Reviews

Irish Timeswriters listen to God is an Astronaut at the Tripod, Dublin, and Focus on Opera at the National Concert Hall.

God is an Astronaut

Tripod, Dublin

God is an Astronaut might hail from the Glen of the Downs, but their music has the texture of outer-space debris. While they share the same wavelength as Mogwai and Explosions in the Sky, the potency and discipline in the playing sets them apart from the post-rock masses and although Mogwai rarely leave the distortion pedals untouched, God is an Astronaut are happier building up background textures with electronics. The result is compelling, emotionally charged music.

Live, each song is complemented by its own film, usually historical war footage or grainy space-exploration video. These are pieced together into a jarring, powerful reel that pulses with the same pace as the music, and together they make fluid, living, breathing performance pieces. Most of the crowd barely look at the band; all eyes are riveted on the screen, with the music filling in the space where a script should be. These are not simply songs; they are bold, striking narratives and, while the themes might be familiar, the message is fresh and incisive.

Drummer Lloyd Hanney plays with jazzman-like fluidity and composure, frontman Torsten Kinsella wrestles with his guitar and electronic array of tricks with glacial calm, and bass player Niels Kinsella can turn a musical phrase on a sixpence. This is only a three-piece band, but they fill the warehouse-sized space of Tripod with electronic waves of melody, pulsing riffs and syncopated blocks of rhythm, all doused with bursts of noise, like short radio messages gone astray, fizzling and crackling as they try to leap from one satellite to the next. Tracks such as Far from Refuge, Suicide by Starand Radaurun the gamut of emotions between lush organic musicianship and soaring, adrenaline-fuelled electronic flight.

The only glitch - and it is a mere blip on the graph - is that because they use many pre-recorded elements, there is a lack of spontaneity, with no improvised crescendos allowed to ride out their energy that haven't previously taken shape in the rehearsal room. But to play music this well, and with such effectiveness, is an achievement. - Laurence Mackin

Focus on Opera

National Concert Hall

Large ensembles dominated the programme of the Culwick Choral Society's concert at the NCH on Saturday, given in aid of Focus Ireland.

The 90-strong choir, in which the women outnumbered the men by almost three to one, participated in long, loud and unbalanced excerpts from Lucia di Lammermoor, Cavalleria rusticanaand Aida, all sung in English. These were offset by a handful of solos and a performance of the final scene from Purcell's Dido and Aeneasthat offered the only distinguished music-making of the evening.

After an eloquent account of Dido's farewell by mezzo Edel O'Brien, the gentle closing lament enabled the choir to justify its reputation as one of Dublin's premier choral ensembles. That Purcell scene was enhanced by the pseudo-harpsichord accompaniment of David Bremner, whose electronic keyboard was elsewhere combined with Mairéad Hurley on piano and Tristan Russcher at the console of the NCH's organ.

Apart from uncertain tuning, a problem that also affected some of the vocal soloists, particularly in ensemble, the odd combination of instruments created an overall irritating buzz, as well as some peculiar percussive thumps.

Of the six principal singers involved, only the aforementioned O'Brien and soprano Sandra Oman impressed. O'Brien delivered a weighty if stolid "Una voce poco fa" from Rossini's Barbiere; Oman gave a moving account of Mimi's Act One aria from La Bohèmeand soared lyrically in the Lucia sextet.

But the soprano was over-parted in the Easter hymn from Mascagni's opera and ran out of steam towards the end of the taxing Aidaensemble.

The concert was conducted by Colin Block, making his final appearance with the Culwick, and introduced by Sen David Norris, whose witty if not always accurate links were effusively delivered, but far too long. - John Allen