JAZZ REVIEW : Shearing’s Soft Sell : The pianist plays gently and intimately, making melody the star and letting the Cerritos Center audience in on the secret.

George Shearing knows how to get through to an audience: Forget about pounding the piano, and gather in your listeners with delicacy.

That was the approach taken Saturday, anyway, at the Cerritos Center for the Performing Arts where the distinguished Englishman, who will be 75 in August, was joined by bassist Neil Swainson for an eight-song set. Shearing sat straight up at a nine-foot-long Steinway and played as gently and intimately as if he were whispering secrets in a corner at a party.

The result? Mostly silence as Shearing and Swainson wended their wondrous way through such numbers as Dave Brubeck’s “The Duke” and Shearing’s own “Lullaby of Birdland” and “Just a Mood.”

People didn’t even applaud the succulent solos, waiting instead until a piece had finished before displaying their rousing approval. Only during a comic melding of Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata” and Cole Porter’s “Night and Day” did outbursts accompany a selection.

Don’t get the idea that the use of softness--as if it were a third player on the stage--translated into any lack of energy. Rather, Shearing glided gracefully from phrase to phrase, insistently making melody the star.

Famous for his verbal wit, Shearing established immediate rapport with the audience: The blind musician sat at the piano and proceeded to announce that he’d done “16 concerts in 23 days, and I finally got tired and let somebody else drive.” Between tunes, he would offer more light, often funny chatter, and then would get back to the serious art of music making.

“The Duke,” probably Brubeck’s finest composition, began with Shearing playing hide-and-seek with the falling-rising melody--exposing the tune in a line of single notes, then quickly tucking it in among dusky chords. During his solo, he picked his notes precisely, like a shopper carefully choosing only the very best apples. There was a sweetness to these tones; obviously, all the fruit he selected was ripe.

Bassist Swainson, meanwhile, played fat, buoyant notes that either fit ideally with what Shearing was doing, or provided resonant countermelodies to the piano statements.

The engaging “Just a Mood” varied between a pensive somber quality and a quiet glee, and was played as slowly as the sun sets, though Shearing did drop in the occasional brisk aside.

“This Can’t Be Love” was played at a sprightly medium tempo; Shearing added zippy lines with Oscar Peterson-like flair. During “Handful of Stars,” Swainson compellingly contrasted complex statements with groups of scant, well-placed notes.

Accompanying the recently reviewed Joe Williams during the second half of the program, Shearing (still with Swainson and joined by drummer Sherman Ferguson) offered ripples of flowing melody, a swirling backdrop that seemed to inspire the singer during “End of a Beautiful Friendship,” “Here’s to Life” and “I Didn’t Know About You.” Shearing’s affinity for the blues was evident during such gutsy numbers as “I’d Rather Drink Muddy Water” and its dandy boogie-woogie phrases.

Throughout the evening, the Cerritos concert showed that Shearing’s position as one of the modern masters of melody remains secure.