New CD 2012 - Part Three

Bill Evans ( with Eddie Gomez and Marty Morell )
Momentum

By Ken Dryden
During the last decade of his life, Bill Evans had developed such a devoted fan base that many of his performances were audience-recorded, particularly when he toured Europe. This previously unissued concert was recorded in Groningen, The Netherlands with the approval of the pianist's manager Helen Keane, but remained in private hands until its release four decades later. The music was well recorded and the tapes were properly stored, so there is no problem from aging. Evans' trio with bassist Eddie Gomez and drummer Marty Morell is in top form throughout this concert, while the repertoire will be familiar to the leader's fans. The pianist is in a reflective mood, especially on his introspective "Re: Person I Knew." Evans' former bassist Scott LaFaro had died tragically just days after the trio's historic Village Vanguard recordings, but LaFaro's driving "Gloria's Step" remained in Evans' repertoire for the rest of his life; Gomez's adept playing is a highlight of this hard-charging performance. Composer/pianist Denny Zeitlin believes that Evans' performance of his requiem-like ballad "Quiet Now" is among the finest interpretations of Zeitlin's well-known work.
The second set finds the trio stretching out a bit more, with a brisk take of "My Romance" and a sparkling rendition of Evans' delicate ballad "Sugar Plum." The pianist's emotional side is prominent in his ballad "The Two Lonely People" and the moving take of Michel Legrand's timeless ballad "What Are You Doing the Rest of Your Life," while he turns "Who Can I Turn To" into a playful, upbeat celebration, showcasing Gomez's brilliant solo. Sadly, the engineer ran out of tape before the trio could complete their inevitable closing number, a tense setting of Miles Davis' modal masterpiece "Nardis," which became a signature song for the pianist not long after he recorded it as a sideman with Cannonball Adderley. The detailed liner notes by several contributors provide additional historical and critical perspective.

New CD - 2012 - Part Two

Bill Evans

The Sesjun Radio Show 

by Ken Dryden
Bill Evans was frequently recorded for radio broadcast during his various European tours, many of which ended up as bootlegs with incorrect song and personnel listings, poor audio, and incomplete tracks. Fortunately, everything is done right in this two-CD set, which is compiled from three separate performances between 1973 and 1979. The first five tracks are from a duo tour with the phenomenal bassist Eddie Gomez, who spent over 11 years with the pianist. The absence of a drummer (Marty Morell was evidently not a part of this tour, though he played with Evans into 1974) gives Evans a more intimate sound; Evans seemed to achieve an incredible E.S.P. playing with the talented Gomez. Following a buoyant opener, "Up with the Lark," the duo's moving setting of Evans' bittersweet, lyrical "Time Remembered" is a reminder of the pianist's total mastery of ballads, as is his equally touching "The Two Lonely People." There are plenty of fireworks in the pianist's "T.T.T. (Twelve Tone Tune)" as the two musicians use his dissonant theme as a jumping-off point for brilliant improvisations. The 1975 set adds drummer Eliot Zigmund, who spent four years with Evans. In these trio selections, the pianist introduces each theme alone, though it is a diverse five-song set. Evans' upbeat "Sugar Plum" showcases the leader extensively, with the rhythm section coming in several minutes later. There were several modern pop songs that drew the pianist's attention, including Bobbie Gentry's "Mornin' Glory" (which incorrectly lists Glen Campbell as co-writer), which Evans transformed into a potent jazz ballad. Evans' "T.T.T.T. (Twelve Tone Tune Two)" is even more demanding than its predecessor, with the trio navigating its pitfalls with ease in a wild, breezy performance. The 1979 tracks will be of great interest to Evans' fans. The new trio, with the brilliant young bassist Marc Johnson and superb, subtle drummer Joe LaBarbera, achieved a level of playing close to the pianist's group with Scott La Faro and Paul Motian. The trio selections cover familiar territory but find the band at its peak, highlighted by the lightly swinging take of Tadd Dameron's "If You Could See Me Now" and Evans' always introspective exploration of Miles Davis' "Nardis," the latter tune individually showcasing all three musicians. Harmonica virtuoso Toots Thielemans, who appeared on Evans' Affinity album, is a special guest on the last five songs, adding a sizzling solo to "Blue in Green" and getting to play his signature song "Bluesette" with the trio as well. The temporary quartet also nicely gels with a romp through Evans' longtime set closer "Five." The Sesjun Radio Shows is an essential collection for fans of Bill Evans.


By Dean R. Brierly (Studio City, CA)
Few jazz artists end up profoundly changing the way subsequent musicians approach their particular instrument. Bill Evans was one. Miles Davis recognized this fact when he hired Evans to play on the seminal recording "Kind of Blue." But even if that historic encounter had never occurred, Evans would still have been known as a pianist's pianist, a man whose unique phrasing, rhythmic sense and emotional color put him in an exclusive category of one. Like most great musicians, Evans was at his best in live settings, as his early 1960s and 1980 Village Vanguard recordings attest. Now, with this Sesjun Radio Shows two-disc set, fans have further opportunity to appreciate the deepened levels of his art throughout the 1970s. The pianist, who was to tragically die in 1980 at the age of 51, is featured in concerts from 1973 (a duo setting with bassist Eddie Gomez); 1975 (with Gomez and drummer Eliot Zigmund); and 1979 (with bassist Marc Johnson, drummer Joe LaBarbera and harmonica legend Toots Thielemans). Each of these concerts is distinct in character while remaining true to Evans' sound. The 1973 interplay between Evans and Gomez might be my favorite. Gomez matches Evans note for inventive note, and the minimalism of the setting really seems to inspire both men to greater heights. Evans' music has been described in lots of different ways, but I always think of him in terms of transfiguration. You can hear in his playing a continual attempt to keep setting the bar higher for himself, to say something new and profound each time his fingers touched the keyboard. And from a listener's perspective, one nearly always comes away from an Evans performance feeling a tangible sense of renewal and optimism. You can't ask more from music or a musician.

New CD - 2012

Bill Evans

Live At Art D´Lugoff´s Top Of The Gate

By C. Michael Bailey
Why is pianist Bill Evans so important to jazz? it is simple: every pianist to hear and perform after him was influenced by him. Art Tatum and Oscar Peterson may have been technically more brilliant and extroverted, but it took first Bud Powell and then Evans to turn the creative tables toward the muted and introverted, thereby beginning a jazz piano cultural revolution that continues to this day. Evans had an almost painfully personal style that, like late-period Art Pepper, bared naked his troubled soul in exquisite detail.
This never-before-released sides from Resonance Records, Live At Art D'Lugoff's Top of The Gate, is notable for having a couple of firsts: it's the first-ever documented Evans trio recordings of "My Funny Valentine" and "Yesterdays," while "Witchcraft" is Evans' only recording of this Cy Coleman-Carolyn Leigh song, aside from the 1959 studio version appearing on Portrait in Jazz (Riverside).
It is "My Funny Valentine," however, that shines most brightly. A ballad, always fertile territory for Evans' inward thinking, it is treated with an anathema hard swing by the normally quiet and thoughtful pianist. Evans tries to fool with an impressionistic introduction that, in time, fully dissembles into a full-fledged show tune for jazz piano trio. Bassist Eddie Gomez, perhaps Evans' greatest bass collaborator after the tragic loss of Scott LaFaro, plays his level best, guiding Evans, while drummer Marty Morell watches the tempo road signs.
It is Gomez that turns introspective (in a wordy fashion) on his solo, with Evans' bright accompaniment providing the bassist a spark of effervescence. This performance is nothing short of stunning and it may be quite proper that no one has emerged on piano to dethrone the last great muse of the 88 keys.
Personnel: Bill Evans: piano; Eddie Gomez: bass; Marty Morell: drums.


By Robert Carraher "The Dirty Lowdown"
Art D'Lugoff opened The Village Gate in 1958 with the idea of seeking out the the hottest talent, hosting prominent jazz artists, including Billie Holiday, Duke Ellington, Dizzy Gillespie, Aretha Franklin, and Miles Davis, as well as the best in comedy, including Bill Cosby, Mort Sahl, Woody Allen, and John Belushi. he turned away Bob Dylan, but gave him practice space in the basement. He fired a young Dustin Hoffman for providing poor table service. Playwright Sam Shepard once bused tables. For the next 3 and a half decades `The Gate' was a Jazz Mecca. If you got invited to play The Gate, you were somebody, or you were going to be somebody.
A few years after opening The Gate, and building on the success of the venue, he opened up a club upstairs, The Top Of The Gate. On a cool fall night in 1968, D'Lugoff had managed to book the great Thelonious Monk Quartet and The Charles Lloyd Quartet in The Village Gate. Upstairs, there was only one piano player that could top the legendary Thelonious Monk and that was Bill Evans. And on this same night Evans brought with him one of jazz's greatest ever trios, bassist Eddie Gomez and drummer Marty Morell.
In the audience that night was a 22 year old George Klabin who was invited to come down to the club and record 2 sets of the trio. This wasn't all that unheard of, a jazz lover being allowed to record live sets in clubs and as I have dozens of records to attest, it was usually disappointing at best and even disastrous on occasion.
I have dozens of "long lost live sets", that sound like they were recorded by a microphone hidden in a trash can at the back of the room. I have terrible recordings of all the greats; Dizzy, Parker, Monk, and even Miles. It's gotten to where I stopped buying live jazz recordings from the mid-seventies back without hearing them first. But Klabin, despite his age and maybe because of it, was driven to record the trio with the best technique a young budding recording engineer could at the time. Given unprecedented access to the stage and the artists by longtime manager, Helen Keane, Klabin meticulously placed separate mics on each member of the trio. What he got was a mix that is so clean that it nearly sounds as if it was done in a studio. It really is the next best thing to front row seats. It may even be the cleanest, lushest live recording of Evans ever captured.
Evans is perhaps the most important jazz pianist in post WWII jazz. He was known for reinterpreting jazz standards, but in a new way with liberal use of impressionist harmony, and his trademark rhythmically independent, "singing" melodic lines. This is at the forefront from the opening notes in the intro to the standard, "Emily" which ring out with a quiet brilliance as the background murmurs and tinkling of silverware of the assembled diners can be heard quieting in the background.
When Evans played this date, the great Eddie Gomez had been with him for two years, but amazingly - as the two sets will prove out - Morell had quite literally joined the trio that week. As is apparent, the trio quickly meshed under Evans leadership and vision. Here, they are at the top of their game, both collectively and as individuals playing within the frame work of Evans interpretations. Just take a listen to the way the bass and drum lock onto each other, then interact on the second set (disk 2) "Autumn Leaves". For more evidence check out the two versions of the three songs played in both sets on both disks; "Emily", "Yesterdays" and "'Round Midnight". It's a rare opportunity to hear the diverging takes on the same tune on the same night.
As producer Zev Feldman points out, several selections offered here possess historic significance; both "My Funny Valentine" and "Here's That Rainy Day" (and possibly "Mother Of Earl") mark Evans first documented trio performances of those songs, while "Here's That Rainy Day" may be the first time Evans recorded the piece, period.
If all that doesn't entice you into acquiring this album, the take note. Feldman and Klabin have worked very hard to assemble the historic and never heard before music with important context. the packaging alone, along with it's thick booklet of photos, information, notes from the evening written by Klabin (who is the Executive Producer and worked on mixing and restoration of his tapes) as well as the reminiscences of the two surviving players; Gomez and Morell, offering reflections of not only that night, but their entire time with Evans. Klabin also explains his methods of recording the two sets and restoring the tapes and Raphael D'Lugoff looks back at growing up in the two monuments to jazz that his father created. The booklet alone is worth the price, and that may be perfect as the music is indeed, priceless.

Radio Universitaria FM on Bill Evans

Dia 25/07 ( próxima quarta-feira ) as 21:00h estarei como convidado no programa "Encontro com o Jazz" do grande Mauricio Matos, ao lado do meu amigo Marcilio Xavier Adjafre. Apresentando uma hora sobre a vida e obra do imortal Bill Evans. Puro Eargasm !

Checar o site da Radio Universitaria FM 107,9 de Fortaleza/CE:http://radiouniversitariafm.com.br/ 

Next Wednesday July, 25th at 09:00 pm ( Brasilia/Brazil Local Time ). I'll be Co-Hosting the radio-program " Encontro com o Jazz " ( Meeting with Jazz ), with the great jazz host Mauricio Matos and my jazz friend Dr. Marcilio Adjafre, to talk about the life and music of Bill Evans. Pure Eargasm ! 

The Radio Universitaria  FM 107,9 from Fortaleza-Ceará website:

http://radiouniversitariafm.com.br 

Leonardo Barroso N Gondim at 

http://worldjazz.blogspot.com 

http://billevansjazz.blogspot.com

I Hate Double CD's ( and Nostalgia )

By Claudio Botelho
I really hate them. But, from time to time, I come across one when, without hesitation, I find listenable from start to finish. As a rule, CD1 differs from CD2, being one much worse than the other: too much blank space to be filled and this asks for much inspiration. Well, we don’t find inspiration stored in grocery stores… (Just a brief digression: the double vinyl I’d spent the most time listening in all my life was, UNDOUBTLY, Ahmad Jamal’s “Digital Works”, recorded in the eighties. It has became a single CD, but, irrespective of doubling matters, it was my most all time listened album. Listen, to check, his rendering of “A Time for Love” and learn how to fiery improvise a tune WITHOUT ever getting far away from it! Jamal is in the wings and will be spotted soon. I’m just waiting to receive his latest – “Blue Moon” – which comes highly recommended).
A fortnight ago, I wrote about one of my jazz heroes. His name is Eddie Gomez, he plays the acoustic bass and, for my personal amusement as a jazz lover, nothing tastes better.
In my writing, I said I was longing for a new double CD of a project he was part of, along with ChicK Corea and the recently deceased great drummer Paul Motian; this one another one-of-a-kind musician. I was salivating while waiting to put my hands on their “Further Explorations”…
So, contrary to my beliefs, these two CD’s would be very welcome this time and I was anticipating the great pleasure I would have to listen to the conjunction of these three musical icons of jazz. Gomez, certainly, would deliver his utmost, as this work was about Bill Evans and this, alone, would bring inspiration enough to fill more than two and a half hours of CD playing.
Besides, I would have, numerically, two thirds of an Evans trio, although lacking its head and main inspiration. Instead, I’d have Corea…
Granted, Corea is not Evans and one may ask if there are two more dissimilar pianists. Surely the answer is positive, but they DO are different from each other, aren’t they? If I were asked to summarize each in one word I’d call the first one “passionate” and the latter “lyrical”. They aren’t pieces of the same cloth, indeed!
Anyway, I would have, again, “Peri’s Scope”, Gloria’s Step”, “Laurie”, “ Turn Out the Stars”, “Very Early” and thirteen others which were performed throughout a ten days stint at Blue Note, in New York. Instigating would be to listen, for the first time ever, to an Evans theme named “Song nº1”(probably a provisory name, at the time of its composition, I gather), as much as seeing two former Bill Evans partners playing together.
Well, well, well… I hate double CDs, but this time, from the outset, I tell you: on that Friday night, I listened to it for some four hours in a row! Was I in front of something really outstanding, something never to forget about? Not really; there was some unevenness throughout the presentation. At times, Corea and Gomez seemed a bit strange to each other… I have a hunch Gomez more intricate lines had something to do with this. Besides, Corea is not exactly a sparse playing dude… Some overload of good intentions here! Two corps cannot occupy the same space at the same time, you know…
Motian, as usual: most of the time rounding off things with his cymbal playing, usually changing to a combination with strong drum whacks on solos. He, like Gomez, plays like anyone else. Those not acquainted with him, on first listening, may be misguided into thinking he’s playing at random. No, no, man, listen better!
Anyway, a bit more rehearsals would have helped the interplay, but this was a once-in-a-life adventure whose raison d’être was to honor Bill Evans, and, as it was, the objective was fulfilled.
On listening to some tunes, many times, tears came to my eyes, especially on the renderings of Evans songs. In particular, I was especially touched when tried “Laurie”, “Turn Out the Stars” and even the joyful “Peri’s Scope” and, now, a surprise: the hitherto recorded “Song n.º 1” which, on account of this, became a paradigmatic presentation. Corea was never so “Un-Corea” before. (just to be different from Mr. Chris Cooley, who, in his evaluation of this outing in his Amazon review, referred to Corea’s presentation as “Un-Chick”). For this, he abandoned his usually latin-flavored style to better suit the spirit of the song. For my money, this song is the highlight of the project.
Of course, in my case, there was a mix of feelings: I listened to all these songs by the time they were first recorded by Evans himself and had followed his career ever since, until his disastrous and untimely death. As much as I don’t want to admit, nostalgia has been playing an important role here: I was back at my early teens again. This experience has brought about many fond memories of so much delightful jazz musical sessions of my youth and, of course, Evans – the man who lived and died for his music – was the greatest hero, then.
But, in general, I don’t nurture nostalgia, as it is a kind of a denial of the present. When we get older, it is plain natural to become addicted to some habits which, sometimes, takes us a bit away from modern practices. I strongly strive not to be trapped by this. I try to lead my life as anyone else, although having much more certainties in my head and heart than before. But this is surely a good thing in getting older.
As I said, I try very hard to be up-to-date, but am I successful? I don’t know…
All told, I think you’d better read other reviews of this CD, as this effort of mine probably conjures some biasing. Or, try it for yourselves…
Meanwhile, I keep on hating double CD’s.

BREAKFAST WITH BILL EVANS

By BOB KENSELAAR


http://www.allaboutjazz.com/php/article.php?id=41417

Published: February 16, 2012

Originally published in The Aquarian Weekly, May 9-16, 1979

LaFaro, Gomez, Evans and Peterson or Peterson, Evans, Gomez and LaFaro (Your Choice) Just Some Reflexions

By Claudio Botelho
If there’s a bass player who makes me listen to everything he plays, his name is Eddie Gomez. Since his early days with Bill Evans, after replacing Chuck Israels who had taken the place of the subtly deceased and greatly mourned Scott LaFaro, he caught my attention as someone who, starting from where LaFaro stopped, took his duties with great gusto and passion and, more, in MHO, due to his great dexterity, deepened LaFaro‘s breakthrough! Between 1961 – the year of this young man passing, aged only 25 – and 1966, when Evans discovered Gomez, I think not much new happened.
From then on, things moved: if LaFaro had brought the bass from the kitchen and took it to the living room, Gomez placed it in its most alluring area, just before a great window from which it could envision and explore a new landscape.
What was the role of LaFaro and Bill Evans in this revolution? If the first introduced a new way to play, the latter recognized it in accepting to share the spots, so allowing the new trend to blossom. It seems to me the due belongs to both, as Evans’ humble spirit surely played a decisive part in bringing the bass to the forefront, by letting it shine along with his piano. The piano trio then started to be a joint venture: some departure from the way they used to be!
I could never listen much to LaFaro and his passing at such an early age prevented us from knowing what could he have done after that brilliant and short tenure with Evans, so, for me, his greatest merit was to show the bass could be much more than a rhythm setter or a pace “follower”… How would he be playing today? God knows…
Well, after LaFaros’s death and a somewhat long period of mourning and away from the piano, Evans went back to play and replaced his former bassist, as above said. Later, in ’66, entered Gomez and the bass chair, for the next eleven years, was filled from someone who, as stated earlier, brilliantly followed the steps of that antecessor.
Evans, in accordance with the way he thought a trio should play, let Gomez put out his abundant flow of notes which, in my view, took still further La Faro’s trend: through cascading pluckings in his instrument strings, in the most authoritative way, he played as if making a second chorus, while keeping his duties in the main theme. So, instead of one note at a time, he produced two, just like LaFaro did before him.
Certainly, the following eleven years were the most brilliants for Evans’ trio and the emphasis on interplay among its members, as set by Evans/Lafaro earlier, reached its pinnacle in recordings like “Bill Evans at Monteaux jazz festival ‘68”, “the Bill Evans Album”, of ’71 and “You Must believe in Spring”, from ’78; this last one enclosing the definitive rendering of the song “Theme from M*A*S*H”.
If the two recordings made earlier, in ’61, with Lafaro and Paul Motian, were indisputably set trenders, having an ethereal aura of beauty which remains amazing to these days and will be forever (and this thanks to a god-given way to play only Bill Evans could do), later, the Gomez years with this trio brought an interplay even greater among its members, with bolder and denser arrangements which took the mainstream jazz language to its limits. Without never leaving behind the gorgeousness of its music, the trio could be as sublime as assertive, as shows its Montreaux recordings (with Jack Dejohnette’s expansiveness on drums), for instance, or any other of the two above mentioned. As a matter of fact, there are others which could show this as well.
I’m not stating this transformation (or evolution), if I can name it like this, was directly related to Gomez, nor am I excepting it couldn’t be even greater were LaFaro still with Evans, I’m just describing what happened and, honestly, in any case, Evans should be taken as the main “culprit” for this, with or without Gomez.
Gomez was double lucky: came after La Faro and could play with Evans for so much time. No one can say (except, maybe, Gomez himself) how would he play weren’t La Faro with Evans before him, but I feel it is reasonable to think the latter had some influence in his playing, as much as, say, Tatum had something to do with the way Oscar Peterson treated the keyboards … It’s fair to say they both had listened to their respective antecessors and, in a way or another, introduced, later, some elements of their music in their performances…
The busillis is: how would both play if their two very famous antecessors never existed? Some say Peterson was a shallow imitator of Tatum, an affirmation I strongly disagree: Peterson, in his years of Europe recordings for MPS, did some very exceptional works, exploring the possibilities of the piano with a dexterity never done before (or even afterwards) and for many times! Gomez has been sporting his wonderful and powerful bass playing for so long and both have crossed the extant borders and went way out beyond, although by much more “fine tuning” what existed than, properly, introducing new insights into this art.
Here, arise two questions related to some lack of acknowledgement from the part of us - jazz listeners - they suffer: didn’t we get used to their prolifctiness and just took them a little for granted? Second: the fact they did not introduce any “new wave”; any new “approach” in expressing themselves could have spoiled the recognition of their work, no matter how exceptional they are? You judge…
I’m just writing all this to express my great admiration for Gomez playing. He is my all time favorite bass player and I am eagerly waiting for his upcoming CD with Chick Corea and Paul Motian.
Meanwhile, I invite you to listen a recording he made with master pianist Guido Manusardi and Gianni Cazzola, for Splasc(h) Records, some twenty years ago, called “So That”.
As I said above, these are just some reflexions.
Ptum, ptrum, ptrumtuptrum…

Tribute Recordings 2012 - 1

Niño Josele
Paz

By Michael G. Nastos
You would be hard pressed to find another recording where a flamenco guitarist interprets the music of Bill Evans. This one has Nino Josele playing select pieces performed and beloved by the modern jazz piano icon, and in three instances composed by him. A variety of settings are used, from solo acoustic guitar, some duo and vocal efforts, guitar-bass-drums, and a few guest cameos. The sound of Josele through Evans is thoughtful, introspective, facile, understated and romantic. Dynamics are shaded with a sweet restraint aside confidence in doing the music justice. The CD opens with the perfect prologue, the Evans overture "Peace Piece," as delicate and pristine a composition as anyone has ever written, played perfectly. Then the pace quickens as Josele and his trio kick up "Waltz for Debby," at first in typical 3/4 time, then in a higher 4/4 gear. The third Evans evergreen "Turn out the Stars" is more typically in flamenco style apart from all the other selections, again with the trio. There are six standards, the highlights being solo guitar samplings of "When I Fall in Love" and a multitude of distinct Spanish styles showcased during "The Dolphin," Jimmy Rowles ballad "The Peacocks" accented by Joe Lovano's piquant tenor sax, and Tom Harrell's trumpet playing an extrapolated melody on the second time repeat during "My Foolish Heart." "Hullo Bolinas" of Steve Swallow may be the unexpected choice of the recording, another slow ballad (of many) done with guitar and Marc Johnson's bass only. Also unexpected but less effective is Freddy Cole's reading of Paul Simon's "I Do It for Your Love." As a whole this project is well paced and placed, executed with plenty of soul, and should prove a discovery for those not familiar with Josele's excellent musicianship.