I’ve learned a lot about the much-under appreciated pianist Denny Zeitlin in the past week: That he maintains a nearly full-time psychiatry practice in San Francisco; that he was active in acoustic/electronic fusion in the 70s; that he has performed with the likes of Herbie Hancock, Pat Metheny, Marian McPartland, and Paul Winter. And most important, perhaps, he has more fingers than the rest of us. At least I am pretty sure there were at least 20 digits in action during his dazzling show at the Dakota last night. And that isn’t counting the contributing appendages of bassist Buster Williams or drummer Matt Wilson.

While lightning flashed down Nicollet Mall ahead of the downpour, another tempest raged inside, with electrifying power surges, rolling thunder, clattering hail, and shimmering rain. To the keyboard, Zeitlin brings the percussive technical control of Oscar Peterson, the artistic abandon of Keith Jarret, and the elegant voice of Bill Evans, all turned inside out in delightfully re-invented standards and alarmingly original compositions. As High Fidelity noted, “he can rip the keyboard apart or coax the most delicate nuances,” observed this evening with his double-handed arpeggio runs and sleight-of-hand tinkling. As on many of the standards played this evening, “The Night Has a Thousand Eyes” but Zeitlin’s renditions tell a thousand tales as scraps of other melodies whiz by, giving each head a dozen faces.

His jet propulsion laboratory incites his partners as well: I have long enjoyed and frequently heard revered bassist Buster Williams, but he has never been more engaging than in the company of Zeitlin and Wilson. You had to look carefully to see if he was using the bow or just that invisible sustain pedal as he sent out wave after wave of deep vibrato; his glissando magic provided a fine mesh of connective tissue among the three voices throughout the evening. And his opening solo on the late set finale (David Friesen’s “Signs and Wonders”) was a master class in ambidextrous chording.

This was my first chance to see Matt Wilson in action, and what action! With even more body language than most drummers, Wilson has a wide ranging human and technical arsenal at his disposal, and he uses it all, from wood to metal sticks, from wire brushes and strings of wood “shells” to the air currents passing through his fluttering hands, literally all the “bells and whistles” that can be whacked, thunked, jingled, even dropped on the floor. He seems to merely give a cymbal a certain look to coax just the right sound.

As a collaborative trio, the group was burning all evening, but never with more fire and invention than on Zeitlin’s “Slickrock,” the title tune of his new recording (MaxJazz). Inspired by the incredible feats of mountain bikers he encountered in Utah’s canyonlands, Zeitlin has created a sonic palette of similarly acrobatic maneuvers. Striking and plucking the strings with mallets and fingers, he turned the piano into an effective percussion section, creating an eerie, celestial introduction to an abstract symphonic poem. He was aided and abetted by popping arco attacks from Williams, and Wilson’s menagerie of simultaneously clamoring chains, fluttering wood flute, and foot-propelled shells.

If “Slickrock” left the first set crowd breathless, it’s difficult to single out other highlights. Ballads, including Zeitlin’s own “Quiet Now” and “Body and Soul,” received elegant twists; standards such as Shorter’s “ESP” and Coltrane’s “Mr P.C.” were presented as marvelous reconstructions, while Williams’ chorded ostinato on “You and the Night and the Music” was simply hypnotic.

As thunder rumbled across the Twin Cities an hour after the final set, I could still hear and feel the reverberations from this incendiary ensemble. We’ve had enough rain for the season already, but more storms from the Denny Zeitlin Trio should be in our forecast.