Review | Home of the Giants, in Tribute

There is a phrase that floats around the world of jazz, like a recurring riff or motto, referring to the practice of “standing in the shadow of giants.” A variant of that idea is to think back nostalgically at “a time when giants roamed the Earth.” Said giants are, of course, the acknowledged trailblazing and generally visionary legends in the music, whose lasting influence filters through successive generations of jazz players. 

Said giants have been roaming through the small but mighty jazz haven in town, The Grand on State, both generally — in terms of musical language — and specifically, in terms of dedicated tributes to the elite population of jazz giants. Within the last few months, The Grand has played host to tribute making to centenarians Miles Davis and John Coltrane, by Ernie Watts and Terell Stafford; a Carmen McRae genuflection by vocalist Janice Mann; and, two weeks back, a heartfelt and thoughtful portrait of Bill Evans, from the elegantly dazzling pianist Tamir Hendelman. 

The Grand show, Hendelman’s first appearance here after impressing as accompanist for vocalist Roberta Gambarini in June, showcased a pianist with broadly versed and deeply entrenched musicality on his side, and with a style congruent with Evans’s zone of influence. He also has shown a keen touch and sensitivity to the art of the accompanist, with longtime boss Gambarini and more recently with the wonderful singer Tierney Sutton (who, incidentally, would be a perfect candidate for this space).

But this night was about giving the piano player some spotlight, in the time-honored trio mode which Evans, in fact, helped to cement as a durable and classic musical unit. It has something to do with the power of three — triangles being structurally stronger than squares and all. To put it mildly, there were no slouches on this stage. A palpably empathetic bond tethered Hendelman’s trio mates, bassist Mike Gurrola and drummer Dan Schnelle (who delivered some subtly inventive solos).

Aptly enough, the evening opened with a track from the essentially career-launching 1958 album Everybody Digs Bill Evans, Gigi Gryce’s swinging “Minority.” Everybody, indeed. Or everybody who’s anybody.

Overall, Hendelman’s tribute program was a wisely planned one, mixing up the well-known turf of “All Blues” and Freddie the Freeloader” — from Evans’s fateful solo album rendezvous with Miles Davis, on the Kind of Blue (but no “Blue in Green”) — Sonny Rollins’s “Oleo” and “Days of Wine and Roses,” to lesser-known but tasty numbers with an Evans connection. 

Although he called up “Waltz for Debbie,” the best-known of Evans’s gifted collection of original waltzes, the first set featured the savory and rarely heard waltz “Tiffany.” We learned, in one of Hendelman’s many informative historical asides, that the waltz was written for his drummer Joe LaBarbara’s daughter. Later in the show, the trio laid out another surprise, the punningly titled “Peri’s Scope,” a cheerful ditty penned for an early girlfriend of Evans.

Kicking off the second set, the trio launched into the evergreen classic “Blues and the Abstract Truth,” the title track from Oliver Nelson’s landmark 1961 album, which Evans graced with his fluid eloquence. From only slightly off the jazz radar, he dove into Evans’s arrangement of the M*A*S*H theme song (with the line/hook “suicide is painless”), also a nod to the songwriting of Johnny Mandel.

Closing out the night on ultra-familiar standard turf, Hendelman led his comrades through a version of “Autumn Leaves,” but with a difference: he opened with the rarely-played “verse” before settling into the old cozy ABBA structure jazz fans and players know and love. 

It was that kind of night and that kind of a tribute to a giant, mixing up confirmations of the power of tradition with little surprises and taste treats from left-of-center. As a good jazz show should.