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Vivid Live - May 28
Sufjan Stevens, Bryce Dessner and Nico Muhly play “Planetarium.”
A glowing orb (or “intergalactic piñata,” as composer Nico Muhly would have you believe), with projections of light and colour representing the celestial bodies of our solar system, was just the beginning.
Commissioned in part by Vivid Live Sydney to run at the Concert hall at the Opera House, Sufjan Stevens, Bryce Dessner, and Nico Muhly - acclaimed musicians in their own right - delivered a collaboration called “Planetarium.”
Each of the artists had a chance to showcase individual string compositions performed by the Orava String Quartet. While the men were backstage, the quartet moved through Diacritical Marks by Nico Muhly, to the three-part Chinese zodiac inspired arrangement Run Rabbit Run by Sufjan Stevens, and finally back to the fierce, dark and bold work of Dessner’s called Aheym before a brief intermission.
Neptune, a calming instrumental piece, was the first planet to introduce itself via the three men plus string quartet and trombone section.
The cycle varied from an almost ethereal whimsy to a harsh electronic frenzy. Stevens adopted autotune heavily into a number of the arrangements, which coupled with the classical sounds of the orchestra at times created real discomfort - and an exercise in feeling so.
All bases were covered. A Martian odyssey. An ode to Venus. We were convinced that Jupiter is the loneliest planet. That Earth is the “greatest” planet. And were engaged by lyrics that compelled, condemned and confused were no less than we expected from the voice that was singing them.
As a move the men called “controversial” (with a laugh), Pluto was included in this celestial discovery, a mellow, beautiful tune materialised, etching a respect in at least a small part of the solar system for the planet that was, (or still may be.)
Mercury, the final planet chosen for the evening, took the audience through what felt like an innocent expression of self for Stevens, before the strings and trombones added the drive and motive behind the music. It became a swift and motivating arrangement that could only be described as truly beautiful, telling, curious and satisfying.
The night wrapped with an encore, a full-length version of Neptune complete with Stevens’ vocals, before a humble walk off stage to a rousing applause.
The evening was definitively unique, and perhaps fundamentally hindered by any spectator’s account. The works needed to be heard, seen and digested by ear and eye to be able to truly experience how every element complimented the next. The greatest gift is to be left with thoughts, questions, and the faith that if there are performances like these, then possibilities are endless in both music and the universe.
(c) Carrie Dennes -
Harvest Festival
Parramatta Park 13/11/11Tucked away in a corner of Parramatta lies a park, largely undiscovered by even seasoned festival attendees until last weekend. For a day and a night on a beautiful Sunday in spring this park was transformed into a sprawling haven for music lovers . A paradise…despite the mid-strength beer.
Organised by the same folks famous for Soundwave Festival, Harvest was pitted as, and fulfilled the role of, something that could fill the empty space of touring festivals gone or built upon before it. This one catered for a crowd of hipsters, hippies, and a general hybrid of misfits.
Matt Berninger, complete with his trademark suit and bottle of red wine, approached the stage with The National who not so long ago gained huge momentum in Australia with their latest album High Violet. This, coupled with their previous album Boxer, made up the majority of the set. The band, composed of two sets of brothers and Berninger (plus a ring-in horn section), are well-versed in performance. And it shows. Songs like ‘Fake Empire’, which introduces the audience to some beautiful lyrics followed by a seamless emotive tempo change, to the fiesty ‘Squalor Victoria’ in which Berninger’s moody baritone howls like a banshee set the scene. The famed ‘Bloodbuzz Ohio’ – perhaps their breakthrough single for High Violet – introduces the listener to a fast-paced tune with anthemic lyrics which one is obliged to shout right along with the singer (“I still owe money to the money, to the money I owe.”)
As a performer, the frontman is curious. He holds the mic with both hands like a security blanket and hardly speaks between songs, looking up shyly then the next minute throwing the microphone down and darting around the stage. In the last song (‘Terrible Love’) Berninger jumped into the crowd as fans would be accustomed to. He just didn’t resurface as the song ended. The band left the stage and Berninger stayed in the audience with fans for a couple of minutes before reemerging then exiting front of stage right – much to the relief of security but the disappointment of punters.
For those who then ran to see Wayne Coyne and the infamous Flaming Lips, they were shepherded to the far back by an overzealous bunch of security guards. The crowd became restless as the “Flips” set-up and soundcheck seemed to be taking a little longer than anticipated. For whatever reason, a slow clap began until the band members entered the stage via a giant flashing vagina (there really is no better way to explain it) and Coyne appeared in his signature human bubble.
For a band that’s been around for close to 30 years, you can forgive a little self-centredness. There were arms raised and “come ons” thrown out into the crowd, urging everyone to “go crazy” several times. While the audience tried to oblige you could sense Coyne’s frustration as punters were obviously giving all they could but it still wasn’t enough, which in turn, was frustrating punters. Cue giant balloons released into the crowd and their famous over the top antics including confetti cannons and a full visual spectacular and the rhythm seemed to pick up. Not to mention the general regression of the audience to about five years old when the balloons appeared. It’s foolproof, really.
Despite the delay and the seemingly bad press this week insinuating diva-like behaviour and requests for long soundchecks and no noise spill from other bands, the anticipation for Portishead’s long-awaited return to Sydney was palpable. People packed in and around the stage as far as the eye could see in a blissful haze of alcohol, cool relief from sunburn and wafts of celebratory joints.
No person could ever accuse Beth Gibbons, Portishead frontwoman, of being timid after seeing her perform live. She encompasses the sultry and the sexy, the heartbroken and the lover scorned, as well as the fiery anthemic activist. The band provides the soundtrack which thrusts a wall of beats and electronic sound at the audience and forces a bassline that pounds in the gut – all pitch perfect with crystal clear sound. A heartwrenching acoustic rendition of ‘Wandering Star’ (“Please can you stay awhile, share my grief…”), a wildly applauded rendition of their infamous ‘Glory Box,’ a soulful plea in her encore with ‘Roads’ (“Can’t anybody see, we’ve got a war to fight”) and a fiery finish with ‘We Carry On’ left the crowd wanting, yet satisfied.
Harvest was a breath of fresh air for the Sydney festival scene. With minimal teething problems, a friendly crowd, brilliant music and an easy to navigate setup, let’s hope that the “civilised gathering” they touted will return.
Carrie Dennes (c) 2011
