Bill Evans
You Must Believe In Spring

The creative contradiction begins with the cover: under a title translatable as "You must believe in spring" stands a beautiful drawing depicting barren trees and a mist enveloping them, perfectly in line with the atmosphere of the performances contained in the CD: an autumn afternoon atmosphere, with the rain beating outside the window and a myriad of thoughts passing through your mind as you watch.

So the invitation of the title goes out the window... after all, the composition bearing its name, a song by French composer Michel Legrand written for the soundtrack of the film "Les Demoiselles de Rochefort", is here rendered in a nostalgic and evocative version truly poignant, which despite being moderately colored with swing in the pianist's central solo, cannot absolutely distract you from the aforementioned view out the window; rather, it deepens it, perhaps inviting you to accompany it with a glass of Ballantines for the palate. The creative contradiction continues with the listening: it is truly incredible the dichotomy between Evans' inner world, a man with a tormented soul, grappling with a drug addiction that would accompany him for much of his life, saddened and darkened by his personal and family affairs, and the candor and innocence of his music, which unfolds in unparalleled delicacy and lyricism: he allows himself the luxury of opening the work with a "Waltz in B minor" of his own composition dedicated to his first wife Ellaine (who committed suicide after learning of his intention to divorce her) that would not look out of place compared to those of 19th-century romantic authors in terms of structure, melodic fragrance, and emotional involvement of the listener.

Here we are no longer in the jazz realm; the improvisation during the three minutes and twelve seconds of the aforesaid waltz is completely absent, but neither could it be said that we are on the ground of proper classical music, considering the support offered by the double bass and drums... much more simply, we are listening to the music of Bill Evans, which manifests itself again in the four minutes of poetry of the exceptional "We will meet again", dedicated to his brother Harry (who would take his own life shortly thereafter!!!). The splendid melody of the piece in question truly leaves one breathless: and one wonders why such a jewel was not recovered after the pianist's death, as a tribute to his figure, perhaps by Keith Jarrett's trio! It was preferred to leave it here, among the folds of this splendid work, as a perpetual testimony to Evans' art. The final contradiction encapsulates and summarizes the others: we are in the presence of one of the best artistic achievements of Bill Evans' entire career, his pianism has become even more intense and engaging over time, the partners who support him in this circumstance are almost at the level of Paul Motian and Scott la Faro (an Elliott Zigmund who immersed the drumsticks in cotton balls before gently placing them on the drum cymbals and an Eddie Gomez with a deep sound, who also engages in some noteworthy solos), the quality of recording and sound is of the highest qualitative level... and didn't Our Man go and die only three years after such a masterpiece?

In fact, he had not given the go-ahead for publication, so it would be released on the record market only after his disappearance. In this way, paradoxically, the shadows that envelop it will have a precise and further meaning, and his melancholic and intimate character will eternally stand out as a testament.

The testament of one of the most important musicians of the twentieth century, without any doubt.