Bill Evans: How My Heart Sings [Paperback] Review

As a jazz pianist who has studied Evans' music for nearly 40 years, it always struck me how Bill Evans could start out his career with such musical curiosity, adventure and brilliance, only to settle into a longperiod of simply going through the motions. And while Bill Evans goingthrough the motions is still a beautiful thing, now I know why. We all knewBill Evans was a junkie, but somehow dealing with it on an everyday basisin this book puts it all into perspective. Bill Evans started out straight,so straight that he didn't turn to drugs until he was already in thespotlight in Miles Davis' group (in contrast to someone like Stan Getz whowas into it from his earliest gigs). But unlike Davis and Getz, who hadlonger periods of sobriety to clean up their act and renew their approachto their craft, Bill Evans did not.
The result is a flash of light thatglows into the mid sixties, but then dies out in a sea of repetition,hemming in his style into a smaller and smaller box as he went along. Wesee the mind of an intelligent, educated man, drawing on his classicalinfluences to create a unique voice; we see perhaps his initial exposure todrugs producing a shimmering impressionistic sound that is foreverrecognizable, and then we see it all wear off into a self imposed lifesentence, cutting off his imagination, if not all of his feelings. BillEvans did not take care of himself, and for that we are all worse off. Thathe could die partially of malnutrition just underscores the very sadpoint.
One does see a curiously ascetic individual-drug abusenotwithstanding-who simply doesn't seem to care about much other than hisart (as he states in his video, The Universal Mind of Bill Evans). Someonealmost religiously wedded to this calling, who cares only about hisrelationship with his craft, and let the chips fall where they may. Thisdedication in jazz musicians, often with scant financial reward, is alwaysfascinating, and gives us all an understanding of what their commitmentmeans.
Pettinger does us all a great favor by chronicling his life, andhis knowledge of classical music is of great assistance as he traces Evans'influences among European composers. But his lack of knowledge of jazzalmost cancels that out, as he seems unable to interpret Evans' jazztechnique at all. The fact that he never states that Evans key innovationwas to introduce the interval of the second (major and minor) into the jazzharmonic repertory-devising a new system of voicing with a unique sound-isa major omission. He refers to this throughout as the "scrunch"sound. The "scrunch" is a minor second, folks.
To really tellthe story of Bill Evans, you need to understand the influence of drugs onthe artist's work; but here Pettinger has no clue. For instance, one can"hear" the heroin affecting his sound in the classic Sundayafternoon recordings: soft touch, liquid sound, fluid legato approach, evenup tempo numbers have a delicate swing. Toward the end of his life, we"hear" cocaine-hard driving, more rhythmic, more aggressive. Forsomeone like Evans, who it seems hardly ate at all, drugs had an importantphysical impact on his life, and certainly affected the direction of hisart. But this is a blind spot for the classically oriented Pettinger.
Healso seems unable to distinguish between truly important and pedestrianperformances; he's a bit too star struck for my taste. He also totallymisreads the Gary Peacock trio (Trio `64) which, while very different fromhis others, is his best after the classic trio with Scott LaFaro. I canattest to this from two tables away from the piano at the Village Vanguardback in 1964. Peacock, with his prodigious imagination, technique andsound, was giving Evans exactly the creative impetus he needed as Evansreeled from depression after Scott LaFaro's tragic death. Peacock, had henot gone for a "diet and meditation trip" could have pushed thepianist into a new creative mode. But that was not to be, and Evans settledinto comfortable repertory. Pettinger doesn't grasp thesignificance.
Other works that don't get their due: The Bill Evans andSymphony Orchestra album, easily the best I've ever heard of the genre. Butit's great not because Ogerman and Evans "do" the classics;rather it's great because they capture the feeling of these classics,something that serious musicians seldom do. And Evans is improvising on thechanges, the way the great masters once did, in a truly inspired fashion.In this book, it's just another album. Similarly, the Symbiosis album isglossed over. Another Ogerman work, this time covering challengingmodernistic terrain while still maintaining a high level of feeling,balancing Appolonian and Dionysian extremes brilliantly. The extended reedstatement in the second movement, with complex, long lines that flirt inand out of tonality; the following improvisation using the most complexseries of chords I've ever heard in a jazz piece, many with roots a minorsecond above or below the fundamental chord. It's breakthrough stuff, butonly gets a quick take from Pettinger.
We could have used some straighttalk about the trios. Evans almost lost it after LaFaro's death, and hisnext trio was an effort at survival. But you have to admit that ChuckIsraels left a lot to be desired in the early going, all the morenoticeable in contrast to LaFaro. On How My Heart Sings, he just doesn'tmake the changes. He grew considerably over the years, and got to be asolid compliment to Evans. But we do see after LaFaro and Peacock aconscious shift toward a more dependable type of music, and a moredependable bass player. Eddie Gomez, viewed against LaFaro or Peacock issimply dependable. Talented? Yes. But dependable¾not inspired.
So Evans,hobbled by drugs, chooses to work his craft, dependably, for the rest ofhis career. And indeed, he produces many great moments. But we can't helpbut wonder whether he spent the rest of his life mourning that first,wonderful trio. And who could blame him? But we wish he could have gottenover it, that he could have had the courage to take some risks. Perhaps hewould have found something that place again. We'll never know. But I'd liketo have known a bit more about what Evans' choice of partners, andrepertory meant.
I'm also not a great fan of books that attempt tocharacterize endless discography in layman's terms. After a while, we needto know more than the fact that a solo was "shimmering" or"beautiful". Trudging through the discography, however, we seeclumps of albums that Evans did just to support his habit, and the unevenresults become more clear, as does the sometimes endless repetition ofmaterial. He did find new ways to do all those tunes; but he did stretchhis repertory quite thin; and now we understand why.
For all hisproblems with drugs, we see relatively little of the first hand impact ofhis dependence. This is very unlike "Stan Getz: A Life in Jazz"which chronicles Getz' frequent personal and emotional problems. Theseproblems do illuminate the artist's approach to his craft, andunfortunately they are mostly missing here.
In the end, Bill Evans is theguiding light of modern jazz piano, whose legacy extends to practicallyeveryone who has played from 1960 on. But his output and life were quiteuneven; a more realistic appraisal would have been helpful withoutdetracting a bit from his legendary contributions.
But with itsshortcomings, the book is still an essential read for anyone interested inEvans, jazz piano, or modern jazz history. There ain't nothin' else on thesubject as of yet, but hopefully with this, there will eventually bemore.
Finally, books like this bring us to the influence of drugs onjazz-the music and musicians. We'd like to say now that jazz is free of thetyranny of drugs, but where does that leave us? We have a major star thatis a Harvard MBA, we have commercial success at Lincoln Center, but whereis the inspiration? Where is the innovation? Certainly an acceptableinterval has passed since Miles, Bill Evans and John Coltrane were on thescene, but the torch has not been passed. Jazz, if free from the tyranny ofdrugs, needs to move to the next level-innovation and inspiration withoutdrugs. Having mastered career and made inroads in the market, maybe now wecan step back and focus on the music again,. the way masters like BillEvans, Miles and Coltrane did. When we get there, we'll look back at thesefallen idols and thank them for their inspiration, and for the bitterlessons that they taught us.

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