Tony Clayton-Lea saw Guns 'N' Roses in the RDS Arena, Siobhan Long saw Mark Knopfler and Emmylou Harris at the Point Theatre, Christine Madden was at Dulsori in the Mermaid Arts Centre in Bray and Michael Dungan saw guitarists John Feeley and Berta Rojas at the Royal College of Surgeons in Dublin
Guns 'N' Roses
RDS Arena
Lots of eye-popping fireworks and drizzling showers of bright lights don't always equal a damp squib of a gig, but in the case of the rejuvenated Guns 'N'Roses (aka Axl Rose and a group of anonymous identikit dog-rough rock musicians you'd be hard pressed to pick out in a line-up) this was just the case.
Rose hasn't been to Ireland since the early 1990s Slane Castle gig; the original band rocked like a mother (as they say in Co Meath). This lot of make-do types made a great play at going through the motions as they careened through the hits - opening shot Welcome to the Jungle, Sweet Child o' Mine, Live and Let Die, Patience, November Rain, Knockin' on Heaven's Door, You Could Be Mine, Yesterdays and closer Paradise City. In between the hits were some new untitled songs that drifted close to mind numbing parody, some determinedly duff G'N'R tracks that epitomised a new kind of laziness in live show pacing, and far too many perplexing musical interludes and doodles that allowed Axl Rose to venture backstage for "hits" of oxygen (this is not to be construed as a euphemism).
You can excuse the occasional music fodder that acts employ as unappealing filling between the bread'n'butter songs - with very few exceptions, bands rarely have at their disposal an arsenal of non-stop hits - but the way in which Rose chose to undermine the potentially thrilling momentum of a wham-bang-thank-you-ma'am set bordered on the sadistic. They did, for example, a brilliant rendition of Sweet Child o' Mine, and instead of going for a double or triple whammy allowed the gig to deflate via the equivalent of radio land's greatest fear - dead air.
This went on throughout the two-hour-plus concert, a would-be rollercoaster with more troughs than peaks. In the end, the sense of expectation had been given the middle finger. Shooting mostly blanks, their petals wilting before your very eyes and ears - Guns 'N'Roses and Axl Rose (a lacklustre frontman despite his fresh air) might be back, but it appears not to be for the true benefit of the fans.
Tony Clayton-Lea
Mark Knopfler and Emmylou Harris
Point Theatre
Theirs is a partnership that some have dared compare with Johnny Cash and June Carter. But Emmylou Harris and Mark Knopfler have saddled up a pony that's an altogether different breed. And while their album, All The Roadrunning may not quite be a piebald, it certainly isn't the thoroughbred so beloved of Johnny and June either.
There's a velveteen quality to the percussion, a somnolence to the pace and a downright predictability to Harris and Knopfler's repertoire. Of course Harris's vocals soar skywards as they always do; and yes, Knopfler's guitar licks are as (admittedly) pristine as ever, but the pair together somehow manage to dilute rather than distil their combined talents so that what you're left with is a brew that's far from heady, but so immaculately packaged all the same.
Knopfler's flatline vocals have never quite caught this punter's imagination (apart from a brief teen flirtation with Romeo And Juliet, which went no further than to prove that every schoolgirl's a sucker for that hoary Montague/Capulet chestnut). His pulse rose perceptibly for a spirited reading of Belle Star and So Far Away but for the most part, Knopfler meandered through his own back catalogue and their joint songs with all the purposefulness of a dead man walking.
Harris's solo material was as luminous as ever, with Red Dirt Girl and Michelangelo stark reminders of her exceptional lyricism, despite her exceptionally belated foray into songwriting. The band of fine musicians (including Dire Straits percussionist Danny Cummings) offered a solid support, but at times we longed for a Buddy Miller presence to shake it all up - just a little.
This was a night that reeked of a cosy cartel, with Harris's appetite for grace and danger carefully suppressed. A disappointingly safe coalition.
Siobhan Long
Dulsori
Mermaid Arts Centre, Bray
Can drumming make you happy? The voice-over early into the Dulsori drummers' performance announced that Dulsori has come from Korea to share the secret of happiness that we can find in drumming, and that our clapping will give us more energy. Judging by audience reaction, it works.
Once the five Dulsori drummers assembled in front of the stage curtains, they coaxed the sluggish crowd into participation with almost glaring enthusiasm. It might have worked better had they parted the curtains, though, as the array of different kinds of traditional drums and percussion instruments drew admiring gasps from the audience. They began the actual performance with smoothly synchronised beating of drums the size of American refrigerators, using sticks resembling rolling pins and throwing their bodies and lively energy into the mix.
Another section of the performance included a man in traditional dress who seemed at first to be miming behind a silk screen brought out to span the stage. His tai-chi-like movement morphed to include a large staff, with which he dramatically began to paint on the screen. Abstract lines suddenly transformed into a pair of tropical birds, then into what looked like a profile of Sigmund Freud and a couple of totems. In a later segment, the performers mirrored the atmosphere of a thunderstorm, as they made their drums mutter and grumble, only to interrupt with claps of heavy booming blows.
The performers' uncontainable energy sparked over into the audience when they led them to join in, teaching them a rhythmic traditional song and encouraging them to clap with the beat. They then herded everyone outside for a conga-like finale in the balmy June evening - perhaps a mistake on their part, because everyone was having such a great time, the audience were reluctant to let the performers finish and leave, and the drummers were surrounded and outnumbered.
Unfortunately, the lack of information available, not to mention a programme, inhibited more profound understanding - and possibly enjoyment - of the performance. It would have been helpful and interesting to know more about the performers, their instruments and their artistic tradition.
Christine Madden
John Feeley, Berta Rojas (guitars)
Royal College of Surgeons, Dublin
Argentinian composer Quique Sinesi laced his short piece for solo guitar Open Sky ("Cielo abierto") with jazz harmonies, hints of bandoneon, and some advanced techniques, including the slapping of colourful Latin rhythms on the side of the casing with one hand while the other continues to play the strings.
These features distinguished it from the rest of the programme in Friday night's recital - part of the Festival of Music in Great Irish Houses - by guitarists John Feeley and Berta Rojas. It was the lone work by a living composer and, judging from the warm reception it received after Rojas's lively performance, the audience appeared ready for more.
Not this time. This was a recital that gently insisted on rather closed, intimate parameters of dynamics (I can recall only one really loud chord in the entire evening), of utterance, and of style (Spanish and Spanish-influenced). The players were as much as asking us to accept their boundaries and to seek out the detail contained within.
Rojas included the Sinesi piece in her solo slot in which she also played La catedral by fellow Paraguayan Agustín Barrios, a vivid, three-movement evocation of the tranquil interior and bustling surrounds of the cathedral of San José in Montevideo.
In the Fantaisie Op 54 bis, Ireland's leading guitarist John Feeley sampled the mix of Catalan colour and conservatory training of Fernando Sor, a near-contemporary of Beethoven. Feeley also played his own arrangements of four dance movements from the Suite Española for piano solo by Albeniz, each one a small miracle of instrumental translation.
When they played together, the two complemented each other's differing styles: Rojas more open and physical, Feeley generating all his expressivity from within. The mix proved equally engaging both in movements from Granados's Danzas Españolas - again ingeniously arranged from the piano originals by Feeley - and in lighter Brazilian music of the 20th century by Gnattali, Jobim (of The girl from Ipanema fame), Vianna and Nazareth.
Michael Dungan
