Sunday at the Village Vanguard is the initial volume of a mammoth recording session by the
Bill Evans Trio, from June 25, 1961 at New York's Village Vanguard documenting
Evans' first trio with bassist
Scott LaFaro and drummer
Paul Motian. Its companion volume is
Waltz for Debby. This trio is still widely regarded as his finest, largely because of the symbiotic interplay between its members. Tragically,
LaFaro was killed in an automobile accident ten days after this session was recorded, and
Evans assembled the two packages a few months afterward. While "Waltz for Debby" -- in retrospect -- is seemingly a showcase for
Evans' brilliant, subtle, and wide-ranging pianism, this volume becomes an homage, largely, to the genius and contribution of
LaFaro. That said, however, this were never the point. According to
Motian, when
Evans built this trio based on live gigs at the Basin Street East, the intention was always to develop a complete interactive trio experience. At the time, this was an unheard of notion, since piano trios were largely designed to showcase the prowess of the front line soloist with rhythmic accompaniment. Here, one need listen no further than the elegant and haunting, graceful modal reading of "My Man's Gone Now" from Porgy & Bess to know that there is something completely balanced and indescribably beautiful in their approach.
Motian's brushes whisper along the ride cymbals and both
Evans and
LaFaro enter into a dialogue that emerges from a darkly hued minor mode, into the melody and somehow beyond it, into a form of seamless dialogic improvisation to know that in the act of one musician slipping over and under another -- as happens with all three in an aural basket weave -- is something utterly new and different, often imitated but never replicated. But in a sense it happens before this, on
LaFaro's "Gloria's Step," which opens the recording. His thematic statement includes the briefest intro, hesitant and spacious before he and pianist enter into a harmonic and contrapuntal conversation underscored by the hushed dynamics of
Motian's snare, and the lightning-fast interlocutions of single string and chorded playing of
LaFaro. The shapshifting reading of
Miles Davis' "Solar," is a place where angularity, counterpoint, and early modalism all come together in a knotty and insistent, yet utterly seamless blend of post-bop aesthetics and expanded harmonic intercourse with
Motian, whose work, while indispensable in the balance of the trio, comes more into play here, and is more assertive with his half-time accents to frame the counterpoint playing of
Evans and
LaFaro. This is a great place to begin with
Evans. [Riverside/OJC issued a ten-track CD edition in 1992.] ~ Thom Jurek