Amazing five-star review of Brad Mehldau and Anne Sofie von Otter at the Wigmore Hall... first Naïve release in September 2010!

The Financial Times ★★★★★

Brad Mehldau closed the opening season of his two-year curatorship of the Wigmore Hall’s first jazz series with a two-concert flourish. The jazz content of his duet with the formidably voiced Swedish mezzo-soprano Anne Sofie von Otter was more flavouring than main dish, as a romantic classical first set was balanced by a contemporary second half. But two days later, Mehldau’s solo piano recital delivered trenchant jazz, albeit with a composer’s logic.

Von Otter was the focus of the first concert, wringing emotion from each syllable of lyrics that sounded life-changing when she sang them. Mehldau impressed for adjusting touch and timbre for first-half readings of Brahms, Fauré and Richard Strauss, and bringing out the influence on jazz pianists today of Sibelius’s sparse rhythmic pedals.

The second set opened with a selection from Mehldau’s song cycle Love Songs. His composed settings of Sara Teasdale’s poems had all the Mehldau hallmarks – closely argued chords, subtly altered motifs and a light pulse – and when combined with von Otter’s voice were the highlight of the evening. The pianist then revealed his jazz chops while von Otter applied full operatic measure to Lennon and McCartney, the American Songbook, “Windmills of my Mind” – sounding surprisingly profound when sung in French – and a sprightly double encore.

Mehldau’s second recital was a breathtaking solo performance that took full advantage of the Wigmore’s pin-drop acoustics. The set was bookended by themes from his orchestral album Highway Rider – the arpeggiated central motif to start, the sombre “Old West” to finish – but mostly stuck to the songbook repertoire. Each theme launched improvisations that tugged at meter and key. A fast and chirpy “Get Happy” developed a wayward bass line and did strange things to the tempo while sticking strictly to the underlying form, and “My Favorite Things” climaxed with a thunderous rumble.

Mehldau’s pathways verged on the abstract and even bluesy interjections resolved in odd places, though a lone bass note signposted the original theme. His fifth encore was “Waterloo Sunset”, and then he had to do “one more for playing Ray Davies and the Kinks”. The evening ended in a shimmering chordal wash.

By Mike Hobart

You can also read the review here.