Back in the mid-Seventies, Norman Granz issued a bunch of duets on his Pablo Records label. I remember them well. Chuck (aka Myrtle), my record dealer in Madison, used to save the promo copies for me. Two bucks for a great musical experience, but at the time, some of the albums seemed to offer odd configurations: Oscar Peterson (piano) with Roy Eldridge (trumpet), and Oscar Peterson with Jon Faddis (flugelhorn), to name but two. Not so odd was Oscar Peterson and Joe Pass (guitar), which came out a few years later. One great album, which makes a strong case for piano-guitar duets. Tonight, Fred Hersch (piano) and Julian Lage (guitar) made another strong case.

As I expected, the main stage in the Reva and David Logan Center was clutter free when I walked into the hall. Just a Steinway piano, one music stand, and a Fender guitar resting in a stand. The guitar’s brownish-yellow face complemented the hall’s wood nicely.

After a brief set of announcement’s from series host Amy Iwano, Fred and Julian walked on the stage, took their positions, and began a 75-minute journey. They opened with Sam River’s Beatrice, then played two of Hersch’s original compositions. Along the way, we heard the familiar sounds of Monk’s Dream, Roy Orbison’s Love Hurts, and Fat Waller’s Jitterbug Waltz, among several others. At times, it was difficult to decipher whether it was the piano or guitar taking the lead, so intertwined were the notes.

I’d seen Hersch several times before, but this was first opportunity to hear Lage, who Hersch’s junior by 33 years. Lage was a child prodigy, who earned a documentary at age 8 entitled Jules at Eight. He first performed at the Grammy Awards at age 12. Since then, he has worked with Gary Burton, Kris Davis, David Grisman, Toots Thielemans, Carlos Santana, John Zorn, Pat Methany, Chris Eldridge, Kenny Werner, and Jim Hall.

Don’t look for any pyrotechnics in Lage’s playing. He is all about understatement and subtly. He certainly didn’t do any Pete Townsend windmills, nor did he set his guitar on fire. He largely stood in one position, rarely moving his body, except for a couple of crouches. The same could be said of Hersch. Yet, when combined, the two are explosive in a quiet way.