Not many memoirs open with a bar mitzvah leading straight into opera, but Steven Blier was never headed for tackle football like the other kids in his neighborhood. From Ear to Ear traces his path from impromptu piano gigs in the 1960s to a career spent playing for some of the most recognized voices in classical music, and this audiobook arrives with an unusually specific promise: the story of a career built around making other performers sound their best.
Blier is a collaborative pianist, which is its own kind of career, distinct from the soloist path most classical memoirs cover. The synopsis describes his rise as a picaresque and unfailingly entertaining road to that career, and the word fits: this reads less like a straight chronological climb than a string of gigs, mentors, and partnerships that add up to what the synopsis calls a dazzling career as an accompanist, teacher, and producer. He built that reputation over decades, eventually founding the New York Festival of Song, and along the way partnered with singers including Renee Fleming, Susan Graham, Jessye Norman, Cecilia Bartoli, and Lorraine Hunt Lieberson. The synopsis notes that thousands of listeners have fallen in love with his work through that festival alone. The book also credits mentors like Alvin Epstein and Martha Schlamme, giving the memoir a sense of lineage rather than just a list of famous names to drop. What comes through in the synopsis, and in the reader reactions collected here, is that Blier treats his own career as secondary to the music itself, more interested in explaining what makes a song work than in cataloging his own achievements.
Running alongside the professional story is Blier's account of living with a rare form of muscular dystrophy, described as a lifelong battle handled with what reviewers repeatedly call a wry sense of humor. Gordy Slack's review calls the book "a delightful and intimate memoir by an extraordinary man," pointing specifically to Blier's affection for the people in his life, his love of language, and what Slack describes as courage, determination, and humor in the face of adversity. Betsy C goes further, calling it a story of "grit, determination, strength, fortitude, and finding beauty, music and meaning in the face of a frightful diagnosis." Neither reviewer treats the illness as the point of the book. Both treat it as one thread in a life that was already full before the diagnosis arrived.
Seen Through the Eyes of a Humble Legend
Listeners who already know who Renee Fleming or Jessye Norman are will find a specific kind of payoff here: the audiobook reads as an insider's account of the collaborative pianist role, a job most people never think about even though it shapes every vocal recital they have ever heard. William H.'s review notes that Blier's program notes were already known to be well written, and that the memoir shows him having, in William H.'s words, "outdone himself," with a magisterial command of language and vivid memories of the piano and vocal world, particularly in New York. Jonathan Estabrooks describes the book as a page turner he could barely put down, calling it "witty, intimate and heartfelt," and framing it as an exploration of music and the ups and downs of life seen through, as he puts it, "the eyes of a humble legend."
Bonnie Gainsley's review makes a case for the book beyond a classical music audience specifically, recommending it as a holiday gift for anyone who loves how music is presented, and pointing to Blier's humor, intellect, knowledge, and sensitivity as reasons it works even for readers without a background in opera. Gainsley also ties the praise back to the title itself, noting that Blier's devotion applies to music and, as she puts it, "in particular, to song," which lines up with what the synopsis promises: song interpretation and what makes a given song work sit at the center of the book rather than backstage anecdotes for their own sake. That range, from specialist appeal to broader gift-book appeal, is unusual for a memoir this specific in subject matter, and it suggests the writing itself is doing real work rather than coasting on Blier's list of famous collaborators.
None of the Reviews Mention Axtell's Narration
Every review currently posted on this listing is dated in November and December of 2025, weeks to months before the audiobook's stated release date of January 27, 2026. That gap is worth flagging rather than explaining away. It likely means these reviews were written for the print edition, since Amazon listings often pool reviews across formats on a single product page, but the sheet does not confirm that either way, so treat the five reviews as reactions to Blier's book generally rather than to Michael David Axtell's narration specifically. None of them mention the audio production at all, which is common enough for a memoir like this but means listeners are choosing based on the writing and the story rather than any account of how the recording actually sounds.
One more note is worth adding on the numbers: the listing shows a perfect 5.0 average from 15 ratings, and the math only works one way: with 15 votes producing a maximum possible total of 75 points, a 5.0 average means every one of those 15 ratings was a five star vote. That is a real signal about how the early audience responded, though with only five written reviews behind those 15 ratings, it reflects a small and clearly self-selected group of readers rather than a broad sample.
Handled with Humor Rather Than Solemnity
Vocal recital devotees, and anyone who has sat in on a masterclass wondering what the accompanist is actually doing at the piano while the singer gets the attention, will find a strong pick here. It also earns its place on the People with Disabilities tag attached to this title. Reviewers consistently describe Blier's account of his muscular dystrophy as handled with humor rather than solemnity, which matters if you want a disability memoir that refuses to let illness become the whole story. Listeners hoping for a music industry tell-all with score settling and gossip may find the tone gentler than expected. Listeners who prefer a strictly chronological rise-and-fall career biography should also know going in that the synopsis itself calls the book picaresque, meaning the structure follows the adventure rather than the calendar. Every review here points toward warmth and craft instead, with Blier's own writing, not his list of famous collaborators, doing most of the work.
