without the band – we hear only the Hammond organ. At some points he plays many notes, creating eerie chords, then he draws barely audible notes from the instrument in order to eventually perform a sweeping solo that could be a passage from a gospel song.

On the album Feelings, the singer Marianna Wróblewska is accompanied by a small group of musicians: Sławomir Piwowar on guitar, Janusz Kozłowski on bass and Włodzimierz Nahorny on piano. In this piece, we hear only the sounds of the guitar, often just a gentle strumming, with the guitarist rarely playing fuller phrases. Wróblewska makes all sorts of noises: squeaks, squawks, cries, and moans. She does it all with moderation, and doesn’t try to surprise the listener with advanced vocal techniques – for most of the song she simply sings in a delicate, sometimes faltering voice.

The lullaby played by pianist Mieczyslaw Kosz on the album Mieczyslaw Kosz Trio (released by the Record Club of the Polish Jazz Association) focuses on dynamics, colours, and mood. Komeda’s lullaby was actually performed at Kosz’s funeral by the aforementioned Sławomir Piwowar.

Komeda’s lullaby was also played by two American mainstream jazz musicians and big band leaders – Stan Keaton and Gerard Wilson. Keaton’s arrangement is reminiscent of action movie music; full of tension, but not horror. Wilson’s interpretation is much more interesting; some phrases are strangely repeated or reworked. In some moments the melody comes close to the poetics of soul music.

A preview of the film 'Baby Rosemary' directed by Roman Polański, 1968, photo: Polfilm / East News

The lullaby from Rosemary’s Baby also interested musicians who were successful in the field of music production. Chet Atkins was a guitarist and producer responsible for creating the ‘Nashville sound’, a commercial version of country music. He worked with many famous musicians including Dolly Parton, Elvis Presley, and the Everly Brothers. Atkins’s interpretation of the lullaby is very cowboy-like, which at times seems rather absurd – the jangly sound characteristic of American guitarists is hardly suited to the tune. Harvey Averne, in turn, is the composer and producer to whom we owe the ‘New York sound’ – American reinterpretations of various Afro-Cuban and Latin American dances, which he usually sold with the simple label of ‘salsa’. His version of Komeda’s lullaby begins like a calm samba, but many other elements appear at the culminating moment – more danceable brass instruments and a spectacular guitar solo. Arif Mardin, one of the most important producers of disco music who collaborated with Chaka Khan and the Bee Gees, also took on the famous melody, transforming it into orchestral disco-soul.

The lullaby from Rosemary’s Baby was particularly popular with artists specialising in the genre known as ‘easy listening’, ‘mood music’, or ‘lounge music’, which had its golden years in the 1960s. It was primarily commercial music, written to provide a low-key soundtrack for radio stations, shops, lifts, and beauty salons. The arrangements were supposed to be pretty and catchy, but not too intrusive. Often ‘pleasant’ sounds were used, for example vibraphone and marimba. Most of the songs were simply reworkings of pop hits, jazz standards, and even pieces from the repertoire of classical composers. The lullaby found its way into the repertoires of The Brass Ring, Charlie Byrd, 101 Strings, Doc Severinsen, Enoch Light and the Light Brigade, Raymond Lefèvre, and others. In these performances, it usually lost its eerie atmosphere.

The lullaby was also used by avant-garde musicians. Andrzej Bauer and his Cellonet ensemble of cellists exploring the sound possibilities of this instrument invited Leszek Możdżer to perform Komeda’s piece. In addition to the sounds of the piano and cellos, in this version we also hear breathing and other noises made by the musicians. The melody is sustained in an even, almost driving pace, and by means of minor sounds and musical elements the musicians create musical narratives around the hypnotic rhythm.

Another interpretation was created by Fantômas, a group led by the American experimental vocalist Mike Patton, who has a vocal range of six octaves. His lullaby could be performed at the Grand Guignol – Patton sings at times in a soft, child-like voice, only to start shouting hoarsely later. Sounds reminiscent of a barrel organ and children’s toys can be heard in the background.

Komeda preserved

magdalena-grzebalowska-komeda.-osobiste-ycie-jazzu.jpg — Okładka książki Magdaleny Grzebałkowskiej, fot. materiały promocyjne

In order to keep Komeda alive, we must remember what kind of man he was and what he created. In her book Komeda: A Private Life in Jazz, Magdalena Grzebałkowska made an attempt to describe the pianist’s personality and explore the relationships he had with others. She recounted the cultural history of jazz in communist Poland – what the parties, romances, and conversations were like, and what one had to do in order to survive from month to month. The author thoroughly searched archives and other sources from the era, and she also met with people who had known Komeda – some of whom were able to speak publicly for the first time. Previous publications about Komeda had presented some events solely from the point of view of Zofia Komeda – the great musician’s widow, former manager, and guardian of his legacy (it’s thanks to her that Komeda’s music has survived to this day).

Apart from the lively, constantly emerging new interpretations of Komeda’s music, the last few years have seen the release of many interesting archival albums that we didn’t have the opportunity to hear before (or to which there had been very limited access). Leading the way is Polish National Radio, which from 2014 to 2019 released the Krzysztof Komeda on Polish Radio series consisting of eight CDs and one vinyl record. It includes the earliest recordings of Komeda, dating back to the 1950s, his ballet and film music, and collaborative performances with Jerzy Milian. Recordings of performances by Komeda’s various band line-ups from the Jazz Jamboree festivals can also be found on CDs issued by Polish National Radio in the Polish Radio Jazz Archives series.

Concert of the jazz band Melomani, Ustronie Morskie 1958. From the left: Andrzej Trzaskowski, Witold Sobociński, Andrzej 'Idon' Wojciechowski, Krzysztof Trzciński (Komeda) and Jerzy 'Duduś' Matuszkiewicz, photo: CAF / PAP

Komeda’s music is also preserved on vinyl records. The British label Harkit Records, specialising in reissues of rare soundtracks, has released three seven-inch records of works composed by Komeda for Polanski films: Rosemary’s Baby, The Fearless Vampire Killers, and Cul-De-Sac. DJs and music publishers Andy Votel (Finders Keepers) and Jonny Trunk (Trunk Records) often speak of their love for Komeda’s music. Votel has released a seven-inch reissue of tracks from Knife in the Water (in the Cacophonic series). Trunk’s online shop provides remastered files of Komeda’s early works – including ballet etudes and trio recordings from 1960.

Ninety years after his birth and over 50 years since his death, it seems we’re still able to say: ‘Komeda lives’.

^{Originally written in Polish, translated by SG, Nov 2021}

^{Sources: Magdalena Grzebałkowska, "Komeda. Osobiste życie jazzu ", Warszawa 2018; Aneta Norek-Skrycka, "Man of the Light. Życie i twórczość Zbigniewa Seiferta ", Warszawa 2016; Andrzej Makowski, "Ja, Urbanator. Awantury muzyka jazzowego ", Warszawa 2011; Rafał Księżyk, Tomasz Stańko, "Desperado. Autobiografia ", Kraków 2010; Krzysztof Karpiński, "Tylko smutek jest piękny. Opowieść o Mieczysławie Koszu", Kraków 2019; https://polishjazzarch.com/; Polskie Radio}

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