Bill Evans: How My Heart Sings

I've enjoyed Pettinger's unpretentious study of Evans' life and music as much as any comparable jazz title that comes to mind. The British author admits that he never met Bill Evans and has little to offer in the way of exclusive, privileged information about a subject whose personal habits might tempt lesser writers to manufacture salacious prose along with much amateur psychoanalyzing. Having lowered the expectations, Pettinger proceeds to give a personal biography of the man and chronological account of the musical career that is ultimately a remarkably illuminating portrait of a jazz artist.Admittedly, the book is essential reading primarily for the listener who already counts himself among Evans' admirers and is aware of the pianist's artistry and influence. More than likely, such a reader will find many of his suspicions validated--from the pianist's rigorous classical training to his self-effacing personality to his discomfort as a member of Miles Davis' Quintet to his creative rejuvenation during the last year and months of his life. In addition, he will undoubtedly discover, on practically every page, something unexpected--Evans' affinity for Russian language and culture (clearly demonstrated on the pianist's brooding, darkly dramatic, extended introductions to "Nardis"), his curious attraction to garish '70's clothing styles, his strange personal and musical relationship with "speed" buddy Philly Joe Jones.Pettinger knows enough about music, pianos, and piano playing to insure that his discussion of the music is accessible and instructive without becoming erudite or pedantic. Although it would be, in my opinion, impossible to overstate the influence, sophistication, and singular beauty of Evans' music, Pettinger wisely does not try to do so. The definitive work on the extraordinary moment in music history for which Evans is responsible remains to be written. But Pettinger's book is certainly a worthy start. And the plentiful discography is clearly presented and annotated--in itself worth the price of the book to any collector of Evans' extraordinary recorded legacy.

Pettinger, who is a classical concert pianist and teaches at Cambridge, has written a detailed and sympathetic biography of the great jazz pianist Bill Evans (1929-80), who combined in one person a consummate musical talent, a usually sunny spirituality and all the low cravings and repeated disappointments of the confirmed junkie. By now, the story is generally known: inducted into the Miles Davis quintet/sextet and playing a major role in the famed Kind of Blue session, Evans moved from lesser drugs to heroin and in no time was hooked for the rest of his short life (fifty-one years). Reluctant at first to record on his own –he wasn’t sure he had that much to say—he broke through to jazz audiences with a live album at the Village Vanguard, featuring along with Evans, bassist Scott LaFaro and drummer Paul Motian. The music they played didn’t appear all that revolutionary but it was, featuring a level of melodic and rhythmic interplay among the three musicians that was unparalleled in jazz then or now. While Evans’s playing might appear at times little more than cocktail music, it was informed by his deep understanding of harmonics. No other pianist I know of spent as much time on the voicings of his music –the more time you spend listening to what Evans played on a good day (he had bad days too, sometimes on record), the more you got out of it. Pettinger’s book is more about the music than anything else. His background as a performing artist helps him in communicating what is unique and permanent about Evans’s music. Pettinger discusses the vicissitudes of Evans’s often rocky personal life but does not obsess over it. I susoect that anyone who reads this book will appreciate Evans’ exceptional music even more.

I am familiar with a great deal of Bill Evans' music and because of its very intimate & personal nature, thought I knew Bill, too.Well, I only knew part of the story. Bill - like most of us - was a very complex being and his life was full of many ups & downs. Drugs, poverty, suicides . . . these were familiar themes to Bill who, despite the struggles and the sadness, managed to create some of the most sublimely beautiful music any human has ever laid to tape.This book captures and delivers Bill's life & music in intimate detail, many of which are downright befuddling: Bill, on the surface the consummate urbanite, attended college in Louisiana (of all places), and actually enjoyed the slower pace of Southern life. While in school, Bill was the quarterback of the football team(!) and after his death, was returned to Louisiana for burial next to his beloved brother Harry. Crazy stuff for a music-loving kid from New Jersey . . .Bill's music and the people he encountered and worked with are detailed as well, including the relationship he shared with Miles Davis. Though they remained lifelong friends and influenced each other immensely, Bill apparently left the Kind of Blue-era sextet as a result of "reverse racism", whereby Bill took the heat for being the only white guy in the group. The book reveals that most of the "heat" came from Miles himself . . .I have a special interest in Bill Evans and his music and therefore found his life story an interesting read; if you share this interest, then this is the book for you.

Some reviews of Peter Pettinger's elegant, compelling biography of Bill Evans are critical on the grounds it spends too much time on the music, with some going so far as to say it's essentially just a list of gigs and recording sessions. I say thee nay: as Pettinger makes abundantly clear, gigging and recording pretty much was Evans' life, so it has to focus on these elements. And as a musical biographer, Pettinger (a pianist himself, albeit in the classical rather than the jazz field) is superb. He gives excellent, precise insights into what Evans was actually doing at the keyboard, and thus why his music was so distinctive and so affecting, rather than relying on vague adjectives and impressionistic waffle. That he achieves this without ever becoming overly technical is some achievement. Pettinger is also good on explaining why some sessions or gigs don't quite work, how the differing styles of different bassists changed the focus of Evans' trios, and, above all, why the First Trio's recordings were so significant, and how their relatively quiet, introspective music changed the course of jazz history, on all instruments, far more than most of the louder, more turbulent sounds of the same vintage. I've pretty much always known that was the case, but now I have a deeper understandinfg of why.No, this book doesn't focus too much on the music. If anything, I could have done with more of it. Where it falls down is giving us less than we'd like on Evans the man. Evans was, of course, a long-term drug addict, but it appears he was a quiet, stay-at-home junkie (well, what else would you expect from Bill Evans?) who caused fewer problems for his friends and family than is typical for addicts in the jazz world. Consequently, a stronger focus on his personal life wouldn't be a lurid chronicle of disaster after disaster like Art Pepper's "Straight Life" or James Gavin's Chet Baker biography "Deep In A Dream", which made Pepper's account of armed robbery and other outrages seem like an episode of "Bagpuss". However, Bruce Spiegel's excellent 2015 documentary "Time Remembered", by use of revealing interviews with Evans' friends, family and colleagues, gives an extraordinarily affecting and penetrating idea of what Bill Evans was actually like, and what these relationships meant to him. In particular, Spiegel lets us understand more about why the suicides of Evans' long-term partner Ellaine Schultz in 1973 and his beloved brother Harry in 1977 were even more traumatic for Evans than they would be for any of us, and how his own "longest suicide in history" was precipitated by these events. Pettinger touches on these matters, but they never feel as vivid and real as his writing about the music. Perhaps the most damning criticism is that he never even mentions Ellaine Schultz's surname. That said, the closing chapters, as Evans strives to continue create great music whilst apparently being bent on self-destruction, are very moving.Of course, in the long term, the music is what matters, and Pettinger is unlikely to ever be rivalled in his ability to explain the mysteries and the implications of Evans' music. Like all great music writing, it will have you re-exploring music you think you've known for decades and investigating work you've hitherto overlooked. As a musical biography, it's hard to see how it could be better. As a biography in the round, it falls a little short. If you love Evans music, you need to read it anyhow, but to understand the man, you'd be advised to watch Spigel's film, which happily is available for free on a streaming service hosted by the very business whose page you are currently visiting.

I've read this one back to back over four days; I'd say it was gripping, which is quite some feat for a biography and musical analysis. I have read Laurie Verchomin's book which covers Evan's later years in detail from a personal perspective, but Pettinger puts in context how productive, professional, and committed Evans was to his art and to his listeners right until the very end. It is curious how Verchomin only recieves two mentions; this illustrates Pettinger's focus on the music not the personal.With online streaming services there is no reason not to have heard pretty much everything Bill recorded, and with YouTube, we can watch virtually everything he did on TV. This book has sent me back to dig out clips from European TV and the amazing Jazz 625 BBC broadcast which does slow down progress through the book, but adds immensely to it's enjoyment.It's clear Mr Pettinger has a great collection of live tapes which I would love to hear. We are fortunate that many live recordings have been released since Evans' death in 1980, but it's clear from this reading that many more exist. A tantalising quest which will no doubt keep me busy for a good while yet...

It has taken me a while to read and digest this enthralling book about Bill Evans as I constantly cross-referenced Pettinger's forensic examination of the recorded works of Evans, my favourite jazz pianist of all time, with my own comprehensive collection of his music - on CD, on vinyl and some by download. This approach has made the reading of this classic biography all the more enjoyable and I know I will be revisiting the text on a regular basis.Peter Pettinger was a keen pianist. His classical training took place at the Royal Academy of Music, where he studied with pianist Vivian Langrish and composer Hugh Wood. He was also intrigued by jazz music, in particular that of Dave Brubeck and of course, Bill Evans. The book is laid out in chronological order as Pettinger discusses the making of every important Evan's recording and the discography lists 168 of these.Evans was vexed by heroin addiction for much of his career (as were so many jazz musicians of his era) and suffered with chronic, low-grade hepatitis. Evans's life could be summed up by both personal tragedies and commercial successes. His technique stood head and shoulders above any other jazz pianist of his time. His compositional methods and approach to ensemble playing have become his legacy.As I read How My Heart Sings I found myself listening to Sunday At The Village Vanguard recorded 25th June 1961, with Scott LaFaro on bass and Paul Motian on drums, considered by many to be his best triumvirate. LaFaro was just 25 years old, a bassist of unbelievable talent. Ten days after this set was recorded LaFaro was driving back late to his parents' home in upstate New York when he veered off into a tree and was killed outright. Evans had embraced LaFaro as a kind of alter ego. The bass player's death killed something in the pianist himself. Evans and Motian were both devastated at the news. Evans did not play for many months after this, not even at home. I cannot listen to this album without getting rather choked up.... Just one of the tragedies that befell this giant of jazz composition and unique style of playing.If you enjoy jazz, especially jazz piano, you should get yourself a copy of this wonderful, critical commentary on the life of Bill Evans, who died on Monday September 15th 1980, aged just 51. He lies at rest in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. There is not a week goes by that I do not listen to something played by this jazz legend....

This book has taken me a long time to read. Not because it’s a difficult read, far from it, it’s fascinating and the author clearly loves Bill Evans’s work and has researched his subject thoroughly. The reason it took so long for me to finish is because I kept putting the book down to listen to the albums that the author was referring to.Warning: this book will lead to you listening to lots of Bill Evans and possibly spending more money !

There have been two excellent books about Bill Evans in recent years. Keith Shadwick's "Everything Happens To Me" (2002) focusses strongly on Bill's music, and writes at greater length about technical detail. By contrast, Peter Pettinger's book here provides a more rounded picture of the man as well as his music. Bill Evans produced some of the most satisfying music in the whole of jazz - not just in the trio setting with which he is most associated, but in a range of other circumstances too (especially in his earlier years when he recorded with many other important leaders and in a variety of contexts). But his story is of so much more than simply his musical expertise. He was a fascinating character - a complex mixture. And the rich tapestry of his life - the triumphs and the personal tragedies; and the other fascinating characters along the way - is skilfully woven by Mr Pettinger. Both books can be recommended without hesitation, but Mr Pettinger provides greater insight into the man himself.