It’s Juan-Les-Pins jazz festival’s half century celebration and it was the Keith Jarrett classic trio’s eleventh in a row here on Wednesday. Think of those Mingus and Miles At Antibes recordings; it’s where Ray Charles did his first ever European concert, and Coltrane performed for one occasion only, the entire suite of A Love Supreme in 1965, splitting the audience into ‘for’ and ‘against’.

This festival has history in abundance. It also has a breathtaking open air performing ambience: the sunset, pine trees and the French Riviera backdrop; as corny as a picture postcard but one that’s helped to find Juan-Les-Pins a special place in musicians’ hearts; and none more so than the notoriously fastidious Jarrett.

The concert was rightly classed as an ‘event’ especially as Jarrett-DeJohnette-Peacock is becoming a rare sighting on the international live circuit these days. A hush descends on the full 2,000-plus audience. He’s late showing, slow hand claps spread like a Mexican wave. But here come the band timed to perfection with the golden sun about to disappear behind the hills.

The first set is an hour of cool restraint and so justifiably is the audience applause. Thankfully, the second reveals they were merely loosening up, just feeling their way, conserving energy. It starts how it means to go on with a blistering ‘Night And Day’ with Jack DeJohnette brilliantly trading witty fours with the pianist. Likewise Gary Peacock’s bass playing is poetic, sprightly, immensely pleasurable on the ears, while it’s good to see Jarrett, back facing the audience, visibly perspiring through his shirt now in the warm night air.

The sound of lapping waves was the kind of backdrop agreeable to Jarrett and the trio whose extremely delicate, meditative balladeering, included an expressive first encore of ‘When I Fall In Love’.

If Jarrett looked a shade reluctant about doing another, when a stubborn standing ovation brought them out for the delicious, chugging R&B funk of their memorable version of ‘God Bless The Child’, it didn’t lack any enthusiasm whatsoever. It was about enough to send this insatiable crowd home happy.

— Selwyn Harris