The name George Shearing means a lot to different people.
To those who attended Shearing's return concert to Utah at the Salt Lake Hilton Tuesday night, his name means noth-ing short of class.The English jazzman, after a decade-long absence, like it up the stage like it had only been yesterday. He played, laughed, talked and joked all through the night and entertained the standing-room-only audience of mixed ages. The Hilton staff had to regretfully turn away a large amount of people who didn't buy tickets in advance.
Those who did make it in heard such romantic ballads as Shearing's instrumental take of Nat "King" Cole's "That Sunday, That Summer" mixed with up-tempo jams like "Constenation," which Shearing wrote while taking his first trans-Atlantic flight. Written before the days of jets, the song actually makes you visualize a plane sweeping through the clouds.
Neil Swainson, who has played upright bass for Shearing for the last nine years, was the only other musician on stage. He played his instrument as accurate and loving as Shearing played his piano, and, like Shearing, felt the music through the wood.
Both musicians complemented each other musically and through personalities. While Shearing was a fun-loving humorist, Swainson was the strong silent type who talked through the beats his fingers rapped off the bass' steel strings.
"The doors are locked and there's nothing you can do about it," Shearing said as he kicked off the concert.
He also delighted the audience with casual-talking name plays on jazz artists and the famous:
"There's F. Scott and Ella Fitzgerald," was one such play. The others were "Woodrow and Nancy Wilson," "George and Dinah Washington." But the biggest laughed erupted when Shearing mischievously grinned and said, "Oscar and Golda Meyer."
Probably one of the finest works Shearing played was his progressive/jazz rendition of the classical "Greensleeves."
For those who weren't familiar with Shearing's other songs - and there were a few people there - "Greensleeves" helped them understand just why Shearing is known for his musical integrity.
From the simple round-note introduction to the neatly arranged sweeping conclusion, "Greensleeves" mesmerized the audience with nostalgia and renewal.
What helped bring the pianist's craft to the far corners of the ballroom were two giant video screens hung on each side of the stage.
Although the camera had to be adjusted to accommodate to Swainson's position, the audience could see Shearing's hands run all over the piano's 88 keys.
Blindness never stopped Shearing from playing music. And some members in the audience let out audible gasps as the musician's hands jumped from low to high chords with accuracy and precision.
But the concert wasn't about perfection. It was about emotion and dynamics. The ballads, though beautiful and romantic, were also provocative.
"Good Morning Heart Ache" was one such ballad that touched the souls of the audience members, who allowed themselves to get freely caught up in the music.
Still, Shearing wouldn't get too serious. His well-timed humor spiced up other tunes with short snippets from "Pop Goes the Weasel" and ragtime runs.
Shearing, now 78, still has a knack for putting on a well-rounded show of entertainment, and the audience showed its appreciation through a number of standing ovations.
Before Shearing hit the stage, Jazz at the Hilton founders Gordon Hanks and Michael McKay were honored by Charles Johnson - Gov. Leavitt's chief of staff - for keeping jazz alive in Utah. Johnson also noted that the governor had recognized April 15, 1997, as "Wes Bowen Day."
"Let it be known on record that Wes Bowen is speechless," Bowen said. "My deepest gratitude goes out to all the listeners."