Playing a club date one evening recently, Jazz Pianist Bill Evans slid unaccompanied into a fragilely twining song of his own composition titled Peace Piece. Afterwards, a teen-age fan rushed ecstatically up to the piano. "He told me," recalls Evans with a faintly puzzled frown, "that when he heard it he felt like he was standing all alone in New York."
In varying degrees Evans, 32, inspires the same feeling of apartness in all his fans. At the piano he seems transported, and some of the trancelike visual effect rubs off on the customers. When he hunches his tall, spare frame over...
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