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Great concert week in DC with the Mac, Mika and Cameron Carpenter

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Mika on stage in Washington Wednesday at the Sixth & I Synagogue. (Blade photo by Joey DiGuglielmo)

Mika on stage in Washington Wednesday at the Sixth & I Synagogue. (Blade photo by Joey DiGuglielmo)

It was a great week for live music in Washington — Fleetwood Mac brought its “Tour 2013” to the Verizon Center Tuesday night, out pop singer Mika brought his acoustic show to the Sixth & I Synagogue Wednesday night and on Friday, queer organist Cameron Carpenter made his Washington-area debut at the Strathmore in Bethesda. The proceedings were stellar all around — I’ll dissect chronologically.

Many, many years of following various pop and rock acts has brought me to the realization that so many acts sort of “train” their audiences what to expect and the Mac is a perfect example. Its members — namesake rhythm section Mick Fleetwood and John McVie along with singer/songwriters Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham — talk in interviews as if they’re dutifully restricted from mixing things up too much because even with longtime songstress Christine McVie long gone (only one of her songs was performed — the chestnut “Don’t Stop”), they still have a truckload of ground they feel obligated to cover with songs like “Second Hand News,” “The Chain,” “Dreams,” “Rhiannon,” “Go Your Own Way” and the list goes on and on.

Thankfully the Mac — touring a second consecutive time now without a new album out — is throwing in a few surprises. Nicks has revived the long-dormant “Tusk” track “Sisters of the Moon” for the first time since the “Mirage Tour” in the early ’80s. There’s also one all-new track (“Sad Angel”) Buckingham says is slated for an imminent EP and the ancient-but-never-released song “Without You,” a ballad that featured perhaps the loveliest Buckingham/Nicks harmonies of the evening.

Except for some very anti-Mac-like remix-type looping touches brought into “World Turning,” the arrangements were tried and true. Nobody could argue the Mac doesn’t know how to give the masses what they want. Which can be a little disappointing for the die hards who go hear them every time they tour. Or even the more casual fans who tend to be more musically adventurous. Though many of the suggestions thrown about are utterly absurd — Thomas Conner’s naive op-ed in the Chicago Sun-Times last week is a great example — I could have gone for maybe 10 percent more adventure. A good starting point would have been “Soldier’s Angel,” the haunting duet Buckingham joined Nicks on for her brilliant 2011 album “In Your Dreams.”

With some acts — Madonna for one — you know you’re not going to hear every hit every tour. The Mac has never been like this, yet a few more unexpected moments would keep them a notch or two further away from the “cashing in/gravy train” bandwagon they’re clearly on. If you think for a second this is about the music and not the money, recall the arm twisting it took to get Nicks to agree to this. There was a well-publicized ballyhoo in 2012 when Fleetwood whined in a Playboy interview that he doubted the Mac would ever tour again when Nicks insisted on giving her solo album another year of touring. It was so wildly overstated that here they are on tour the very next year.  (Nicks said later three years — and she’s right — feels like a good amount of time to go between Mac tours.)

Fleetwood Mac on stage at the Verizon Center Tuesday night. (Blade photo by Joey DiGuglielmo)

Fleetwood Mac on stage at the Verizon Center Tuesday night. (Blade photo by Joey DiGuglielmo)

While the band has been more about money than music for eons, I will say a few quick things: one, the music at Tuesday night’s show was scary good. Nicks, though she doesn’t scream and growl as she used to, has developed into a very solid singer. There wasn’t one off-pitch sound that came from her mouth the whole night. And Buckingham’s guitar work was as great as it has ever been. If there’s one upside to the lack of Mac recordings in the last 10 years or so, it’s that Buckingham’s solo career has soared off in the other direction with a trio of masterfully conceived and executed solo albums (2006’s “Under the Skin,” 2008’s “Gift of Screws” and 2011’s “Seeds We Sow”).

Given the way the Internet has decimated album sales — especially new work from veteran acts — one can hardly argue with their “let’s just tour” approach. Still nobody seemed to notice the irony of the situation when Buckingham spoke about not wanting to run something that worked (“Rumours”) into the ground when it came time to make “Tusk.” Sadly now the band is doing almost exactly that — touring clearly works (I’ve never seen the Verizon Center so packed and on a weeknight no less) so why be bothered with doing a new album? While the night was great fun, the reality that the Mac seems highly uninterested in doing much beyond trudging out the staples — Nicks is the chief foot dragger — lent the proceedings a bittersweet air.

And why can’t we all just agree to let Christine McVie do what she wants? Legions of the Mac faithful seem to be holding out hope that she’ll one day rejoin them for one last outing. While yeah, that would be cool for “old time’s sake” (McVie said recently she would consider joining them on stage in London if they ask her later this year), they’ve already done that. Why do we need another “The Dance”-type outing (the name of a ’97 reunion tour with the classic lineup), especially if McVie’s heart is not in it? I would feel differently if they’d never done “The Dance,” but since they have, it’s time for everybody to move on.

Mika’s show the next night was an interesting study in contrasts — from a veteran band reliving its glory days to a young singer (he’s 29) only on his third album playing a small, atmosphere-heavy synagogue (it’s actually a great concert spot — much more music-friendly than the much-lauded 9:30 Club) with a throng of young fans at fever-pitch excitement throughout the evening. Touring behind his near-masterpiece album of last fall “Origin of Love,” the obscenely talented popster poured his passionately creamy falsetto-hued vocals and drivingly percussive piano playing through a nearly two-hour set that was the furthest thing from phoned in you could imagine.

Working with a tight two-man band — players who seemed to grab any instrument of the dozens on stage they could quickly get their hands on — Mika radically reinvented several songs from their studio versions (a ballad version of dance cut “Stardust” from the new album was perhaps the most radical), led several all-out audience sing-alongs (and the crowd knew every word) on “Grace Kelly,” “Love Today” and “Celebrate” among others, and even stepped away from the mic for nearly two full numbers just to savor the acoustics — which are stellar — of the venue. All were show-stopping in the best way.

Mika truly has it all — killer voice, great songwriter, solid musical chops and just-left-enough-of-center looks and charm to never be mistaken for a “Bachelor” contestant. He’s sort of our queer Justin Timberlake — with a much better current album out too, by the way.

Switching gears radically was Cameron Carpenter’s organ recital Friday night which, despite a few logistical head scratchers (more on that in a sec), was a musical accomplishment of Herculean, truly other-worldly proportions. Watching and hearing him play is much akin to the scene in the classic “Outer Limits”  episode (“The Sixth Finger”) in which a scientist figures out a way to push evolution ahead a million years and suddenly the protagonist can play Bach he just picked up. Carpenter is almost in that league, having been something of a child prodigy who claims to have mastered “The Well-Tempered Clavier” in adolescence.

Cameron Carpenter at the Strathmore Friday night. (Blade photo by Joey DiGuglielmo)

Cameron Carpenter at the Strathmore Friday night. (Blade photo by Joey DiGuglielmo)

The first oddity was why Carpenter — with all the amazing pipe organs in Washington — was at the organ-less Strathmore at all. Playing an electronic Rodgers three manual brought in just for the occasion, Carpenter got more sonic contrast out of the thing than probably anybody else could have, but from the massive instrument at the National Cathedral, the new pipe organ at the Kennedy Center (where he’s rumored to be playing next year sometime) or even the glorious five-manual behemoth at National City Christian Church in Thomas Circle (which could just about have housed the somewhat disappointing turnout — of the Strathmore’s three balconies, only the lowest one was about half-full; the upper two sat empty), it seemed just plain dumb to have him there. It could be a harbinger of things to come — Carpenter’s most insistent recurring theme is his endless frustration at having to adapt to a different organ for each town he plays. Let’s hope whatever touring instrument he ends up with — he says it’s almost finished — has a little more sonic heft than the Rodgers. Which sounded OK — I’m not trashing it altogether. One could clearly tell, though, that it was a sound coming from speakers, not pipes.

That said, what Carpenter did with it was beyond staggering. His musical instincts — as sharp and deadly as Wolverine’s knife claws — are in a league of their own among organists, at least to my knowledge. He plays with a pianistic-like virtuosity that’s stunning to watch (a screen above him amplified his finger work). Often playing two manuals simultaneously with one hand, leap-frogging between the choir, great and swell like an Olympic sprinter and displaying the most nimble pedal work I’ve ever seen, Carpenter truly is a talent for the ages. Granted, the Rodgers had a minimal number of stops it appeared — it looked like a child’s toy compared to, say, the National City console — yet Carpenter changed registrations like most people blink. One five-minute improvisation he played featured more than 40 registration changes. That amount of tone painting just through stop changes was impressive in and of itself, forget about the actual note playing.

His wildly eclectic 100-odd minute show (played entirely from memory) featured everything from Bach works written for organ, transcribed for piano, then adapted back to organ (by Carpenter), two Liszt Transcendental Etudes he said were “nearly impossible to play,” a wickedly playful transcription of Bernstein’s “Candide” Overture and a playful encore/fantasia on — of all things — “Shortnin’ Bread,” a whimsical-but-no-less-dramatic way to end the evening. The highlights for me were a moody and languid — yet endlessly colorful — transcription of Isaac Albeniz’s piano work “Evocacion” (the first movement from “Iberia”) and a fantastically creative Marcel Dupre arrangement of a French Noel that Carpenter tackled in a deliciously subversive way, nearly matching the macabre wit Dupre brought to it originally.

Though nearly as night and day as one could fathom, all three shows were utterly magical and evenings I will never forget.

Fleetwood Mac’s set:

1. Second Hand News

2. The Chain

3. Dreams

4. Sad Angel

5. Rhiannon

6. Not That Funny

7. Tusk

8. Sisters of the Moon

9. Sara

10. Big Love

11. Landslide

12. Never Going Back Again

13. Without You

14. Gypsy

15. Eyes of the World

16. Gold Dust

17. So Afraid

18. Stand Back

19. Go Your Own Way

ENCORE

20. World Turning

21. Don’t Stop

ENCORE 2

22. Silver Springs

23. Say Goodbye

Mika’s set:

1. Grace Kelly

2. Toy Boy

3. Lollipop

4. Blue Eyes

5. Billy Brown

6. Popular

7. Love You When I’m Drunk

8. Underwater

9. Stuck in the Middle

10. Emily

11. Big Girls

12. Origin of Love

13. Happy Ending

14. Lola

15. Relax, Take it Easy

16. Stardust

17. Celebrate

18. Love Today

19. Over My Shoulder

Cameron Carpenter’s set:

1. Bach — Prelude 1 from “Well Tempered Clavier”/Fugue No. 15 in G Major

2. Bach/Busoni — Cello Suite No. 1

3. Bach — Fantasia and Fugue in G Minor

4. Albeniz — Evocacion from Iberia

5. Dupre — Variations on a Noel

6. Liszt — Feux Follets

7. Liszt — La Campanella

INTERMISSION

8. Bernstein — Candide Overture

9. Ives — The Alcotts from Concord Sonata

10. Improv

11. Improv

ENCORE

12. Chopin — Minute Waltz

13. Shortnin’ Bread

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Photos

PHOTOS: ‘ICE Out For Good’

Demonstrators protest ICE across country following shooting

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D.C. shadow representative Oye Owolewa speaks at a rally outside of the White House on Saturday, Jan. 10. (Washington Blade photo by Michael Key)

A protest was held outside of the White House on Saturday following the killing of Renee Nicole Good by a U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement agent in Minneapolis. Across the Potomac, picketers held signs calling for “Justice for Renee” in Tysons, Va.

“ICE Out For Good” demonstrations were held in cities and towns across the country, according to multiple reports. A march was held yesterday in Washington, D.C., as the Blade reported. Further demonstrations are planned for tomorrow.

(Washington Blade photos by Michael Key)

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Books

Feminist fiction fans will love ‘Bog Queen’

A wonderful tale of druids, warriors, scheming kings, and a scientist

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(Book cover image courtesy of Bloomsbury)

‘Bog Queen’
By Anna North
c.2025, Bloomsbury
$28.99/288 pages

Consider: lost and found.

The first one is miserable – whatever you need or want is gone, maybe for good. The second one can be joyful, a celebration of great relief and a reminder to look in the same spot next time you need that which you first lost. Loss hurts. But as in the new novel, “Bog Queen” by Anna North, discovery isn’t always without pain.

He’d always stuck to the story.

In 1961, or so he claimed, Isabel Navarro argued with her husband, as they had many times. At one point, she stalked out. Done. Gone, but there was always doubt – and now it seemed he’d been lying for decades: when peat cutters discovered the body of a young woman near his home in northwest England, Navarro finally admitted that he’d killed Isabel and dumped her corpse into a bog.

Officials prepared to charge him.

But again, that doubt. The body, as forensic anthropologist Agnes Lundstrom discovered rather quickly, was not that of Isabel. This bog woman had nearly healed wounds and her head showed old skull fractures. Her skin glowed yellow from decaying moss that her body had steeped in. No, the corpse in the bog was not from a half-century ago.

She was roughly 2,000 years old.

But who was the woman from the bog? Knowing more about her would’ve been a nice distraction for Agnes; she’d left America to move to England, left her father and a man she might have loved once, with the hope that her life could be different. She disliked solitude but she felt awkward around people, including the environmental activists, politicians, and others surrounding the discovery of the Iron Age corpse.

Was the woman beloved? Agnes could tell that she’d obviously been well cared-for, and relatively healthy despite the injuries she’d sustained. If there were any artifacts left in the bog, Agnes would have the answers she wanted. If only Isabel’s family, the activists, and authorities could come together and grant her more time.

Fortunately, that’s what you get inside “Bog Queen”: time, spanning from the Iron Age and the story of a young, inexperienced druid who’s hoping to forge ties with a southern kingdom; to 2018, the year in which the modern portion of this book is set.

Yes, you get both.

Yes, you’ll devour them.

Taking parts of a true story, author Anna North spins a wonderful tale of druids, vengeful warriors, scheming kings, and a scientist who’s as much of a genius as she is a nerd. The tale of the two women swings back and forth between chapters and eras, mixed with female strength and twenty-first century concerns. Even better, these perfectly mixed parts are occasionally joined by a third entity that adds a delicious note of darkness, as if whatever happens can be erased in a moment.

Nah, don’t even think about resisting.

If you’re a fan of feminist fiction, science, or novels featuring kings, druids, and Celtic history, don’t wait. “Bog Queen” is your book. Look. You’ll be glad you found it.

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Movies

A Shakespearean tragedy comes to life in exquisite ‘Hamnet’

Chloe Zhao’s devastating movie a touchstone for the ages

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Jessie Buckley and Paul Mescal in ‘Hamnet.’ (Image courtesy of Focus Features)

For every person who adores Shakespeare, there are probably a dozen more who wonder why.

We get it; his plays and poems, composed in a past when the predominant worldview was built around beliefs and ideologies that now feel as antiquated as the blend of poetry and prose in which he wrote them, can easily feel tied to social mores that are in direct opposition to our own, often reflecting the classist, sexist, and racist patriarchal dogma that continues to plague our world today. Why, then, should we still be so enthralled with him?

The answer to that question might be more eloquently expressed by Chloe Zhao’s “Hamnet” – now in wide release and already a winner in this year’s barely begun awards season – than through any explanation we could offer.

Adapted from the novel by Maggie O’Farrell (who co-wrote the screenplay with Zhao), it focuses its narrative on the relationship between Will Shakespeare (Paul Mescal) and his wife Agnes Hathaway (Jessie Buckley), who meet when the future playwright – working to pay off a debt for his abusive father – is still just a tutor helping the children of well-to-do families learn Latin. Enamored from afar at first sight, he woos his way into her life, and, convincing both of their families to approve the match (after she becomes pregnant with their first child), becomes her husband. More children follow – including Hamnet (Jacobi Jupe), a “surprise” twin boy to their second daughter – but, recognizing Will’s passion for writing and his frustration at being unable to follow it, Agnes encourages him to travel to London in order to immerse himself in his ambitions.

As the years go by, Agnes – aided by her mother-in-law (Emily Watson) and guided by the nature-centric pagan wisdom of her own deceased mother – raises the children while her husband, miles away, builds a successful career as the city’s most popular playwright. But when an outbreak of bubonic plague results in the death of 11-year-old Hamnet in Will’s absence, an emotional wedge is driven between them – especially when Agnes receives word that her husband’s latest play, titled “Hamlet,” an interchangeable equivalent to the name of their dead son, is about to debut on the London stage.

There is nothing, save the bare details of circumstance around the Shakespeare family, that can be called factual about the narrative told in “Hamnet.” Records of Shakespeare’s private life are sparse and short on context, largely limited to civic notations of fact – birth, marriage, and death announcements, legal documents, and other general records – that leave plenty of space in which to speculate about the personal nuance such mundane details might imply. What is known is that the Shakespeares lost their son, probably to plague, and that “Hamlet” – a play dominated by expressions of grief and existential musings about life and death – was written over the course of the next five years. Shakespearean scholars have filled in the blanks, and it’s hard to argue with their assumptions about the influence young Hamnet’s tragic death likely had over the creation of his father’s masterwork. What human being would not be haunted by such an event, and how could any artist could avoid channeling its impact into their work, not just for a time but for forever after?

In their screenplay, O’Farrell and Zhao imagine an Agnes Shakespeare (most records refer to her as “Anne” but her father’s will uses the name “Agnes”) who stands apart from the conventions of her town, born of a “wild woman” in the woods and raised in ancient traditions of mysticism and nature magic before being adopted into her well-off family, who presents a worthy match and an intellectual equal for the brilliantly passionate creator responsible for some of Western Civilization’s most enduring tales. They imagine a courtship that would have defied the customs of the time and a relationship that feels almost modern, grounded in a love and mutual respect that’s a far cry from most popular notions of what a 16th-century marriage might look like. More than that, they imagine that the devastating loss of a child – even in a time when the mortality rate for children was high – might create a rift between two parents who can only process their grief alone. And despite the fact that almost none of what O’Farrell and Zhao present to us can be seen, at best, as anything other than informed speculation, it all feels devastatingly true.

That’s the quality that “Hamnet” shares with the ever-popular Will Shakespeare; though it takes us into a past that feels as alien to us as if it took place upon a different planet, it evokes a connection to the simple experience of being human, which cuts through the differences in context. Just as the kings, heroes, and fools of Shakespeare’s plays express and embody the same emotional experiences that shape our own mundane modern lives, the film’s portrayal of these two real-life people torn apart by personal tragedy speaks directly to our own shared sense of loss – and it does so with an eloquence that, like Shakespeare’s, emerges from the story to make it feel as palpable as if their grief was our own.

Yes, the writing and direction – each bringing a powerfully feminine “voice” to the story – are key to the emotional impact of “Hamnet,” but it’s the performances of its stars that carry it to us. Mescal, once more proving himself a master at embodying the kind of vulnerable masculine tenderness that’s capable of melting our hearts, gives us an accessible Shakespeare, driven perhaps by a spark of genius yet deeply grounded in the tangible humanity that underscores the “everyman” sensibility that informs the man’s plays. But it’s Buckley’s movie, by a wide margin, and her bold, fierce, and deeply affecting performance gives voice to a powerful grief, a cry against the injustice and cruelty of what we fumblingly call “fate” that resonates deep within us and carries our own grief, over losses we’ve had and losses we know are yet to come, along with her on the journey to catharsis.

That’s the word – “catharsis” – that defines why Shakespeare (and by extension, “Hamnet”) still holds such power over the imagination of our human race all these centuries later. The circumstantial details of his stories, wrapped up in ancient ideologies that still haunt our cultural imagination, fall away in the face of the raw expression of humanity to which his characters give voice. When Hamlet asks “to be or not to be?,” he is not an old-world Danish Prince contemplating revenge against a traitor who murdered his father; he is Shakespeare himself, pondering the essential mystery of life and death, and he is us, too.

Likewise, the Agnes Shakespeare of “Hamnet” (masterfully enacted by Buckley) embodies all our own sorrows – past and future, real and imagined – and connects them to the well of human emotion from which we all must drink; it’s more powerful than we expect, and more cleansing than we imagine, and it makes Zhao’s exquisitely devastating movie into a touchstone for the ages.

We can’t presume to speak for Shakespeare, but we are pretty sure he would be pleased.

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