Bill Evans
Explorations

Bill Evans was an educated man.

Bill Evans knew.

Reviewing a work by Evans, whatever it may be, is never a simple task; to do so, one must indeed be able to explain a very particular sensation: that of warmth that pervades our brain, helping it to free itself from every superfluous thought; warmth that then goes straight to the heart, enveloping it and making it its own.

Bill Evans had the extraordinary ability to let himself go but, at the same time, to always choose the right notes; those same notes that, listening to them half a century later, continue relentlessly to touch chords of the soul that perhaps even we ourselves didn’t think we had.

"Explorations", recorded in 1961 in the company of Scott LaFaro and Paul Motian, is no exception, and is one of the cornerstones of Evans' work. From a musical standpoint, the melodic and stylistic skill of this Trio is as exquisite as one could listen to. Three musicians at the service of one another, forming a unique instrumental entity, ranging from delicate and fragile ballads to lively piano compositions, all played on the fascinating contrast between Evans' calm and dramatic piano and LaFaro’s exuberance and the depth of the double bass.

For albums like this, mentioning titles is almost unnecessary, although it would be interesting to talk about the stylistic perfection of a small gem like the initial "Israel", a mix of robust swing and equally robust double bass strokes; one could speak of the refinement and sonic drama of "Haunted Heart", a composition where Evans taps into all his lyricism and where Motian proves to be not just a simple accompanist, but a valuable creator of first-rate rhythmic frameworks; one could talk about the grace that pervades jewels like "I Wish I Knew" and the concluding "The Boy Next Door", but that’s not the point.

The key to understanding Evans' musical legacy is hidden well beyond the individual notes played: it all lies in recognizing within ourselves that imposing flow born from the pure and crystalline sounds that, little by little, enter us.

And there they remain.