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Fred Hersch probably couldn’t imagine a worse time for an interview.

When I called the eminent jazz pianist at home in Manhattan, he’d just found out that the trumpeter and flugelhornist Enrico Rava, 83, with whom he released “The Song Is You” (ECM Records) in September, had been admitted to the hospital. The same morning, Hersch’s husband Scott Morgan had tested positive for COVID-19. Hersch thought he’d be spending the next several days performing with Rava in Italy. Instead, he was on his way out the door to abscond to his and Morgan’s rural Pennsylvania cottage, alone, while Morgan recovered.

“So, a little bit of drama,” Hersch said placidly, as though discussing breakfast.

That unflappable calm wasn’t forged overnight. Hersch, who turned 67 last month, became one of the first major jazz artists to come out as gay and HIV positive in the early 1990s — a professionally risky decision in a scene that was, especially at that time, overwhelmingly straight and male. Then, in 2008, Hersch nearly died from septic shock. He spent two months in a medically induced coma; when he was well enough to be discharged from the hospital, he all but had to re-teach himself piano.

Hersch partly attributes his groundedness to his meditation practice, which, he insists, isn’t too far off from playing music. (“When I started sitting meditation, I realized, “Oh, I’ve been doing this my whole life, just on piano bench.”) No wonder musicians flock to him as a duo partner, a relatively rare configuration in jazz that requires not only intense focus but profound trust. Up next is “Alive at the Village Vanguard” (Jan. 6, 2023, Palmetto Records), a duo album recorded live in 2018 at the venerable club with vocalist and bassist Esperanza Spalding.

Pianist and composer Fred Hersch is in concert Nov. 9 at Evanston SPACE.
Pianist and composer Fred Hersch is in concert Nov. 9 at Evanston SPACE.

Before then, he’ll visit at Evanston SPACE with his new trio, which is featured on another recent release: “Breath by Breath,” which augments the jazz group with the plush sonics of a string quartet (the Crosby Street String Quartet; in a nod to the LaSalle String Quartet, the group named itself after the New York street at which they first rehearsed with Hersch). The following has been edited for length and clarity.

Q: You’re playing here with bassist Drew Gress and drummer Jochen Rueckert, as well as on “Breath by Breath,” which you released earlier this year. I think the last time you played in that configuration here, it was with your longtime trio (John Hébert on bass and Eric McPherson on drums). What’s different about this new trio’s approach and energy?

A: John, Eric and I were a very successful band: We won a lot of critics’ polls, we were in big festivals all over the place. John was sort of a wildcard, always instigating things and mixing it up. And Eric was the straight man — he’s consistent. With this new trio, Drew is a little more the straight man and Jochen is the wildcard, which means I play off the drums more. I can’t really put my finger on it, but it seems to suit me right now.

I’m sure (John, Eric and I) will play together again, in some form or fashion. But coming out of the pandemic, I think it’s a good time to put a bracket on it and say, “Wow, we had a fantastic 10 years.”

Q: In the promo material for “Breath by Breath,” you said, “I’ve put all my streaming gear away… It was great while that was what it was, and now I’m in this place where it’s live or nothing.” But I’d assume your own vigilance about your health post-coma is super heightened as long as COVID is still out there. How are you balancing your desire for live performance with the very real risks involved?

A: During the first lockdown, I did Facebook Lives every day for a couple months. It was just a tune a day at one o’clock; it gave me something to do and made people feel happy for five minutes. “Songs from Home” was an outgrowth of that. After a couple of months, it became a chore; I thought this would be over in four or five months. But by that point, I knew it was going to be a year and a half in terms of vaccinations and gigs coming back. That guess ended up being pretty on the money.

Of course, I had to put “Breath by Breath” on hold, because we couldn’t be in the studio. In a way, that was good, because I had another year to digest and figure out what I wanted to do with it. During that year, the online Vipassana community (reflective Buddhist meditation practice) responded so well to the lockdown. They led virtual sitting groups, they suggested retreats in your home for a weekend where you put your devices away… It helped me get through it. Eventually, I added a few pieces (to “Breath by Breath”) that were a reflection of the time I spent locked down, which was about 14 months between the first and last gig — not terrible.

At the Village Vanguard, I’ve had people come up to me and say, “This is the first live music I’ve heard in two and a half years.” Some people do not want to go out. I get that; it’s up to everybody. But for me personally, those first months (of lockdown), I’d describe myself as languishing. I wasn’t really motivated to play or write any music. I was very fatalistic: Why bother? I was looking back on my career thinking, “OK, well, if this is it, I can look back and say I hit all the marks.” As an 18-year-old in Cincinnati, just starting to play jazz, I could have never imagined the kind of career I’ve had. So, I occupied myself with computer games and crime novels — you know, just comfort things. But I think there was a lot of numbing.

Now, I’ve started playing live again, and it feels fantastic, really. Plus, frankly, I’ve decided that I’m really unwilling to go through travel heroics just for a few bucks. I want the conditions to be right; I want it to be fun. That’s almost more important than the money.

This is the second time in my life I’ve been knocked down for a year and a half. From psychotic break to coma to recovery and rehab, that was a year and a half, at least. Each time I’ve come back, I’ve felt better about playing. I’m not as hard on myself with my finger slips, or if I have a momentary brain fart. I’m alive and playing. At least I’m going for it.

Q: Breath has taken on new layers of meaning in the past few years. But “Breath by Breath” wasn’t the original name of the album.

A: I started with “Refuge,” another title with Buddhist resonance: (one) takes refuge in the Buddha, and the Dharma, the teachings and the sangha, which is the community of practitioners. Then I went through another title, “The Sati Suite,” from the Pali word for mindfulness. But then, people thought it was named after Erik Satie. “Breath by Breath” felt like a more inclusive and descriptive title rather than anything having to do directly with a Buddhist term.

“Breath by Breath” started out as a completely different kind of piece. Finally, when it settled into what it was, it began with the cello very lightly pulsing, almost like a heartbeat, right? Then, the rest just sort of came. Because that’s really the way we live: breath by breath. It’s the only way to be.

Fred Hersch Trio plays 8 p.m. Nov. 9 at Evanston SPACE, 1245 Chicago Ave., Evanston; tickets $20-$35 at evanstonspace.com.

Hannah Edgar is a freelance writer.

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