SHEARING SANS QUINTET: HE’S BETTER THAN EVER

On a recent evening at the Vine St. Bar & Grill in Hollywood, George Shearing offered what seemed, for some listeners, an unconventional performance.

He began by playing “Happy Birthday” for a patron--not your everyday “Happy Birthday,” but a complex, minor-mode version as Bach might have written it. Next he sang a 1950 song, “Wonder Why,” in his slightly tremulous but attractive voice. This eased into an instrumental version with the support of his phenomenal bassist, Don Thompson.

Later came a gentle waltz treatment of “The Shadow of Your Smile”; a vocal “Love for Sale” with more charm than chops (the song placed quite a demand on his range); a sprightly two-beat version of “Put on a Happy Face”; an incredibly swift demolition of Sonny Rollins’ “Oleo,” matched note for note by Thompson; yet another example of Shearing the singer, adding some of his own quirky lyrics to “I Can’t Get Started,” and then, as Thompson put down his bass and moved to an adjoining piano, a keyboard duet that started as a fugue and soon became “Lullaby of Birdland,” Shearing’s best-known original.

The audience, liberally sprinkled with pianists (among them Dudley Moore), refused to let him go. Shearing and Thompson encored with a brilliantly dovetailed piano duo version of John Coltrane’s “Giant Steps.”

All in all, it was as entertaining a show as the pianist had ever put on, but also, by all odds, a superb illustration of his musicianship. George Shearing today, eight years after the breakup of his famous quintet, is playing better than ever.

The next day, he talked about the eventful years since he launched the duo format that has served him so well.

“I feel like I’m playing a little better,” he said, “simply because I’m addressing myself to being a pianist. To reduce yourself to being one-fifth of an entire group, as important as that may have been with all the intricate voicings I arranged for it, was effectively limiting the full scope of being a pianist.

“As you know, I am now playing everything either with Don on bass or piano, or else on my own. The piano is a totally satisfying instrument; it takes care of the melodic, harmonic and rhythmic aspects, which is more than you can say of a horn or any other instrument.”

The 1980s have been years of rare diversity. Recording for Concord, Shearing has made solo LPs and duo sets and has enjoyed a partnership with Mel Torme (in person and on records) that produced their Grammy-winning “Top Drawer” in 1984. Recently he completed a unique project, an album with the French horn virtuoso Barry Tuckwell.

“Wait till you hear this album,” Shearing said. “He has to be the best French hornist in the world. He’s Australian, but we met in London, where he lives, when we were both on the same bill playing with the London Symphony. They wanted us to do one number together as an encore. We played ‘Long Ago and Far Away,’ and when it ended there was a deathly silence for about two seconds--then the whole house burst apart.

“Well, P.S.: I had dinner at his house, he had dinner at my house, and we both said, almost in unison, ‘Let’s do an album!’ I put it to Carl Jefferson at Concord, who never minds sticking his neck out, and he ate up the idea.

“On some tunes we have 10 strings, and we did all Cole Porter songs. I wrote some choruses out for Barry that make him sound as though he’s improvising. I’m really happy about this venture; it’s different and exciting.”

Shearing is serious about his singing, a departure in which he has been encouraged by his wife Ellie, herself a former group singer.

“She listens to me with the very fine ears of a professional singer, shows me how to keep the tone up, watch the intonation, support the voice from the diaphragm. I really did it in the first place because I love lyrics and feel it’s very important to interpret them, phrase them just the way the writer had in mind.”

As Shearing moves into these new areas--singing, playing piano duets, recording with Torme and in other new contexts--the old, long-maintained image of the George Shearing Quintet seems to be fading from the public mind. A new generation is emerging, in fact, to whom the quintet is not even a distant memory.

“That means,” Shearing said, “that my later efforts haven’t gone in vain.”

Might he have given up the quintet earlier, had he had the chance to do it over? The answer came without hesitation.

“Yes, I really would have. For one thing, musically it was pretty much on automatic pilot for the last five years of its life; and there was the economic factor. Traveling on top-grade airlines, with a road manager, paying hundreds of dollars each for six people for a lot of the hops, sometimes having to pick up expensive hotel bills for the musicians too--it just wouldn’t have made sense.

“In retrospect, I’m sorry we didn’t stop at the 25-year mark. That would have been a logical time to go out in a blaze of glory.”

The 29-year record of the Quintet involved a long series of distinguished sidemen, many of whom moved on to successful careers of their own. The original bassist, John Levy, left to become a manager (originally for Shearing, currently for Joe Williams, Nancy Wilson and others). Later there were such bassists as Al McKibbon, Israel Crosby and Andy Simpkins.

The original guitarist was Chuck Wayne, who is still active in New York. Toots Thielemans and Joe Pass later filled that chair. After Margie Hyams, the first vibraphonist, retired, there were Don Elliott, Gary Burton and Charlie Shoemake, among others. The late Denzil Best was the founding drummer; among his successors were Vernel Fournier, Stix Hooper and John Guerin. Shearing also had such Latin percussionists as Armando Peraza for additional rhythmic impetus during most of the quintet’s life.

Not having the quintet to support makes it easier to take a leave of absence. Don Thompson, a Canadian who also plays vibes and drums, will have no trouble killing time when George and Ellie leave July 23 on the Queen Elizabeth II for a monthlong vacation.

“When we get to Southampton,” Shearing said, “we’re going to rent a car, drive through Devonshire and Cornwall, just take our time, and then fly home on the Concord. I don’t expect to have my hands on a keyboard once during those 30 days.

“Sure, I can do that. If Don Thompson were faced with that, he’d go out of his mind. When he comes to stay with us, he’ll have a cup of tea, then get up and go to the piano. Now I love it when I play it, and I always will, but I can get away and spend time reading, working with my Braille word processor, listening to records. I don’t have this irresistible urge to play.”

One activity involving his word processor is the updating of his scrapbooks. He treasures letters from old friends.

“I had a very nice letter a few weeks ago from Gary Burton--gave me something great for the scrapbook. You know, what really pleases me when I look back at the quintet years is the number of times I’ve heard from guys telling me what an experience it was for them. I really am proud of these letters from my alumni--it makes me feel good, and I guess it will until the day I die.”