Brad Mehldau (photo by Hilary Scott)
Brad Mehldau sat sideways on the piano bench, facing the now-almost-dry crowd at Ozawa Hall. He’d just bewitched us with a singular reading of Lennon & McCartney’s “Blackbird,” and was recounting the music that had come previously unannounced. “Before that, we had… umm, we had…”
“‘My Favorite Things,'” some of us offered helpfully.
“‘My Favorite Things,'” he repeated quickly, smiling at his own temporary amnesia. It couldn’t be called a “senior moment”: Although only in his forties, Mehldau is considered one of the greatest keyboardists of his generation. The thing is, his solos tend to turn into one long, winding train of colorful, expressive thought, so since he’s the one “driving” the train, it makes sense that he might not remember all the scenery that had gone past his brainpan’s front window.