For six days the sun shone down on gracious Cheltenham and the air vibrated to jazz music of more shades than you'll find in the largest box of Lakeland colour pencils.
Its final day, May Monday, provided in itself an illustration of just how many different languages now comprise this music (some universal, others seemingly understood by only a few).
The day started in the Town Hall's Pillar Room with the kind of education-linked project that makes Cheltenham special.
This one placed New Yorker Bobby Previte, one of the festival's artists in residence, facing a band of Birmingham Conservatoire students. Not only did he have his drum kit with him, but the music he had chosen to reinterpret with the students was Miles Davis's Bitches Brew.
There's a sign of the times for us - the dark and wild electric jazzrock of the late 60s has replaced Autumn Leaves and Satin Doll as the jazz standard of the 21st century.
The students rose to the challenge with focussed enthusiasm, revealing the passion and urgency of youth to match Previte's protean energy.
There was more energy and a creative embracing of technology over at the Everyman Theatre for an afternoon performance by the Joshua Redman Elastic Band.
The saxophonist showed his extraordinary facility on his instrument and then extended its range with various effects pedals, while former Chick Corea drummer Jeff Ballard pushed hard and keyboard wizard Sam Yahel played rock-solid bass lines with his left hand even when soloing with his right.
This was jazz which built on sounds and styles from Bitches Brew-era Miles through the funk sounds of the 70s while also sounding fresh and new.
Over in the Town Hall the house full signs were up for Herbie Hancock and a new quartet which leaned heavily on Lionel Loueke's gentle African guitar and the leader's own Apple Mac sound sculpting.
The chance to hear the great man was clearly too strong too resist but, solid as Hancock's performance was, the better ticket was the Enrico Rava Quintet at the Everyman.
One satisfied listener called it "music for grown-ups". There was a quiet and mature delight to be gained here from relaxing into some of the loveliest and most lithe acoustic jazz to be heard anywhere.
Meanwhile if there had been more thrash metal kids around they would have had their hearts gladdened at the Subtone club where Bobby Previte's trio, The Beta Popes, were stretching the ears -and patience - of the jazz audience with an hour of unremitting aural assault.
All jazz life was indeed here.