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 including 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 and lots of other people. I put myself in this position where I could play with those 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; it's not 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 my records. I wanted to allow space for the ‘Manfred 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 of tunes and then picking the best one.

I knew it was going to be different, so I tried to honour that difference. I think the record has a certain mood and, almost like a suite, it kind of builds on itself. I've made plenty of records where there’s a lot of swinging stuff and arrangements and whatnot, and I just didn't feel the need to do that right now. I’ll be making a trio record next month, so my writing and playing is focused on that. Even at my solo concerts, I’m trying to add some new tunes and integrate some new originals, getting things under my hands that I think I'm going to record in May.

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

Assuming that 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 and I get down in the bottom a lot more. But, I got into this music to play with people and in front of people, and when we record the trio album, we're going to do it on the stage without headphones. I pretty much vowed that I don't want to make records with headphones anymore, they're either going to be live or in a space.

I just don't play my best anymore with headphones. I get very self-conscious now. I can never get the balance right; I kind of self-edit. I feel like I'm just kind of squeaking by, but when it's in a space or 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. I think the next album is going to be with Drew Gress and Joey Baron. Joey's one of those drummers who can play quietly, but with lots of intensity. Even if he did nothing but play brushes on the record, it would still have that intensity.

A lot of the music that 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 too, I hope. I also love that I have so many great duo relationships. When I’m playing with a musician who's deeply listening and is able to be affected by what I'm bringing to the table, then that's really joyful too.

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 that I enjoy playing duo with. There are only a handful of vocalists that I will play with at this point in a duo, you know, with a Norma Winstone or a Nancy King or somebody like that, Jo Lawry or somebody who's really that good.

Those are the people that I would jump in a duo with in terms of vocalists. I've played with a lot of vocalists and 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 at playing for vocalists that's different from playing with a horn player. All the experiences that 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, Wigmore Hall versus some little club somewhere. It makes me appreciative that I'm getting to play in those kinds of situations pretty much all the time.

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 that. She's really unique in the way that she tells stories that are completely spontaneous and improvises in a way that's not scat singing at all but is kind of crazy, flexible and intuitive. She's very inspiring to play with, and I think I inspire her in ways that nobody else does. I think 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. I mean, really, really, really different. The way she does stuff is unpredictable and there's no other singer like her. I think also putting her in the context of just as stripped down as possible, piano and voice, people hadn’t heard her do that before. Most of her records are big productions, and I think she stakes her place as one of the great jazz singers on that record.

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 and it was just magic. Then Manfred said we should make records together. I held him to it, the same piano, the same auditorium – I don't want to do anything else. The sessions were great. I mean, really great. He's one of the greatest producers of music ever – there's no coincidence how many masterpiece albums are on ECM, and I think it's the Manfred factor and his vision. I didn't feel any commercial constraints on this record, either. They're 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 and not compromising, and that felt really good, too.

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, the music was on the floor and 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!

Was there 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’ or ‘Star-Crossed Lovers’ or ‘The Wind’, I didn't plan those at all – they just sort of surfaced. Backstage, I'll read a book, I'll play a game until the very last minute I go on, hopefully as quickly as possible and not stand there getting cold or nervous. But the main thing is, if I'm connected with the piano and connected with the sound, then everything takes care of itself. If the piano or the sound 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. You really want to be in that space of playing one phrase and then playing the next phrase. 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.

I think jazz is kind of reactive in the moment; that's what it should be. It shouldn't be people regurgitating things that they've practised, shredding or whatever. I mean, that just turns me off. I find it totally uninteresting. I don’t want 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! I think 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 and not controlling it. Feeling the support from Manfred to do that was really key to all this.

In the hands of a less experienced player, it sounds like a strategy that might risk causing things to fall apart. How do you avoid that from happening?

Some of it, like the spontaneous compositions on the record, are obviously 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 – whether it means changing register, density, attack or pedalling. I think the ear wants something authentic. That's what we want to hear when we listen to music; 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, they should be fun to play. They shouldn’t be gigantic, crazy rhythms and basslines. There's some people who do that and I love it, but most of them I don't like. 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.

And, if your original music isn't at the same high level as the canon or that memorable, then for me, it's not that useful. So, sometimes I just go by the feel under my hands. I'm not thinking pitches, I'm thinking shape, space and intervals. I'm somebody that really cares about tone and colour. A lot of pianists think less about that but, to me, it's really important. I grew up listening to Rubinstein, Josef Hoffman, Glenn Gould and Richter. The way that they use the piano and the tonal colours that they get 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 consider where you infer the sound of a big band or a string ensemble from previous recordings of older tunes, or do you approach these standards completely as blank slates?

The piano is a big band and an orchestra, it can be 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. So, there should be a lot of moving parts. If your line is your ride symbol, basically, then the rest of the drum kit should be there. You've got to pay attention to what's going on underneath and have moving parts that make 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 a little crazier, but it wasn't something that I got out of a book or somebody said to try. It just interested me because of my background as a child with string quartets, Bach and everything else. Now, it's become part of my style and something 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 in the right spots and has to be allowed to happen – it's pretty much with me.