Bill Evans & The Vansband All Stars

Another Bill Evans compilation from the Verve label. How many stars you think it deserves depends how much you want this selection rather than the albums (all available at the time of writing) from which they come. The tracks are from sessions recorded between 1962 and 1968. If this seems a limited scope, in fact one of the potential attractions of the disc is the variety of the material, representing Evans in solo, duo, trio and overdubbed settings as well as with orchestral accompaniment. Another potential attraction is the range of musicians, including an intriguing line-up of bassists and drummers and, on one track, guitarist Jim Hall.

Quiet Now is an album by jazz pianist Bill Evans, recorded in 1969. It was released in 1981 on the Affinity label.
An aptly titled album from the Bill Evans Trio, Quiet Now is the jazz pianist at his most ambient and cerebral. Accompanied only by the minimalist rhythm section of bassist Eddie Gomez and drummer Marty Morell, Evans effortlessly deconstructs two pop standards, Harold Arlen's "Sleeping Bee" and his beloved "Autumn Leaves," a Johnny Mercer tune that he played seemingly hundreds of times, along with three of his own compositions and Miles Davis' "Nardis," a song Evans made his own through endless reintepretation over the course of many years. Morrel is a steady, unobtrusive drummer with a light touch and, happily, not much of a tendency to show off and even less to solo…

With this subtly provocative solo recital, Ted Rosenthal merges three very different streams of piano history, putting his personal stamp on all of them. He pays homage to Bill Evans with "I Loves You Porgy," "Turn out the Stars," and "Waltz for Debby," playing the last in 5/4 but reverting to 4/4 only on his second solo chorus. The Bud Powell portion is more extensive, consisting of "Tempus Fugit," "Wail," "I'll Keep Loving You," "Celia," "Parisian Thoroughfare," and, in another 5/4 interpretation, the closing "Tea for Two." Last but not least, Rosenthal unveils his improvisational approach to Beethoven with the latter two movements of the "Pathetique" sonata, as well as the third movement of "Opus 109," which inspires a full nine minutes of spirited invention. In Rosenthal's hands all this music sounds as though it sprang from the same muse, and that's the sign of a skilled, imaginative artist.