Esbjörn Svensson Interview: 19th January 2001
“In the late 20th century overseas jazz was expected to operate in the shadows of the US scene. In all fairness, that was a view most often espoused by New York jazz critics—or rather implied by these critics in their writings. Stuart bristled at this close-mindedness. And I had to give him credit for knowing his stuff. He was totally on top of what was happening at that moment (or any given moment) in Europe, even at a granular level. Stuart was a trusted advisor, one of my most knowledgeable sources, and he insisted insisted that I absolutely had to share his love for the Esbjörn Svensson Trio (EST), which wasn’t just another solid Euro outfit, but was legitimately shaking up the scene with something fresh and different. I’m happy to say he was right.” TED GIOIA, THE HONEST BROKER WEBSITE
On a warm night in May, 2006 e.s.t., which had begun life as the Esbjörn Svensson Trio, played Lyon, the third largest city in France. For the past two or three years the group, with Dan Berglund on bass and Magnus Öström on drums, had been creating a rising buzz of excitement wherever they played in Europe. Standing ovations, countless encores and wild applause had become common. But this particular night it all seemed to come to a head.
As the group walked onstage it was as if the clock had been turned back to the days of Beatle-mania. Young girls in the audience of over 1,500 people, and there were plenty, burst out screaming. The rest of the audience were whistling, shouting, stamping and applauding. The noise was deafening. And they hadn’t even played a note of music.
e.s.t. were finally entering the big time. Years of constant touring — 100 to 200 gigs a year was not uncommon — were finally paying off and there was a universal belief among those involved in the European jazz economy that it could not have happened to three nicer or more hard working guys. They were praised for their professionalism, their unfailing punctuality, their cheerful disposition whatever the circumstances (things can and do go wrong at festivals), their rapport with audiences, and their willingness to stay on after concerts for as long as it took signing autographs and making new friends.
They had come a long way since their album live ’95, when as unknowns outside their native Sweden they were recorded performing during a tour of small towns such as Möndal, Nyköping, Uppsala and Århus where Svensson even plays an upright piano on two tracks. But even then the trio, which had been formed three years earlier, had already begun to forge a collective voice, a hallmark of their style.
It’s probably fair to say the success of e.s.t. may have taken some outside the jazz economy by surprise – such as the mainstream media who were forced to sit up and take notice at the remarkable success of a jazz group – but the one person who never had any doubt the band would make it was Esbjörn Svensson.
A dynamic and immensely personable young man, he was classical graduate of the Royal College of Music in Stockholm, who quickly established himself on the Swedish jazz scene as a rising star. His early influences were Thelonious Monk and Keith Jarrett (from his Facing You period) and, just as important, yet seldom commented, were the influence of local heroes Bengt Hallberg and the visionary pianist Jan Johansson. Underpinning it all was his love and affinity for classical music – indeed, e.s.t’s 2006 album Tuesday Wonderland was inspired by Bach’s Well Tempered Clavier.
Svensson’s compositions often had more in common with the structure of contemporary pop tunes than the American Popular Song. Many contained beautiful, almost sensuous melodies that were imbued with the pensive melancholy of the Nordic Tone, an important if largely misunderstood, voice within jazz.
A couple of years experience playing in pop and rock bands before he formed e.s.t. taught him the value of presentation, and from the very beginning they made financial sacrifices to carry sound engineer Åke Linton (known as the fourth member of the trio) with them whenever they could. Lighting was also an important consideration at their concerts, and a lighting engineer was added to their entourage when finances permitted. “Some musicians think standing in front of a microphone in a white spotlight is all that you need, and that’s okay. Not for us though,” said Svensson.
When the group signed with Siggi Loch’s ACT label and Burkhard Hopper became their manager, e.s.t. began to take off following the release of Gargarin’s Point of View in 1999. With fresh, original material and imaginative presentation, the group began to win fans beyond the usual jazz constituency. As they built a broadly based fan base in Europe, the buzz surrounding them began to spread to the United States.
In 2002 they embarked on a three week tour of the US which was followed in 2003 by a tour playing support for k. d. lang. Subsequently, they toured annually, prompting Downbeat magazine to proclaim in a bold 2006 headline that Europe Invades: “The Esbjörn Svensson Trio Leads The Breakthrough Of New, Adventurous Jazz Musicians Coming From Across The Pond.” It was the first time in Downbeat’s entire 72 year history that a European jazz group had featured on their cover.
On 21 June 2008, e.s.t. was due to make a widely anticipated appearance headlining the JVC Jazz Festival in New York. At 44, Svensson’s trio had accomplished so much yet now seemed poised to repeat the kind of breakthrough they had achieved among European audiences in America. One of the most influential artists in recent jazz history, a new album Leucocyte had been completed and plans were already in hand for extensive touring to support its release, but sadly a diving accident claimed Svensson’s life on 14 June 2008. A devoted family man, he was survived by his wife and two young sons.
This happened years ago, but I still remember it vividly. A jazz-loving friend called to tell me about EST—which he insisted I absolutely must check out.
I feared the worst. Maybe I needed to mount an intervention.
The only EST I knew about back then was a crazy cult that flourished on the West Coast during my 20s and 30s. The initials stood for Erhard Seminars Training, and…went beyond the pale even by California’s loose standards.
So I was relieved when I learned, from my friend, that his brand of EST wasn’t a cult, but a new jazz band. The initials (sometimes presented modestly in lowercase as e.s.t.) stood for the Esbjörn Svensson Trio, which was attracting an enthusiastic following among young music lovers in Europe—and apparently without any self-degradation happening in the audience.
So EST wasn’t a cult, but a band with a cult following.
Let me tell you about Stuart Nicholson.
Back in those days, he was the most fervent and enthusiastic advocate for European jazz I’d ever met. In a way, he was like his own cult, but with a headcount of one. Even when I lived in Europe, which I did for two stints (in England and Italy) I’d never encountered anyone with such devotion to Euro jazz.
Let me say that this is more common nowadays (and Stuart gets some credit for the attitudinal shift), but in the late 20th century overseas jazz was expected to operate in the shadows of the US scene. In all fairness, that was a view most often espoused by New York jazz critics—or rather implied by these critics in their writings, which sometimes acted as if the only significant contributions from across the Atlantic were Django Reinhardt back in the 1930s, and a few ECM albums of more recent vintage. But until recently, even many European jazz fans had bought into the notion of stateside superiority, to varying degrees.
Stuart bristled at this close-mindedness. And I had to give him credit for knowing his stuff. He was totally on top of what was happening at that moment (or any given moment) in Europe, even at a granular level. He could tell you whether the drummers were better in Zagreb or Uppsala. He was your source if you wanted a ranking of alto sax players in Montevideo, or an update on the festival scene in Greece, or the name of the best bass player to hire for a gig in Sintra or a recording session in Bergen.
The downside was that Stuart always had something I needed to listen to—drop everything, Ted, and check it out. But he was a trusted advisor, one of my most knowledgeable sources, and he insisted that I absolutely had to share his love for the Esbjörn Svensson Trio (EST), which wasn’t just another solid Euro outfit, but was legitimately shaking up the scene with something fresh and different—and ought to get more credit for this in the US.
I’m happy to say he was right. And sad to report that EST still doesn’t have the respect it deserves in the US. And it’s too late now because Esbjörn Svensson died in the aftermath of a swimming accident a few years later.
Or maybe it’s not too late, because a posthumous solo piano release came out yesterday, almost 15 years after the pianist’s death. It gives US music media another chance to review Svensson’s life and times, and spread the word among listeners. Or maybe those US jazz radio stations, who typically passed on this artist the first time around, will give him some posthumous rotations on their playlists.
But that hardly matters, because Svensson changed the landscape of global jazz during his short time with us, even if he doesn’t have much name recognition in the genre’s native land. I could describe this change in many ways, but perhaps the most obvious impact was economic. European jazz festivals once relied heavily on touring American musicians for legitimacy and audience draw, but that’s not quite so true anymore, and the success of EST was a major turning point in this shift.
Young audiences at European festivals lined up to see pianist Esbjörn Svensson along with bandmates drummer Magnus Öström and bassist Dan Berglund. They even seemed to prefer this band over senior citizen jazz veterans playing the vintage styles from America. In short order, other European jazz ensembles were imitating Svensson’s approach, and even if they weren’t borrowing the specific sounds of EST, they bought into the notion that they controlled their own destiny, and didn’t need to worry about what was playing several thousand miles away at Birdland or the Village Vanguard.
I noticed the change most strikingly when I traveled to England for a jazz conference, not long after the rise of EST. I thought I understood the British jazz scene very well—after all, I had lived and gigged in the UK for two years when I was younger. But something had changed since that time. In a previous day, jazz musicians in Europe would ask me what was happening in the US, but they now showed zero curiosity in this subject. Instead, they wanted to talk about what was taking place in their own world.
And they had plenty to talk about. The first ten years following the rise of EST witnessed a flourishing of local jazz scenes in almost every major city on the continent. Yet even more impressive than the talent, was the level of confidence. A genuine sense of self-determination and homegrown authenticity could almost be felt in the air.
I can’t give Esbjörn Svensson total credit for this. But, even so, I believe that the rise of EST was the tipping point.