Beirut
7 out of 10 - Enjoyable.
Monday, September 24, 2007
New York Society for Ethical Culture
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The Wordless Music series, now in its second season, has an admirable objective behind its programming — to suggest that indie, electronic and free jazz artists have more in common with the classical music tradition than one might think and effectively break down the barriers between uptown and downtown mindsets. Opening eyes of new audiences is both appealing and idealistic, an experience anyone might find when trying to introduce favorite music to a friend. So it’s unsurprising that the September 24th show, like many of the Wordless presentations, resembled any Bowery Ballroom show in terms of anticipation and crowd: young people came to see the headliner.
This audience sat quietly and attentively, sometimes captivated by the otherworldly constructions of French multi-instrumentalist Colleen, sometimes polite through the classical portion of piano and violin, and even a bit wooden at first for Beirut. After sitting in pew-like benches at the NY Society for Ethical Culture for a long time, we can’t really be blamed for having forgotten that we have limbs.
Beirut delivered a fun set with jokey, loose stage demeanors, despite the slightly paralyzed energy from the audience, who gradually warmed up their hands with applause and voices with singing, finally standing to dance and clap for the two encores — a lively Romanian reel and crowd favorite, “Postcards from Italy.” Songs from the new album The Flying Club Cup — which included “Nantes,” “In the Mausoleum,” the hot air balloon journey evoking title track, and “A Sunday Smile” with an attempted sing-along chorus — were solid. These, too, provided that scruffy party thrill that Beirut’s brand of music elicits live, and will only get better with time.
Zach Condon’s foggy voice has evolved more and more to resemble his trumpet — it’s stronger, more confident and wavery, and sounded great. The venue, not very large and often used for classical chamber music concerts, seemed to naturally magnify the band’s volume, especially the brass and excellent percussion. In terms of balance though, the acoustics too often dropped out Kristin Ferebee’s violin, a detail that should be prominent for the Flying Club Cup songs and its chanson française nostalgia.
The evening opened with Colleen (real name, Cécile Schott), one of the first artists that the series’ founder, Ronen Givony, had in mind. She was a charming one-woman band equipped with wind chimes and music box and played everything from a viola da gamba (a fretted, six-string relative of the cello), clarinet, and guitar. She isn’t expertly skilled on them, but the way she constructs her atmospheric, dreamy music with the loop pedal focuses your attention on the sounds themselves, as if deconstructing and reconstructing them for quite beautiful results. Colleen’s music transported us to pensive scenes, whether a windy field or a ghostly music box or sunlight on a terrace, and while some of her set didn’t come across as evocatively live as on record, songs like “I’ll Read You A Story” and “Sea of Tranquility” led to intangible realms. She’ll be opening for Beirut for the first leg of their tour.
Chopin’s lulling, wistful Berceuse was a good transition piece from Colleen’s quiet set. Katya Mihailova’s texture on the piano came across slightly mousey and muddy — it could have been the acoustics or where I was sitting — but Scriabin’s Prelude for the left hand was sturdier and more expressive (and off the sheet music). Violinist Colin Jacobsen is clearly a talented violinist and has a bit of personality to him. He rather took over the stage after joining Mihailova for a pretty Debussy piece, which seemed entirely out of place. Pärt’s Fratres, a moody, austere piece reminiscent of blue, empty snow-covered lands, was another connection back to Colleen’s mood; the duo got some of that color even though as a whole, the piece was somewhat stop-and-go. They ended their set with Bartók’s Six Romanian Folk Dances, which sort of got into the Balkan mood of Beirut, but the last dance’s “jam” with some members of Beirut was awkward and awkward-sounding à la high school holiday concert. No thanks.
As much as I admire the idea of these concerts and enjoyed the individual performances, this particular night didn’t come together as a whole. Beirut, whose music always brings to mind boozy rowdiness and sentimentality, seemed rather underserved by the venue and format on this occasion. And as much as I’m a fan of that band, why introduce music with words to a series called “wordless”? If there was a point to that, I missed it. In the classical realm, a concert’s programming in terms of structure and flow is important, and that focus could greatly enhance these types of evenings. I suspect that Givony cannot make connections all the time by cherry-picking his performers, whether indie and more so classical who’d have to have just the right repertoire ready to fit the sounds of their counterparts. Still, the evening could have been much more of a journey, and in regards to the Wordless mission statement, a stronger argument.
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