mary_jo and nsp, in answer to your question, the feeling that the text invoked is not unlike the feeling that I often experience when I listen to Bill Evans play.
**** a story about a man afflicted by one of those personal tragedies born of extreme shyness ****
**** he having disguised even his voice, and since he didn’t take careful note of whoever had listened to him, he could enjoy the ample sensation of knowing that somewhere in the world there was someone who knew him ****
Bill Evans is one of my favorite jazz pianists. If forced to choose only one as my favorite, he would probably be the one. His playing has always given me a sense of introspection, even shyness. The tone he produced on a piano was gentle and round without much percussive quality. At the risk of being politically incorrect, there was something very femenine about the attitude in his playing. I saw him live at the Village Vanguard about half a dozen times back in the late 70’s. He would walk unto the band stand without saying a word to either the audience or band mates. The aura he projected was one of someone who had something heavy on his mind; never even a hint of a smile. He would sit at the piano hunched over with his head almost touching the keyboard. The music was glorious. Great introspection and sense of tenderness in his playing. I hope that clarifies my comment.
**** a story about a man afflicted by one of those personal tragedies born of extreme shyness ****
**** he having disguised even his voice, and since he didn’t take careful note of whoever had listened to him, he could enjoy the ample sensation of knowing that somewhere in the world there was someone who knew him ****
Bill Evans is one of my favorite jazz pianists. If forced to choose only one as my favorite, he would probably be the one. His playing has always given me a sense of introspection, even shyness. The tone he produced on a piano was gentle and round without much percussive quality. At the risk of being politically incorrect, there was something very femenine about the attitude in his playing. I saw him live at the Village Vanguard about half a dozen times back in the late 70’s. He would walk unto the band stand without saying a word to either the audience or band mates. The aura he projected was one of someone who had something heavy on his mind; never even a hint of a smile. He would sit at the piano hunched over with his head almost touching the keyboard. The music was glorious. Great introspection and sense of tenderness in his playing. I hope that clarifies my comment.