RECORD EXECUTIVES, EVEN THOSE WHO ARE RECOGNIZABLE on red carpets and in the society pages, are not usually beloved. They’re tolerated, mostly; respected, maybe; and feared, definitely. But they aren’t often the recipients of the kind of candied reverence designated for grandfathers and high school mentors.
Bruce Lundvall, whose resuscitation of Blue Note Records in 1984 began the apex of a nonpareil career, deserved adoration, and he got it, both during his lifetime and after it ended in May of this year, at age 79, following a battle with Parkinson’s disease. On Saturday, Oct. 3, at the jazz-steeped Saint Peter’s Church in Midtown Manhattan, Lundvall’s decades of musical service were honored with a lengthy yet brisk memorial concert, technically open to the public but wisely unpublicized. There were thoughtful, at…