On that April evening in 1961, in front of nearly 1,400 spectators gathered at the Glocke - one of Herbert von Karajan's favorite concert halls - the "mountain" Oscar Peterson sat down at his piano, accompanied by his two acolytes, Ray Brown, the "handsome bassist", as his admirers nicknamed him, and Ed Thigpen, one of the most sought-after drummers on the New York scene. Oscar Peterson was a brilliant alchemist, a sort of Pygmalion of himself, who was going to the end of his transformations. He knew how to magnify his mastery of swing, deepen his repertoire, renew himself without denying his nature, and thus award jazz its most magical letters of nobility.