'An Unprecedented Discovery': Those Prepared Piano Revelations of Pianist Jessica Williams
Flipping through the jazz records at a local record store a few years ago, producer Kye Potter found a worn cassette by American pianist Jessica Williams. It seemed like the ultimate homemade project. "The labels had detached from the tape," he recalls. "It was copied at home, with xeroxed liners, a little bit of highlighter to accentuate the artwork, and put out on her own label, Ear Art."
For a collector keenly focused on the American musical avant garde following John Cage, Potter was captivated by a tape titled Prepared Piano. But it appeared atypical for Williams, who was primarily recognized for creating vibrant jazz in the direct lineage of Thelonious Monk and Errol Garner.
Although the west coast jazz circuit knew her as a musical experimenter â at her live shows, she requested pianos with the top removed to allow her to access the interior and play the strings directly â it was a aspect that rarely made it on her albums.
"I'd never heard anything like it," Potter states regarding the tape. Therefore, he wrote to Williams to see if additional recordings existed. She responded with four recordings of modified piano from the mid-80s â two concert recordings, two recorded in a studio. And though she had long since retired previously, she also shared some recent work. "She sent me approximately 15 or 16 synthesizer recordings â full releases," Potter recounts.
A Final Collaboration: Blue Abstraction
Potter collaborated with Williams in the pandemic era to assemble Blue Abstraction, an album of prepared piano pieces that was published in late 2025. But Williams died in 2022, during the project. She was 73. "She was dealing with physical and economic challenges," Potter states. Williams had been open regarding her hardships following spinal surgery in 2012, which meant she could no longer tour, and a cancer discovery in 2017. "However, I believe her personality, strength, self-confidence and the peace she found through her spiritual pursuits all were evident in conversation."
In her subsequent synthesizer-driven, rhythm-based 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 attempting to escape expectation. Blue Abstraction, with its intriguingly altered piano echoes, demonstrates that that desire stretched back decades. In place of a uniform piano sound, the piano creates a multitude of sonic impressions: what could be hammered dulcimers, gamelan, distant church bells, creatures in enclosures, and tiny engines spluttering into life. It possesses a powerfully immediate energy, with massive roars collapsing into growling, sharply accented riffs.
Critical Acclaim
Musician Jeff Parker says he is a fan of this "gorgeous, diverse, exploratory and nuanced" record. Jessika Kenney, who has collaborated with Sarah Davachi and Sunn O))), experienced Williams play while attending school in Seattle in the 1990s, and was captivated by the force of her music, but knew little of her otherworldly prepared piano prior to this release. Soon after attending Williams live, she traveled to Indonesia, seeking "surrealism in the improvisational vocals of the Javanese gamelan," she recalls. "Now that seems completely natural as a link with her. I only wish it was known to me then."
Technical Precursors
Williamsâ prepared sounds have artistic antecedents: reflect on John Cageâs altered keyboards, or the radical techniques of American eccentric Henry Cowell. Whatâs striking is how successfully she merges these new sounds with her own bluesy vocabulary at the keyboard. The language hardly ever strays from that which she cultivated in a body of work stretching to more than 80 albums, so that the new hallucinogenically hued sounds are powered by the effervescent force of an performer in complete command. This is electrifying music.
A Lifelong Experimenter
Williams consistently explored the piano. "When I played, I visualized colors," she once explained. She received her first upright piano in 1954. On her blog, she told the story of her first "dismantling" â "as Iâve done for all pianos," she commented: Williams removed a panel from under the pianoâs keyboard, and set it on the floor next to her stool. "Seeking rhythm, my left foot turned into the hi-hat pedal," she explained.
Williams originally learned classical piano at the Peabody Conservatory. Youthful exposures with the classical repertoire led her to Rachmaninov; she presented his famous Prelude in C minor to her piano teacher, who chastised her for embellishing a section. Yet he recognized her potential: a week later, he brought her Dave Brubeck to play. She mastered his Take Five within a week.
Jazz World Disillusionment
Subsequently, Brubeck call Williams "one of the greatest pianists I have ever heard," and McCoy Tyner was just as awed. Williamsâ 2004 Grammy-nominated album Live at Yoshiâs, Vol 1, shows her deep immersion in jazz history, plus her signature clever pianistic wit. Yet, despite her dedicated efforts to educate herself the genre â first, to the contemporary approaches of Coltrane, Miles and Dolphy, before working her way back to Monk and Garner to Fats Waller and James P Johnson â she quickly became disenchanted with the jazz world.
Upon relocating from Philadelphia to San Francisco, Williams encountered the great Mary Lou Williams. Buoyed up by the elder pianist's advice ("Donât ever let anyone stop you"), she became a forceful, open critic of her scene: of the poor compensation, the jazz "male-dominated sphere," the "typical jazz socializing" â namely smoking and drinking as the primary means of getting gigs â and of a profit-driven sector benefiting from the efforts of financially strained musicians.
"I am repeatedly disappointed at the nature of the âjazz worldâ and its failure to organise, communicate and stand up for a set, any set, of core values," she penned in the liner notes to her 2008 release Deep Monk. Likewise, the writing on her blog was wide-ranging, unflinching, expressly political and feminist, though she infrequently addressed her experiences as a trans individual. As one critic noted: "To add to the sexism ⊠that chased her from her desired musical domain for a period, imagine what kind of cruel nonsense she must have endured as a trans woman in the jazz scene of the early 80s."
A Journey of Independence
The artist's trajectory moved toward self-sufficiency. Subsequent to a stint in the active Bay Area scene, she lived in smaller cities such as Sacramento and Santa Cruz, making a home in Portland in 1991, and later relocating to an even quieter place, to Yakima, Washington State, in the 2010s. Williams understood from the beginning the immense possibilities of the internet