'I'd Never Heard Anything Like It': Those Altered Instrument Revelations of Jazz Star Jessica Williams
Flipping through the jazz aisle at a local record store a few years ago, artist Kye Potter discovered a battered tape by American pianist Jessica Williams. It looked like the quintessential DIY release. "The labels had detached from the tape," he notes. "It was personally duplicated, with printed inserts, a dab of fluorescent marker to accentuate the artwork, and released on her own label, Ear Art."
For a collector particularly interested in the American musical avant garde after John Cage, Potter was intrigued by a tape titled Prepared Piano. Yet it seemed out of character for Williams, who was best known for producing sparkling jazz in the conventional style of Thelonious Monk and Errol Garner.
While the west coast jazz circuit knew her as a sonic explorer â during her performances, she required pianos with the top removed to allow her to reach inside and play the strings directly â it was a aspect that infrequently appeared on her records.
"I'd never heard anything like it," Potter comments regarding the tape. Consequently, he contacted Williams to inquire if any more recordings were available. She responded with four recordings of modified piano from the 1980s â two concert recordings, two studio creations. Although she had long since retired years earlier, she also included some contemporary pieces. "She sent me approximately 15 or 16 electronic music cassettes â complete albums," Potter explains.
A Final Collaboration: Blue Abstraction
Potter worked with Williams in the pandemic era to assemble Blue Abstraction, an album of modified piano compositions that was released in late 2025. However, Williams died in 2022, midway through the project. She was seventy-three. "She was dealing with physical and economic challenges," Potter says. Williams had been public about her difficulties following spinal surgery in 2012, which prevented her from tour, and a diagnosis of cancer in 2017. "Yet I feel her character, fortitude, assurance and the peace she found through meditative practices all were evident in conversation."
Within her more recent electronic, groove-focused releases such as Blood Music (2008) â explicitly categorized "NOT JAZZ" â and the two Virtual Miles releases (2006 and 2007), you hear a artist trying to transcend convention. Blue Abstraction, with its curiously transformed piano reverberations, demonstrates that that drive reached back decades. Rather than a uniform piano sound, the piano creates many different sonic associations: what could be hammered dulcimers, Indonesian percussion, distant church bells, creatures in enclosures, and tiny engines coughing to start. It possesses a tremendously urgent energy, with monumental roars collapsing into snarling, highly punctuated riffs.
Artistic Recognition
Tortoiseâs Jeff Parker expresses he is a fan of this "beautiful, varied, investigative and subtle" record. Composer Jessika Kenney, who has collaborated with Sarah Davachi and Sunn O))), experienced Williams play while being a student in Seattle in the 1990s, and was captivated by the intensity of her music, but had scant knowledge of her surreal-sounding prepared piano before this release. Not long after seeing Williams live, she traveled to Indonesia, pursuing "the abstract vocalizations of the Javanese gamelan," she says. "Now that seems completely natural as a link with her. I only wish it was familiar to me then."
Historical Influences
Williamsâ prepared sounds have technical precursors: think of John Cageâs prepared pianos, or the groundbreaking approaches of American eccentric Henry Cowell. What is remarkable is how masterfully she merges these new sounds with her own jazzy lexicon at the keyboard. Her musical speech rarely departs from that which she cultivated in a catalog spanning more than 80 albums, meaning the new trippily tinted sounds are fueled by the fizzy energy of an artist in complete command. That's thrilling stuff.
An Eternal Tinkerer
Williams had always experimented with the piano. "Striking keys produced hues in my mind," she once explained. She received her first vertical piano in 1954. In her writings, she shared the anecdote of her first "disassembling" â "something I repeated for all pianos," she wrote: Williams detached a panel from below the pianoâs keyboard, and set it on the floor beside her stool. "Requiring percussion, my left foot acted as the hi-hat," she wrote.
Initially, Williams learned classical piano at the Peabody Conservatory. Initial experiences with the standard canon led her to Rachmaninov; she brought his famous Prelude in C minor to her piano teacher, who reprimanded her for altering a section. However, he detected her potential: a week later, he introduced her to Dave Brubeck to play. She figured out his Take Five within a week.
Industry Disappointment
In time, Brubeck describe Williams "among the finest pianists I have ever heard," and McCoy Tyner was equally admiring. Williamsâ 2004 Grammy-nominated album Live at Yoshiâs, Vol 1, exhibits her deep absorption in jazz history, plus her signature clever pianistic wit. Nevertheless, despite her dedicated efforts to learn about the genre â first, to the more modern styles of Coltrane, Miles and Dolphy, before moving backwards to Monk and Garner to Fats Waller and James P Johnson â she rapidly felt disappointed with the jazz world.
Upon relocating from Philadelphia to San Francisco, Williams was introduced to the great Mary Lou Williams. Inspired by the senior musician's advice ("Donât ever let anyone stop you"), she turned into a outspoken, vocal critic of her scene: of the low wages, the jazz "old boys' network," the "typical jazz socializing" â namely smoking and drinking as the main method of landing performances â and of a profit-driven sector profiting from the work of financially strained musicians.
"I am continually disappointed at the truth of the âjazz worldâ and its inability to coordinate, express, and advocate for a set, any set, of core values," she stated in the liner notes to her 2008 release Deep Monk. Similarly, the writing on her blog was wide-ranging, direct, openly political and feminist, though she rarely discussed her experiences as a transgender woman. As one critic noted: "To add to the sexism ⌠that pushed her from her desired musical domain for a period, imagine what kind of inhumane bullshit she must have suffered as a trans woman in the jazz scene of the early 80s."
The Path to Self-Sufficiency
Her professional path arced towards self-sufficiency. Subsequent to a stint in the active Bay Area scene, she moved through smaller cities such as Sacramento and Santa Cruz, making a home in Portland in 1991, and later going to a more remote location, to Yakima, Washington State, in the 2010s. Williams recognized early the huge potential of the internet