The following is jazz journalist Morgan Enos’s interview with pianist, composer, and arranger Bill O’Connell. His new album, Touch – to be released 17 January via Jojo Records – features bassist Santi Debriano and drummer Billy Hart. Links to purchase Touch, and to O’Connell’s website, can be found at the end of this article.
Despite the ubiquity of the trio format in jazz, Bill O’Connell hadn’t recorded an album on that front since his 1978 debut, Searching.
Despite his enduring love of the Bill Evans Trio and Chick Corea’s Now He Sings, Now He Sobs, O’Connell says he “doesn’t really think in terms of trios, as far as pianists and the way the rhythm section interacts.”
Yet that rhythm section philosophy has deeply informed the veteran pianist’s Touch – it just so happens that a trio record is a natural endpoint for O’Connell’s current musical thinking.
“This trio embodies listening, reacting, and letting things happen as they may,” O’Connell says. “Having the trust in the musicianship that we’re all going to make it work.”
Read on as he describes the road to Touch, semi-fresh off a pre-release show at Dizzy’s Club, Jazz at Lincoln Center, on 26 November.
UK Jazz News: What do you remember about the first time you played with Billy Hart, in the 1980s, with the late singer Janet Lawson?
Bill O’Connell: It was great then. But in our recent history – 2010, or something like that – I was playing in Italy. The guy who brought me over there said, “By the way, we want you to do a trio gig at this festival.” I said, “OK, great. Who am I playing with?”
He mentioned the bass player who was with me at the time, and then he said, “We’ve got Billy Hart on drums.” I mean, you can’t ask for more than that. So, we played, and it was great. I realised I wanted to try to make some space so that the two of us could really hook it up.
UKJN: And how would you describe the hookup between yourself, Santi [Debriano], and Billy?
BOC: Well, there is a lot of communication in that trio; a lot of like-mindedness, a lot of conversation. A lot of shared experiences that go into what we do together. Santi and I come from a place of a true love for modern jazz, and also Latin music.
Billy is just such a force on the drums. Not just a force of the body; a musical force. He listens so well, and has such a touch. When I do something, I feel like he’s right there with me. Plus, the fact is, his sense of swing is just so on the money. It’s an undeniable truth. So, I love playing with that.
UKJN: What’s your history recording at Van Gelder Studio?
BOC: I haven’t recorded there often, but I did with [bassist] Charles Fambrough, on his [1992] record The Charmer. I was on about half of it, and [fellow pianist] Kenny Kirkland was on the other half of it.
Then, I did a record for CTI, for Creed Taylor: Lost Voices, in 1993. We did that at Rudy Van Gelder’s, when Rudy was in the control room. I recorded this record on the same piano.
UKJN: I know Creed died a couple of years ago. What was he like?
BOC: I liked Creed. He was pretty cool. He didn’t tell me what I had to play. He let me do what I wanted to do at the time, and I got along with him fine.
The thing about recording at Rudy Van Gelder’s is that he and Creed were like a team, because they had done so many projects together. But the one who was a little more intimidating was Rudy.
UKJN: Whoa, really?
BOC: Yeah, because it was almost like it was Rudy’s record date. You were coming into his studio, and you had the privilege of him recording you.
So, we did two days. The first day was OK, but the second day, we worked through some stuff. The band and I rehearsed a little bit, and he told me, “Hey, this isn’t a rehearsal studio. This is a recording studio.”
UKJN: Ice cold!
BOC: Right? I’m going, “Wow, yeah” – but we just wanted to play the music, you know? We had to run a few things. I walked over to Creed and said, “What’s happening here?” He said, “Don’t worry about it. Do what you have to do.” So, I did.
Needless to say, the first day, we really didn’t get much done. But the second day, we did just about the whole album. It was a CD at that point, and I thought it came out very good. And at the end of the day, Rudy and I were best friends, so it was all fine.
UKJN: ‘Maiden Voyage’ is, of course, a major tune in the canon. Can you speak to its importance, and Herbie’s?
BOC: If I had to go to a desert island, and I could only take one pianist’s records, it might be Herbie’s. You know, Billy Hart played with Herbie for a while, and he said it was one of Herbie’s favourite tunes that Herbie wrote.
We deconstructed it a little bit; I changed the harmonic [content] slightly, and we played it a little differently. But I think the tune still comes across, with a little rice and beans – a Latin thing at the end of the solo – for Billy to stretch out on.
UKJN: Over the years, what have you learned, as per truly inhabiting Latin music?
BOC: Well, this isn’t a Latin jazz record, but it’s got elements: ‘Cay-Man’ is an island thing I wrote down in the Cayman Islands a few years ago.
I’ve done many records in the Latin jazz mode. I was very happy when [jazz guitarist and Jojo Records owner] Simon [Belelty] came to me and was into doing just a trio record, more on the jazz side.
Without labouring the point – because this isn’t really what this record is about – I’ve been doing it for years. I came to New York in the ‘70s with the Latin scene. The salsa scene was pretty vibrant. I played with bands, and heard the music, and I was into it. When I hear the music, I feel like I have something to add.
