New York City, Day 1 & 2: Fred Hersch Trio @ Village Vanguard

The Village Vanguard immediately fulfilled some of my expectations the moment I went through that red door. It was crowded with people — a few college students, but mostly those beyond twice my age — nearly all the way to the back of the room by the time I arrived. It was frozen in time, the exact image I’d remembered from the pictures I’d seen of it from ages before now, except for a few new coats of paint and a shiny new Steinway — exactly the way I’d imagined it.

There was one thing, however, that was distinctly different from my romantic image of the Village Vanguard. As I may have mentioned before, one of my favorite albums was recorded here (Sunday at the Village Vanguard/Bill Evans Trio) back in 1961 — and one of my favorite aspects of this albums is its vivacity. Vivacity, not only in regards to the musical interaction between Evans, LaFaro, and Motian, but also in the subtle sounds of clinking glasses and chatter and laughter from that audience, undisturbed by editing, is what gives that album a genuinely raw feeling to me. It’s as if tonight those hints of conversation and laughter were replaced by complete silence, only broken by the occasional rumbling from the nearby subway and perhaps the scribbling of my pen against my notebook.

My question is, what is it that changed here? Is it the audience that’s reluctant to make any audible signals of appreciation? It’s absolutely not in the lack of appreciation, I’m sure. Are there new policies at the Village Vanguard? Is the recording equipment too sensitive for any extraneous noise? What do you think?

But without further ado, on to the set list, as well as some notes I took during the show:

Fred Hersch (p), John Hébert (b), Billy Hart (d)

1. From This Moment On

2. Still Here (a dedication to Wayne Shorter, whom Hersch declared his “hero and huge influence”)

3. Skipping (I’m still frustrated that I can’t figure out the shifting time signatures of this tune — anyone know? Otherwise, it sounded very Brubeck to me)

4. Whirl (inspired by a ballerina; a circular, spinning tune with minor sixths layered over triplets in the initial melody; reminds me of that Chopin tune that I desperately need to practice)

5. The Wind (Russ Freeman)/Moon and Sand (Alec Wilder) Medley

6. Played Twice (because Hersch declares that it’s a tradition to play a Monk tune at every set in the Village Vanguard; It was pretty interesting hearing this bebop tune played in a floaty Hersch style.)

7. I’ll Be Seeing You (I loved hearing John Hebert on arco; the way the piece was played reminded me of the recording of Granados on the Bill Evans Compact Jazz album)

8. Change Partners (Hersch started out with random-sounding single pitches that reminded me of a coding exercise I did in a surprisingly challenging CalArts computer music class, later contrasted by some lovely block chords. This piece was my favorite of the night — mostly because of the striking contrasts that Hersch set forward: random chaos/structure, dissonance/comfortable harmonies, random notes/repetition, block chords/melodic lines. A great end to a diverse and thought-provoking set. Not to mention that I was bouncing in my seat the entire show.)

(top: Fred Hersch; bottom: Billy Hart)

The moment Hersch began playing his first tune, I thought back to one of my old piano lessons at the Phillips Academy in Andover, Massachusetts with John Adams when I was about fourteen years old. I remember we were working on an extremely sensitive part of a Edward MacDowell piece — Mr. Adams and I had gotten to the point where we were both frustrated that I couldn’t soften my touch a slight bit more. “Play it soft,” he kept repeating, “like a memory.”

And that’s exactly how Hersch played — like a memory. Even with his consistently active left hand and his tiny upper-register melodies, Hersch’s playing always sounded like some nostalgic echo of something already once played.

That night I sat there in the Village Vanguard in a room filled with memories from a time ages ago — and even though in reality I didn’t exist then, I think I felt a bit of that nostalgia as well.

CURRENTLY LISTENING TO: Still Here/Fred Hersch Trio/Whirl