Grandest piano: Two jazz giants

For the better part of five decades, Oscar Peterson has towered overmainstream pianists with his juggernaut style, built upon thedazzling cross-field runs of Art Tatum and clipped bop phrasing ofNat King Cole. Even slowed by a recent stroke, the 71-year-olddynamo has dared accompanists and audiences to keep up with him.Bill Evans, who died in 1980 of drug-related causes he was 51),channeled a more deeply reflective muse in advancing the bebopinventions of Bud Powell. He had a profound impact on those whofollowed him, not only with his radiant open harmonies and Utopianideal of an interactive trio, but also his determination to get atthe most personal truths in his playing.

For many jazz fans, Peterson (born on Aug. 15, 1925, inMontreal) and Evans (born on Aug. 16, 1929, in New Jersey) are thebe-all and end-all of modern piano trio practitioners - and, perhaps,the yin and yang. In Gene Lees' notes to Evans' "Complete FantasyRecordings," issued in 1989, Peterson is likened to Liszt for"conquering" the instrument and Evans to Chopin for "seducing" it.

But as different as they were, these prolific, mutually admiringartists were linked by a relentless pursuit of beauty and perfection.Three new CD collections of live performances, most of thempreviously unreleased, reveal that they also shared a love ofcommunica-tion - of playing for the people.Peterson has long said that his best albums are his live ones.He'll get no argument from anyone sampling the five-CD "London HouseSessions" (Verve), drawn from a long engagement at the defunctChicago club in the summer of 1961. The definitive set comprisesfour previously issued albums by "The Trio," including bassist RayBrown and drummer Ed Thigpen, and more than two hours of materialleft off them.No one will ever accuse Peterson of profundity. He frequentlysubstitutes flash for insight and adornment for lyrical depth. He isnot out to reveal himself as much as entertain with readilyaccessible effects. Listening to "The London House Sessions," youdon't get the sense of unfolding emotion or deepening intensity thatyou get from McCoy Tyner or Tommy Flanagan - to name two masters ofthe trio format who can be called profound.But when you're Oscar Peterson, and you can play with suchhairpin precision, awesome speed and perfect touch, those traitscreate their own heightened emotion. Hearing him dip into hismassive vocabulary on songs such as "Sometimes I'm Happy," which hecrowns with blues warmth while cutting ribbons of abandon, is to haveany quibbles swept off the carping-room floor.Peterson fans sometimes have difficulty choosing between hisprevious, drummerless trio with guitarist Herb Ellis and thisthreesome. Hearing him ride Thigpen's immaculate clean strokes tohigher rhythmic ground clinches the argument in favor of the lattergroup.In a recent interview (see accompanying article), Peterson saidhis producers decided which of the London House performances torelease, a statement that contradicted previously published reportsthat the pianist had the final say. In either case, some bets werehedged in leaving his sparkling bebop treatments such as CharlieParker's "Scrapple From the Apple" off the original albums in favorof more easily digested popular standards."The London House Sessions" is packaged in a coolly attractivebut problematic spiral-booklet format - the discs fit too snugly inthe pockets for easy extraction. But in immersing us in thesestate-of-Oscar performances - and offering us a vital piece ofChicago jazz club history to go with Miles Davis' "Complete Live atthe Plugged Nickel 1965" - it makes such an inconvenience a smallone.The market is so flooded with tracks by the incessantlystudio-driven Evans, including the 11-CD "Complete RiversideRecordings" and nine-CD "Complete Fantasy Recordings," some listenersmay be put off by the prospect of diving into two more box sets: thesix-CD "Turn Out the Stars: The Final Village Vanguard Recordings,June 1980" (Warner Bros.) and the eight-CD "The Secret Sessions"(Milestone/Fantasy), recorded at the Vanguard between 1966 and 1975.And that won't be all, folks: Verve's long-in-the-releasing18-CD opus is due out next year. That adds up to a lot of disc froma musician who infrequently departed the trio setting or altered hisapproach except to deepen it.Only the most diehard Evans fans really need "The SecretSessions," recorded by a fanatic named Mike Harris, who snuck a taperecorder into New York's treasured Vanguard on 26 occasions tocapture his hero. Unlike obsessive Parker chronicler Dean Benedetti,who recorded only the immortal saxophonist's solos on the tapes thatbecame Mosaic Records' 1990 compendium, "The Complete BenedettiCharlie Parker," Harris kept his machine running for entireperformances by various Evans trios.While the sound of "The Secret Sessions" is better than youwould expect, its canned, muffled quality is still something to getpast. And though there are some choice moments - the great bopdrummer Philly Joe Jones powers Evans to some of his hardest-edgedplaying, and you can hear longtime Evans bassist Eddie Gomez settlinginto his mastery - they are generously answered by ones that find thepianist in a sorting-out phase.Evans and many of his followers were still measuring his workagainst that of his legendary 1959-61 trio with young bass virtuosoScott La Faro (whose death in a car crash devastated Evans) anddrummer Paul Motian. It proved an impossible standard to meet - oravoid."Turn Out the Stars," on the other hand, finds Evans on firm,long-term footing with bassist Marc Johnson and drummer JoeLaBarbera. He was writing new songs, reinventing old ones andotherwise pushing the group into new directions. These performances,taken from multiple sets over four nights, amount to a valuable finalstatement by an artist whose life light would be extinguished threemonths later.A barometer of his rejuvenation - and his trio's - can be foundin three expansive versions of "Nardis," a composition credited toMiles Davis. Evans had been playing the song for years ("SecretSessions" includes a rough and tumble 1967 reading with Gomez andJones) and had previously recorded it - unlike Davis, to whoselegendary album, "Kind of Blue," Evans made a crucial contribution.Here, "Nardis" takes the shape of a dark, exploratory epic thatdraws as much from modern classical concepts as modal and otherpost-bop innovations. Up and down the scales Evans goes on oneversion, creating thick storm clouds with his left hand whilesearching for an opening in them with his lyrically beaming right.When he finds that opening, the song explodes into melody, propelledso fiercely that it should give pause to those who underrate Evans'capacity to swing, and swing hard.(Inexplicably, the single-disc sampler of "Turn Out the Stars,"dubbed "The Artist's Choice" because it approximates the double albumthat Evans had in mind but was never released, edits a 16-minuteversion of "Nardis" down to a six-minute excerpt. There's room onthe CD for the entire piece, so why the abridgement? That wouldhardly have been Evans' choice.)Even when he played pretty, as on the infectious, richlymelodic "Bill's Hit Tune" and Johnny Mandel's wistfully beautiful"Theme From MASH," Evans never allowed his notes the luxury ofrelaxation. Digging into the unrooted chords he patented, he openedboth them and his emotions to new possibility.Are "The Final Village Vanguard Recordings" the equal of Evans'Vanguard albums with La Faro and Motian? Such was the shock ofsurprise that emanated from that trio, any subsequent group would befated to secondary consideration.But when he hooked up with Johnson and LaBarbera, Evans had adeeper reservoir of pained experience and wisdom to draw on, and thatcertainly comes through. For all the records he made, you never geta sense that he had said all he had to say. If ever a musician wasdriven to explore himself in the name of art, relentlessly, it wasthis one. One can only regret not being able to hear him go down thepaths on which he was headed."London House Sessions": (STAR)(STAR)(STAR) 1/2; "Turn Out theStars: The Final Village Vanguard Recordings, June 1980":(STAR)(STAR)(STAR)(STAR); "The Secret Sessions," (STAR)(STAR)(STAR).In Tuesday's Jazz Etc. column, Lloyd Sachs discusses another boxset, the complete Dexter Gordon on Blue Note.