Silvie and I drove down to Portland on Friday the 5th to see Antony & the Johnsons in concert with the Oregon Symphony. This is one of a handful of dates with various symphonies (music arranged by composer Nico Muhly) scheduled worldwide, and one of only three in the States. The venue was the Arlene Schnitzer Concert Hall in downtown, with a capacity of 2,800. It was nearly sold out.
I love Antony. His voice is one of a kind: soulful and lilting, absolutely transporting. He writes songs that explore the dark and sorrowful places, searching there for the hidden light of hope and love, and embracing it. His music incorporates strings often, and so the concept of this show was not so strange; yet the combination of a full symphony, the Johnsons scattered among them, with Antony’s captivating and beautiful voice, was just sublime beyond my already high expectations.
That voice was the star of an evening which opened with Antony taking the still-dark stage in front of a closed curtain, to sing a gorgeous version of the Angelo Badalamenti-David Lynch song “Mysteries of Love.” The show unfolded slowly, petal by petal, as the curtain was drawn during the second song to reveal the symphony, though they were still partially obscured by a veil-like screen. This screen was raised during a subsequent number, and the musicians were all visible, as well as conductor Gregory Vajda. Antony spoke not a word to the crowd the entire evening, and little time was spent between songs, which included material from the album “I Am A Bird Now” as well as new songs (and even a heart-felt cover of Beyonce’s “Crazy in Love,” which drew the most vocal response from the crowd).
Indeed, the audience sat hushed and absorbed through each song, only to erupt in applause after each number. There was a sense in that hall that this music could elevate the soul beyond the everyday into a rarefied air; the strings, the piano, the singer and the rapt audience drawn up together into a wondrous, ethereal space. Antony, wrapped in a gossamer grey cloth like a figure from a renaissance painting, gestured with his arms, at one point pulling his hands to his chest, then flicking his fingers outward in a repeated motion that seemed to illustrate the outpouring of emotion from his heart, through this haunting and achingly beautiful music, to the world.
I love Antony. His voice is one of a kind: soulful and lilting, absolutely transporting. He writes songs that explore the dark and sorrowful places, searching there for the hidden light of hope and love, and embracing it. His music incorporates strings often, and so the concept of this show was not so strange; yet the combination of a full symphony, the Johnsons scattered among them, with Antony’s captivating and beautiful voice, was just sublime beyond my already high expectations.
That voice was the star of an evening which opened with Antony taking the still-dark stage in front of a closed curtain, to sing a gorgeous version of the Angelo Badalamenti-David Lynch song “Mysteries of Love.” The show unfolded slowly, petal by petal, as the curtain was drawn during the second song to reveal the symphony, though they were still partially obscured by a veil-like screen. This screen was raised during a subsequent number, and the musicians were all visible, as well as conductor Gregory Vajda. Antony spoke not a word to the crowd the entire evening, and little time was spent between songs, which included material from the album “I Am A Bird Now” as well as new songs (and even a heart-felt cover of Beyonce’s “Crazy in Love,” which drew the most vocal response from the crowd).
Indeed, the audience sat hushed and absorbed through each song, only to erupt in applause after each number. There was a sense in that hall that this music could elevate the soul beyond the everyday into a rarefied air; the strings, the piano, the singer and the rapt audience drawn up together into a wondrous, ethereal space. Antony, wrapped in a gossamer grey cloth like a figure from a renaissance painting, gestured with his arms, at one point pulling his hands to his chest, then flicking his fingers outward in a repeated motion that seemed to illustrate the outpouring of emotion from his heart, through this haunting and achingly beautiful music, to the world.
Here is a link to a Pitchfork article with some pics from the evening.
