Interview, Fred Hersch on 'Silent, Listening'

With a title that "speaks to patience and spontaneity," the latest solo release from Fred Hersch is a project very close to his own heart. Recorded in Lugano in May 2023, Silent, Listening is a subtle reclamation of the gifted pianist's intricate sensitivities and skill. Produced by Manfred Eicher, the album blends several Hersch originals with standards like Ellington's 'Star-Crossed Lovers' and the timeless 'Softly, As In A Morning Sunrise'. Explaining the meaning behind the title of his own compositon 'Akrasia', Fred describes it as the lack of self-control in acting against one's better nature. By way of suggesting a few of his own vices, he lists a second slice of chocolate cake, or binge-watching episodes of the hit reality TV program, RuPaul's Drag Race!

I began our conversation by asking Fred if he recognised some of the competitiveness from his favourite show in himself…

FH: Sure. Well, I’ve lived in lower Manhattan for 47 years, and I go out and hear a lot of music. I can't keep up with the kids on some levels, but they can't keep up with me on others! I used to be more competitive when I was younger. I was a little pushy, because I came to New York and had a dream of playing with Joe Henderson… and, lo and behold, I played with Joe Henderson! I put myself in this position where I could play with those kinds of people and feel like I was putting myself up with the best in the world, so there was a little bit of competitiveness with those gigs.

Now, I feel pretty comfortable where I am in whatever you want to call the 'jazz-piano-firmament'. This record is not a ‘chopsy’ kind of record [or] blazing technique. It shows a lot more patience, sensitivity, touch and sound – particularly the sound of that incredible auditorium in Lugano. But, I probably wouldn't have made a record like this if I was producing one myself, which I've done with almost all of them. I wanted to allow space for the ‘Manfred [Eicher] factor’ – not being over-prepared, but doing more spontaneous composition and letting him into the process. Not just coming in with a playlist, doing multiple takes and then picking the best one... I knew it was going to be different, so I tried to honour that. The record has a certain mood and, almost like a suite, it builds on itself. I've made plenty where there’s a lot of swinging stuff, arrangements and whatnot, and I just didn't feel the need to do that right now. 

Do you have a preference between performing solo in that way and with other musicians, or are they incomparable experiences?

Assuming I'm playing with the right musicians, they're both just as great. I use the piano a little differently when I'm playing solo, obviously... I have the whole range, I get down in the bottom a lot more. But, I got into this music to play with people and in front of people! When we record a trio album, we're going to do it onstage without headphones. I pretty much vowed that I don't want to record [that way] anymore... I just don't play my best. I get very self-conscious now, I can never get the balance right... I kind of 'self-edit'. When it's live, that's like the best studio in the world, because you're just letting it all go! That's why I've done so many records at the Village Vanguard. You have that magic sound of that club, which is very specific – dry, but in a really great way. A lot of the music you find on ECM is on the slower side, more contemplative, perhaps… I'm bringing some of that on the new album, but there are going to be some other surprises!

Much of your recent career has been spent performing and recording with vocalists. Are there any exceptional partners you like working with?

I have a select group of people I enjoy playing duo with. There are only a handful of vocalists that I'll play with at this point... Norma Winstone, Nancy King, Jo Lawry... somebody who's really that good. Those are the people I would jump in a duo with, in terms of vocalists. I've learned a lot from them: Words, melodies, phrasing, how they put sets together. There's a certain skill set you have to learn that's different from playing with a horn player. All the experiences I've had, even back playing weddings, parties and sh*tty gigs when I was younger... I mean, all that makes me appreciate more what I have now, when I'm playing in pretty elite situations [like] Wigmore Hall. When I play with a musician who's deeply listening and able to be affected by what I'm bringing to the table, that's really joyful, too.

My personal favourite has to be your collaboration with Esperanza Spalding, which was released last year to great acclaim. To what do you attribute the ecstatic reception this album received?

I don't think there's a piano vocal duo album like it. She's really unique in the way she tells stories that are completely spontaneous and improvises in a way that's not scat singing at all, but kind of crazy, flexible and intuitive! She's very inspiring to play with; I think I inspire her in ways that nobody else does... There's a lot of joy that we bring to the table with each other and, of course, audiences love it! It's a great show, and it's different every night. The way she does stuff is unpredictable – there's no other singer like her. Putting her in that context of just being as stripped down as possible, piano and voice, people hadn’t heard her do that before... I think she takes her place as one of the great jazz singers on that album.

Another recent career highlight must’ve been your first ECM appearance, which came with Enrico Rava’s The Song is You in 2022. I presume that’s what set the stage for this latest release?

That's how I met Manfred Eicher. It was a perfect way for us to work with each other for the first time. I didn't have any pressure on myself... I was there to play with Enrico and be supportive. He was 83 when we recorded it, and hadn't been playing for various health reasons. He didn't know if he could really do it, and then we got on the stage – it was just magic! Then, Manfred said we should make records together... I held him to it, the same piano, the same auditorium... I [didn't] want to do anything else. I didn't feel any commercial constraints, either. [ECM's] about making art, not some ‘tribute to blah, blah, blah…’ or ‘plays the music of…’ kind of shiny object. It's all about making the best music in the best conditions [without] compromising.

And so when you go to Lugano to record, what's the sort of headspace that you need to be in before you sit down to play, before the red light goes on?

I play my best when I'm not really thinking about it too much. I think the space of allowing (and not controlling) is where I want to be, like the track ‘Akrasia’. I started playing it, and the music was on the floor... I hadn't totally memorised it. I played the first bit of the tune and realised I couldn't remember the rest, but my then 67 year-old self didn't freak out. I just said, okay, this is an opportunity to do something different, so that's what it became. Of course, I couldn't really play the melody at the end because I hadn't memorised it, but I think it's one of the stronger tracks!

Did you have a similar blueprint for any of the other takes?

A lot of the tracks on the record, I didn't plan to play. ‘Softly As In A Morning Sunrise’, ‘Star-Crossed Lovers’ or ‘The Wind’ – they just sort of surfaced. Backstage, I'll read a book [or] play a game until the very last minute until I go on, hopefully as quickly as possible, not standing there getting cold or nervous. But the main thing is, if I'm connected with the piano or the sound, everything takes care of itself. If that isn't right, it's an uphill struggle. You start second guessing yourself: “Oh, maybe I shouldn't have played this tune now,” or “maybe I should-” and then the ‘shoulds’ get in the middle of it. It's like tennis: You’ve got to play the shot that you have, try to manoeuvre the other person around the court and think ahead a little bit as to how you're going to do that, but you’ve still got to react to what's coming across the net, which is often unexpected. So, it's totally reactive!

How do you think this relates towards other musicians?

I think jazz is kind of reactive in the moment – that's what it should be. It shouldn't be people regurgitating things [you've] practised, shredding or whatever. I mean, that just turns me off. To go to a gig and say, “Wow, that was impressive...” I don't want to do that, to hear people play what they know – I want to hear them play what they don't know! On this record, I played a lot of things that I didn't know until they happened. That's what makes me the happiest about it; I was in that place of not knowing or controlling it. Feeling the support from Manfred to do that was really key to all this.

In the hands of a less experienced player, that could sound like a recipe for disaster. How do you avoid things from falling apart?

Some of it is not knowing at all, not having a particular plan. I have an instinct for when something becomes not that interesting, and then you change it up, register, density, attack or pedalling. The ear wants something authentic; it doesn't matter what kind of music it is. There's a sense of authenticity that I find, especially when writing tunes… I'm kind of old fashioned about it: I think jazz tunes should be memorable, they should stick [and] be fun to play. They shouldn’t be gigantic, crazy rhythms and basslines! When I came to New York as a 21 year-old, the skill set required to be a working jazz pianist was to know tunes, swing and be able to comp. If you could sight read, that was helpful. That was it! Now, all the young musicians are pressured to be composers; the goal is to play their own music with their own band. For me, I don't find it less creative to play something from the canon. It doesn't matter who writes the theme – it's what you bring to it.

So, what is it that you bring to the music?

Sometimes, I just go by the feel under my hands. I'm not thinking pitches; I'm thinking shape, space and intervals. I'm someone who really cares about tonal colour. I grew up listening to Rubinstein, Hoffman, Gould and Richter. The way they used the piano made this lasting impression on me that comes out more and more, especially as I play solo. The idea of playing the whole piano, its colour and dynamics, that's an influence for me. Some pianists have other things that they care about, so it's all good. Apples and oranges, you know – not vibing anybody! It's just everybody's different. It's what you care about, and what speaks to you.

Is instrumentation something you infer from previous recordings, or do you approach these standards completely as blank slates?

The piano is a big band and orchestra, multiple parts moving at once. It can also be a big drum set if I'm playing something big and swinging, because it’s a member of that family. If your line is your ride cymbal, then the rest of the drum kit should also be there! You've got to pay attention to what's going on underneath that makes the thing come alive. Those are the things that interest me most, and my kind of contrapuntal playing, nobody told me to do that. I mean, I've been doing it since the beginning! Maybe it's gotten a little better and crazier, but it wasn't something I got out of a book. Now, it's become part of my style that I do a lot, but I never want to be precious about it. It has to be organic and in the moment. I don't want to sit down and just make it happen, it's got to be allowed – it's pretty much with me.