George Shearing (1919–2011)
A prolific composer, Sir George Albert Shearing was a pianist and composer known for his accessible block chord mastery of bebop piano.
Shearing was the youngest of nine children born in Battersea, London, into a poor working class family. Blind from birth, he showed early promise by memorising tunes on the radio and picking them out on the family’s piano. He took piano lessons from a local teacher, which were continued at a school for the blind in Wandsworth.
Offered a university music scholarship, the 16-year-old Shearing instead opted for paid work as a solo pianist in local pubs.
Shearing quickly developed an interest in jazz and played in small groups and bands in the late 1930s and 1940s. Early influences included the stride-based styles of Teddy Wilson and Fats Waller. During World War II he recorded many times with Stéphane Grappelli, who was a refugee in London.
In 1946 Shearing visited a British friend in New York and recorded for the Savoy label. He emigrated the following year and formed an innovative quintet with guitar, vibraphone, bass and drums. He toured successfully over many years and included a classical element in some concerts. He experimented with a big band as well as with trios and duos.
After a fall in 2004, Shearing retired from public performances. He was knighted in 2007 for services to music. He was a two-time Grammy winner for “An evening with George Shearing and Mel Tormé”, and as a composer he’ll be particularly remembered for the standard “Lullaby of Birdland”.
Biography by John Rosie
The Shearing spell
In a 1976 interview by Les Tomkins, George Shearing talks about his up-coming concert.
George Shearing: Interview 2
Image Details
| Interview date | 1st January 1976 |
|---|---|
| Interview source | Jazz Professional |
| Image source credit | |
| Image source URL | |
| Reference number | |
| Forename | George |
| Surname | Shearing |
| Quantity | 2 |
Interview Transcription
With about nine years having gone by since George Shearing last played live in his home country, it was natural that there should have been speculation as to the musical content of his one London concert, at the New Victoria on March 30. During a brief chat earlier in the day, George intimated to me that the famous Quintet sound would be the mainstay of his show. Which is what most Shearing devotees, if called on to guess, would have thought to be likely. However, in the event, no more than half of the concert's duration was taken up by that three—part voicing.
Curtain up revealed the anticipated instrumental grouping onstage, and, amid great applause, George was led out to his piano, to join Ted Pilsecker (vibes), Earl Klugh (guitar), Andy Simpkins (bass) and Rusty Jones (drums). Before they were very far into the boppish opening theme (Sonny Rollins' "Oleo"), it was clear that this particular quintet could be compared favourably to any of its predecessors. "The Way We Were" and Joe Henderson's "Record—A—Me" followed, and the sole nostalgia trip of the evening was a medley of old favourites—" East Of The Sun", "Roses Of Picardy", "I'll Remember April" and "September In The Rain". The reminiscent glow that these induced gave, in the next item, "Lullaby Of Birdland", reinforcement to my belief that grafting on Latin rhythms does nothing to enhance the Shearing sound.
The vibist and the guitarist left the stage, and we heard a different sound—that of the Shearing Trio. Very nice, but with the departure of bass and drums came the first of the two most musically satisfying segments of the concert. At the end of a month when several excellent exponents of the art of solo piano had been in town, George demonstrated that he can hold his own in this field with the best of them. As, indeed. he has been doing for years—right back to those MGM singles of "Tenderly" and "Summertime". On this occasion he did total justice to one of Michel Legrand's most beautiful ballads, "The Summer Knows". Then. an unexpected addition—George sang a very pleasant vocal on "Send In The Clowns", accompanying himself sparingly. A solo spree before the interval was George's amusing treatment of Scott Joplin's "Entertainer", neatly wrapped up with a Garner imitation.
Four helpings of Quintet music constituted the second half quota, including "Here's That Rainy Day" and a selection from the show A Little Night Music (instrumental "Clowns" this time). The paring down process was speedier than before—one tune with bass only behind him, Lennon—McCartney's "Here, There, And Everywhere" (underlining how good a song that is), and George was on his own again. Listening to him weaving his musical spell on such themes as "What Kind Of Fool Am I?", "April In Paris", "Greensleeves" and "Two Sleepy People", noting the audience reaction and his highly inventive responses to their called—out requests, it seemed he could well have carried the whole proceedings in a strictly, solo capacity. Not that the other musicians didn't make very worth—while contributions, of course.
It was obvious how much George appreciated his warm welcome in the old country; as well as playing "Greensleeves", he vocalised "A Nightingale Sang In Berkeley Square". After the final encore, in a moving speech, he explained that a very real problem had kept him away so long—his fear of flying. But he intended to conquer that fear again after a much shorter space of time.
To all those who had enjoyed the two hours of Shearing magic, that was very good news.
A Pre—Concert Chat With George
Very nice to see you here in London, George. Welcome back.
Thank you. It's really nice to be þ back after all this time. I suppose I should really try to come back more often, so that we wouldn't have quite as much time to catch up on.
Is it entirely concerts that you play now?
Yes—what we call Community Concerts, which are season—ticket, subscription—type concerts. So we're on the road between those and symphony concerts, where I play usually a Mozart concerto in the first half of the programme and jazz in the second. We're travelling for about nine—and—a—half months a year.
So you're keeping as active now as you've ever done?
I think in certain areas the demand is greater than it has ever been, and my business is better than it's been in thirty years. My health is good, and the music business is so precarious, as you know—you've got to make it while you can make it, and that's exactly what we're doing.
And you're sticking largely to the established Shearing sound that people expect from you?
Oh yes, unquestionably, because if you establish an identity, you build a monster—and that's right, you've got to live with it. Of course, you can enjoy it, too.
What happened as regards your own record label that you had?
Well, I don't like to talk extensively about this but, of course, Trixie and I divorced in 1972. So, when you sever the umbilical, you sever every strand—and one of the strands was Sheba Records. She still has it, and operates it, and anything I can do to help, I do, you know. But obviously my first allegiance today is to MPS, because that's the company I'm under contract to, and they're doing a fine jab in terms of their product, and everything else.
Of the albums you've done for MPS, is there one you're particularly pleased with?
There is a piano solo album, called "My Ship", which I like quite a lot. I think it was Duke Ellington who once said that we're always most pleased with our current record. I mean, you have to assume that you learn from one, and you do something better next time. And the last time I had a chance to do something better was what I did resulting in the current record—which is called "Continental Experience". I did three, as a matter of fact, while I was in Germany for a brief visit last year. One was "The Way We Are", which is a bunch of tunes of the vintage of "The Way We Were". "Continental Experience" is a number of our old standards, like "East Of The 'Sun", re—vamped with the Latin sounds. Both those albums have Latin feeling. The other one was the solo album, which is not yet out in the States—I don't know whether it is here or not.
I'm looking forward to your concert. What may we expect?
The quintet formula, basically—a mixture of the old and the new. There'll be songs like "I'll Remember April" in the old form, and then—" Lullaby Of Birdland" in the new form. And perhaps "Spain" 'by Chick Corea or something. A mixture of things.
Various musicians have told me you recommended they listen to certain present—day music.
You keep your ears wide open? I try to—but, you know, you're on the road so much. I don't like freedom jazz—I think it's void of roots and void of foundation. Teddy Wilson, I think, said .a little while ago that it's much easier to come in and play whatever comes into your mind, without obeying any of the laws of bass line and harmony and so on.. But it's not meant to be easy.
Have you come up with any of your tune title twists recently? I was wondering if you were responsible for "What Are You Doing Molesting My Wife?"
No—but isn't that marvellous? I haven't written an awful lot recently, but I think I probably will start again very shortly. Being so much on the road, when you have a couple of weeks off, you're likely to avoid sitting at the piano, and taping, and giving yourself more work to do.
There's a lot of pressure, a lot of busy times; when we get off, I'm truly very capable of sitting in an armchair, lying back, and either reading or going to sleep—or playing bridge. Or going tandem cycling—which I think is the safest way for a blind man to ride a bike!
Copyright © 1976, Les Tomkins. All Rights Reserved.
