Spotlight: We’re All “Just Wild About Harry”

Harry Connick, Jr. Comes to the Van Wezel

By Gus Mollasis

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There’s much to like about Harry Connick Jr. His voice. His arrangements. His unique take on the songbook of American standards. His acting chops. His gift of gab. His cool style. And the tremendous body of music that he’s orchestrated, arranged, and performed that take the listener on a musical storytelling journey. 

And for all those things and more, we’re all…”Just Wild about Harry”. 

For me, what I like the best about this man from Louisiana is his ability to be a regular guy who you could have, as Sinatra would say, a “Nice and Easy” conversation with on just about anything. 

And that’s just what I had with him—a nice and easy conversation. We connected as Harry was making arrangements for his current tour that would bring him to the Van Wezel Performing Arts Hall on March 20 to celebrate the music of Cole Porter.

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Hi Harry, How are you?

Hey, what’s going on?

I’m a meat man’s son. A kid from Detroit. My dad was a meat man and a songwriter who loved you as a performer.

Meat man as in…?

 …as in restaurant supplier.

Wow! That’s cool. 

It’s a cool story. Maybe I’ll tell it to you in person. I’m coming to the show.

That would be cool.

A good friend of mine was in the great Dolphin Tale movie with you. Tom Nowicki who played Philip J. Hordern. 

Oh yeah, Tom, he’s really a sweet guy. I had a great time with him.

Since we’re both native Detroiters and Detroit Lion fans, we’ve been miserable our whole lives. 

I’ll tell you. It’s one of those things where Matt Stafford is so great. You got to have that combination and you guys will get it.  

Thanks Harry, I could sit and talk football, but I know time is tight so let me get to it. This is tough, but please put into words the joy you get out of making music.

Yeah, it really is difficult. I was actually thinking about this last night. Music sort of takes over. It makes you stop. It’s another place to be. It’s like any kind of amazing distraction that allows you to focus…like fishing…football…whatever it is that allows you to completely focus and at the same time you’re creating something. A participatory distraction that can bring you joy. It can also bring you pain. A variety of emotions. Lots of times you feel joyous playing music, but other times you break down in tears just because it affects you in a certain way. One thing is for certain. It allows you the chance to be completely immersed in something creative. It doesn’t always happen like that. We all kind of come out of the reality we are in. It’s like a commercial during a Lions game. You know what I mean?

I’ve loved all your work, but recently having lost some friends in my life, I’ve been listening to your version of “Danny Boy”.  I’ve listened to it over and over. 

I’m going to tell you something that will freak you out. I’ve sung that song for a long time. But it’s been years since I have sung it just because you kind of go through cycles. As I’m getting ready to go on the road, I have a different band, so I don’t have any charts for this band and have no charts for this particular configuration. So, I’m writing all these new Cole Porter charts, some are based on the album, some of them aren’t, just to make something custom for the people and these upcoming concerts. And last night I put the last note down on “Danny Boy”. I’ve never written a chart for that tune. I’ve always done solo piano. And I started thinking what song that I’ve done that people may want to hear. And I finished it, left my office and went up to my room. My wife was watching TV and I said, “Jill, that ‘Danny Boy’ is just one of the heaviest tunes ever written.”  She said, “I just love it when you sing that song.”  So, we had a conversation about that song less than 12 hours ago and here you go talking about it.

Sometimes it’s a perfect universe. Thank you for letting me escape in that song. What was you earliest recollection of when you knew that music would be your life? Was it that moment when you got on stage and did a little Beethoven with the orchestra? Was it earlier or later? 

It was actually earlier. I remember my sister taking piano lessons from my cousin, Georgia, and I would hear that piano and I just liked it. I would go to the piano and plunk around on it. And for whatever reason I was able to kind of hear these melodies. You know very, very simple stuff. I became fascinated with it. The first time that I went on stage I was probably five years old. I got a chance to experience what happens when you press these little keys down and people listen to it. Regardless of why it was probably because I was five rather than for anything musically that I was doing. There was a connection there. People were paying attention to me and it made me feel good. The better I got, the more attention they paid. I remember thinking it was amazing. 

What’s the greatest lesson that you learned from your mom and pop? 

My mom used to tell me to be a leader all the time. I remember when the lunch bell rang, I would run from the classroom to the front of the lunch line. I would go home to mom and say, “Hey mom, I was a leader today.” She would laugh. I never knew why. It wasn’t until later that I realized what that means. We are presented with these options and we have to choose the ones that are the right ones albeit artistically, ethically, morally or philosophically. But we all make the wrong choices sometimes and that’s what being a leader means. And sometimes it means being on an island and being on an island for a real long time. And you have to be okay with the decision that you make and have to think about it very carefully. 

My dad, as simple as this sounds, would always say, “Be on time and be nice to people. If you can do those two things, you’re in pretty good shape.” And one more good piece of advice that a good buddy gave me: “Lazy people work the hardest.” If you go out to get firewood and you think you can make it in one trip and you drop some wood, you’re just going to take longer by having to pick it all up. Go ahead and make two trips. Lazy people work the hardest. I think about that every single day. You see a short cut and you end up spending more time. I’ve had some good advice.

How much do you like making movies and films and is it comparable to how you feel when you make music?

I get the same level of thrill from it. Yet it’s different in way but it has an equal level of escapism and fantasy for me. When you’re doing a role and you’re completely there and working with someone, whether it’s a director or other actor who is as good or better than you, someone like Hillary Swank and Renee Zellweger, people who you really learn from, it’s a profound experience. Like doing Broadway. Every night you come off stage and think what just happened. It’s really a weird sensation. I love that. I love any kind of creativity.

As both an Emmy and Grammy winner you’re halfway to joining an elite group of EGOT winners (Emmy, Grammy, Oscar, and Tony). Is that something you think about or is it the furthest thing from your mind?

I don’t think about that. There was a time when I thought negatively about it because how can you possibly objectively compare art? It’s not like stats in a football game. You just can’t do that. Even if there is objective craftsmanship involved in whatever genre you’re talking about—filmmaking, music or whatever.  If a Billie Eilish song means something to you and a Harry Connick song doesn’t, end of discussion. It doesn’t matter. But there came a time when I got older that I realized that every award and nomination is an honor because somebody took the time to include your work in a process that they thought was important enough to recognize. Then you also realize it’s the currency by which people measure success. I am certainly honored when those things come around. 

Time capsule a couple tunes from your repertoire that you would like future generations to hear 100 years from now.  What are they?

That’s a great question. There’s a song called “To See You”. That’s one that I think represents my lyric writing, melody, singing and orchestration and all of that. That’s a really cool one. And there’s another song called “Other Hours” which is another example of my writing and singing.

Is the biggest challenge reintroducing standards balancing new arrangements while honoring the original work?

No, because you don’t need to honor that. You can literally rip these songs apart and perform them in any style you want and they’re not going to lose integrity. The biggest challenge is to come up with something that satisfies my musicality and something that I think people can enjoy. And that’s a tough line to walk because it’s very easy to slip into a music that’s so obscure that nobody gets it and on the other hand write things for people and then you’re not doing your own art. That’s the biggest challenge.   

Many years from now, and I hope you take Kirk Douglas’s years, after all the songs have been written and sung and the piano keys have been tapped, how do you want to be remembered?

I just want to be remembered. I don’t care how they remember me. Sometimes when I’m on tour people come up and say, “Hey what are you doing in town?” And I say, “I’m on tour.” And they say, “Doing what?” They know me from Dolphin Tale. I would like to be remembered. Period. I lived a pretty non-eventful life in terms of trying to be nice and as kind as I can be, so hopefully the memories will be nice. That’s all I want man.

For tickets to Harry Connick, Jr. – True Love: An Intimate Performance honoring the songs of Cole Porter, visit vanwezel.org or call the box office at 941.263.6799.