A NIGHT WITH HOWARD BULSON AT THE MIRABEAU ROOM
Howard Bulson was one of Seattle’s finest lounge pianists and a personal favorite of my wife and her good friend Bergman Broom, both sharing the stage with him more than a dozen times. This series was shot two years ago when Howard had a steady gig at the Mirabeau Room, a trendy lounge/bar in lower Queen Anne. On this particular night, Bergman chose some obscure tunes from the roaring 20’s and Andie stuck to a traditional Ella Fitzgerald repertoire. Ages of all participants ranged from 22 to 80. Since this shoot, Howard passed away and the Mirabeau Room has shuttered its doors. Here’s an excerpt from the Seattle Post-Intelligencer:
May 8, 2007: Howard Bulson, a legendary lounge piano player whose encyclopedic song knowledge and spot-on accompaniment of both amateur and professional singers spanned four decades in Seattle bars, died Monday after a short illness. He was 72. His friends said pancreatic cancer was the cause. Always dapper in a pressed suit and tie, Bulson in fact was best known for making other people look good. In Seattle bars with a piano and an open microphone, the lanky Missouri native accompanied singers ranging in age from 90 to 21, from the rankest amateur to members of the Seattle Opera, some who counted themselves among his biggest fans.
“Howard was probably Seattle’s most gifted accompanist,” said Martin Palmer, owner of Martin’s Off Madison, a piano bar where Bulson often played four nights a week. “He was incredibly patient. It didn’t matter if you were a professional or amateur, he’d always work with you and make you sound better. “Howard would tell you what key you needed to be in.” Bulson never needed sheet music, never got stumped by a request and never lost his patience with anyone but the showoff drunks. They would be met with a withering stare and silent keyboard midsong. Only when the offender sat down would Bulson resume. A collector of sharp suits and a lover of Sergei Rachmaninoff, he met Ruby C. Bishop-Schelling, who eventually became one of his closest friends over the past 40 years. For many years, Bulson kept his 9-foot Steinway in her recreation room. Every day, he’d practice for three hours and then go play five more at work.
Bishop-Schelling, also a piano player who accompanies only herself, said she never understood Bulson’s patience while absorbing the barge-load of bad notes and off-keys he’d hear people belt out each night. “Oh God, I wouldn’t do it. I don’t play for singers; it’s like shooting myself in the foot,” she said. “But Howard, he had the patience of Job. He’d never put anyone down. He was a great player and great man.”
