Bill Evans
Turn Out The Stars

Reviewing Bill Evans? Who do you think you are: Pino Candini? Leonard Feather? Mullah? No, don't be afraid :-) I simply intend to highlight, with some negligible notes in support, this beautiful six-CD set (yes: a full six CDs!).

If "You must believe in spring" represents the testament, "Turn out the stars" constitutes the substantial legacy of Bill Evans. Captured during his last engagement at NYC's Village Vanguard in 1980, just a few months before he passed away. A connection that immediately comes to my mind is with "Bolero," the beautiful film by Lelouche (the one from 1981; there are at least two others: one from '34 and one from '84) where different unrelated plots and personal stories find a common denominator at the end of the film. Well, in this work, the pianist narrates in the first person, with notes instead of linguistic terms, and talks to us about life and states of mind; of anger and loneliness; of journeys and an empathetic communication at the highest level with other artists on stage who, in this case, are two musicians as proficient as Marc Johnson and Joe La Barbera. Companions for two years, to whom he often gives the scene on the record: necessary space to build a dialogue of emotions in a call and response with the audience. Some pieces are obviously repeated, as the tracks were recorded over several evenings at the venue.

The setting, the arrangement of the pieces repeat, therefore, but what is new each time is the feeling, or perhaps the quality and arrangement of notes and chords on the temporal scale: sometimes accentuating a syncopation or renewing a phrase; perhaps even giving here and there a "minor" color, more somber or "major," more joyful. "My romance" is performed at high speed, almost symbolizing the stylized traits with which painters paint, synthetically, quickly but without smudges, in full maturity or anyway at the twilight of an artistic life: Bill's pianism is here at its highest possible level and all the episodes that happened to him during life, all the musical collaborations, all the pain or joys experienced flow into this recording. Even Bill often closes even difficult pieces with a quick tour of chords in "stride," to which the two rhythms quickly join, then explode in collective laughter with the audience!

A communicative Bill Evans, who during these last concerts, perhaps feeling prescient, even talked to the spectators (never happened before!) and exhausted his energy groove, renouncing to "imply" but instead explaining with a bunch of consecutive notes and arpeggios. Bill Evans transforming Bill Evans himself. Often unrecognizable yet stellar. Six disks to listen to often, containing really a lot. On many occasions, he indulges in the long, very long intro: just hinting at the theme and exasperating, stretching the wait; offering time a mini-piano solo concert trial that truly gives you the measure of what heights the pinnacle of art can reach if the stars are still on.

A Glenn Gould fused with global ideas of transcontinental and popular musical democracy. Marc Johnson: the articulation of the pieces often entails quite a responsibility for Marc, as the central melodic leading element; just supported by a couple of very discreet brush shots timed and delicate piano chords. When he's not even left alone to face the audience: upright and solid like a warrior; peaceful, competent, and mighty, playing up there, pulling notes, totally digressing from the central theme to then return to it to chase Bill and Joe until the end of the piece. Joe: his solos are played and musical; integrated into the musical matter and even enjoyable (contrary to the average!) and his contribution is decisive in providing enormous energy to an Evans who rejoiced indescribably in the collaboration with these two huge young musicians.

It's not a review, and I apologize for that: it's a pure and uncritical elegy. But you will forgive me thinking that I write only and exclusively when I have something absolutely valuable in my hands; in the end, I frankly don't think I'm able to "review" Bill Evans, but as a jazz music user for decades, I definitely know how to recognize one of the twenty jazz albums to be included in the time capsule.

And this is one of them.