Tag Archives: Brad Mehldau

Brad Mehldau

Great expectations: London Jazz Festival 2013

Last night on Twitter I summed up my reactions to this year’s EFG London Jazz Festival in a few words:

The huge smile that is Troyk-estra / the power of Phronesis / the majesty of Brad Mehldau / the fun of Sons of Kemet

Many more images and sounds come flooding back:  the awkward stance of Brad Mehldau,  seated with his back to the entire audience, right hand on Steinway , left arm reaching up across his body to an ancient and very deep synth; or maybe he was Prospero conjuring magic from his battery of keyboards, so many fizzing, spacey layers of sound to keep track of yet he kept everything in order, each composition a perfect journey in one direction or another;  his lopsided expression as he took his bow (was he pleased?);  the smell of real smoke at the start of the Sons of Kemet set; the energy of Anton Eger on drums,  his head bucking like a prize stallion tugging at the reins;  bright lights raking the audience in Sons of Kemet, making us feel part of the act;  Kit Downes striking the keyboard so quickly he could just as easily have been receiving electric shocks from the keys;  Jasper Høiby embarrassing latecomers to the set, not once but twice, his ironic comment that the live recording was “No big deal” (when their mesmerising urgent sets indicated that they were playing for the highest stakes); the sparkling fingerwork by Alexi Tuomarila on a humble upright piano at Ray’s Jazz; catching the end of a set by a stellar quintet of Kenny Wheeler, John Taylor, Chris Lawrence, Stan Sulzmann and Jim Hart in the Clore Ballroom; hearing David Redfern tell us that jazz photographers are born not made; learning that just one picture can sum up an artist – not the obvious image but the one that is most honest because it was unposed (Oscar Peterson with his head in one hand, maybe anxiety before a performance or pain, or both?).

My thoughts shift like the particles in a kaleidoscope.  Sometimes I felt alienated by a performance that others were enjoying – Nik Bärtsch is a case where I felt manipulated by the lighting, the staginess of it, the performance felt controlled and controlling.  I respond to honesty in a performance and this one felt contrived.  Twist the kaleidoscope and in my mind’s eye and my heart I feel the wonder and wistfulness of Chaplin by Troyk-estra, the joy of  Chris Montague’s Dropsy where the brass filled the hall with palpable warmth, where people smiled at the sound, where we felt happy to be there.

While I enjoyed it, other people appeared to be disconnected from Brad Mehldau’s performance, I gather some people actually walked out. The video below is by Brad Mehldau and Mark Guiliana from an earlier Mehliana but I want to capture it here as it is typical of the evening.  He may even have played this composition.  But it is also indicative of how he divided his audience into those who had hoped for a little more Steinway and fewer loops.  Was his back to the audience an indicator of arrogance or a statement that we really did not need to see his hands or face to absorb the sound.  I would like to think it was the latter.  Overall, my festival was one of great expectations that were fulfilled by deep honest performances by artists of integrity.  That is why I love jazz.

Mary James

Reblogged: Brad Mehldau and Chris Thile in concert, April 2013

I’m pleased to add this to my blog as it reminds me of their gig at Wigmore Hall in Sept 2011 when Chris stunned the normally staid audience into whoops of delight! And Chris’s delight in performing without amplification was a joy too!

I’m pleased to add this to my blog as it reminds me of their gig at Wigmore Hall in Sept 2011 when Chris stunned the normally staid audience into whoops of delight! And Chris’s delight in performing without amplification was a joy too!

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Brad Mehldau Trio: Ode (Nonesuch) March 2012

OK, I am unashamed Brad Mehldau fan. From the moment I first heard him in 2001 at the Cheltenham Jazz Festival I was caught in his spell and it has never been broken. Ode is his latest album with Larry Grenadier and Jeff Ballard. We haven’t had a trio album from him since his 2006 live sets from The Village Vanguard, New York- the album called Live was released in 2008. I know a bit about this album – I was there for two of the sets and I still remember them very clearly. There was a lively mid-week audience of students and I’ll never forget the applause when they recognised Black Hole Sun and the young man who murmurred ” Aw…..Braa..dd…..” in a quiet bit (they left that version of this track out!). From Black Hole Sun to a heart stopping The Very Thought of You, to his anagram of his name ( Buddha Realm), in all cases you get intensity. Yes, we all come for an audience with Brad and we get an almost religious, mystical experience from his dense, cerebral performances, especially in small venues like Wigmore Hall and Village Vanguard.

You do get the impression that Brad is controlling and shaping his discography as carefully as Bill Evans did before him, and I guess that is not something most musicians can afford to do? His output is prolific – albums are rarely released in chronological order – so Ode was recorded in 2008 but has only now been released.

Ode consists of eleven original compositions. Not a single Radiohead, oh well never mind. Oh please record “Jigsaw falling into place” soon Brad. So it’s actually a pleasant surprise to listen to Ode and not feel wrung out emotionally, at least on many of the tracks. And the liner notes are easy to grasp! If you know Highway Rider you will recognise echoes of it but that’s hardly surprising as both were composed at the same time. Eulogy of George Hanson is probably closest to the intense Brad we know with a shimmering trembling piano.

My favourite track is Days of Dilbert Delaney. I love its gentle roll and sway. It’s Brad at his most relaxed with his signature right and left hand playing different tempos and all the time something bubbling underneath. This is joyous music with a delicate fade out.

Brad Mehldau and Chris Thile, Wigmore Hall, Sept 2011

Brad Mehldau’s gig with Chris Thile at Wigmore Hall in September 2011 will go down as one of my favourite nights at Wigmore Hall. My companion and I expected that a concert with a lute player would cover madrigals with a jazzy twist. Imagine our surprise when Chris Thile opened the gig with a rousing blue grass number, to whoops of delight from the back of the hall.  “Hey” we thought, ” They don’t sound like Brad fans”.  I think it was a night when Brad was slightly upstaged in a very good humoured way.