REVIEWS

Reviews of Allen Toussaint at Whelan's in Dublin and Devin, RTÉ NSO/Cavanagh, NCH, Dublin

Allen Toussaint

Whelan’s, Dublin

For a first-time visitor to Dublin, Allen Toussaint made himself right at home behind his magnificent grand piano for a hot, sweaty night of music. He figured that (Hurricane) Katrina’s been “quite a booking agent” for him and for countless other New Orleans musicians, and even if his expectations of Dublin had been shaped by old John Wayne movies (imagine that), Mister Toussaint found the coolest, most sensual groove in the city without ever even needing to break a sweat.

Toussaint is a musician whose repertoire many have encountered by way of cover versions or via his eclectic collaborations. Who would have guessed it was Toussaint who wrote the Glen Campbell hit Southern Nights? Or that everyone from The Band to Jerry Garcia, Bonnie Raitt and The Doors have taken a piece of the Toussaint songwriting action? Monday night, he revelled in a delicious cross- breed of blues, soul, funk and divine jazz piano lines that sat easefully on his 71-year-old shoulders. From his no- nonsense delivery of There's A Party Goin' Onto the Mississippi-seeped Brickyard Blues,Toussaint honoured the ghost of Professor Longhair, conjured fond memories of Dr John and welcomed us all on to his front porch for a night not to be forgotten.

He figured that without Katrina, he’d still be at home “eating shrimp and po’ boys”, but somehow one suspects that fate was on our side when it lured this genteel man across the Atlantic so that we could bask in his virtuoso piano and wallow in his swamp blues as if we were native Louisianians long versed in the musical delights of New Orleans’ and its French Quarter.

Taking tinctures from his latest album, The Bright Mississippi(but without any taster from his Elvis Costello collaboration, River In Reverse), and with divine detours around Workin' In A Coalmine, Tipitina, Good At Goodbyeand the sensual Sweet Touch Of Love, Allen Toussaint took us on a memorable journey through the bayous and backwaters of his home place – a joyous escape that many would have loved to cling to long after the lights came up. SIOBHÁN LONG

Devin, RTÉ NSO/Cavanagh

NCH, Dublin

Guest conductor James Cavanagh's prudent direction of the RTÉ National Symphony Orchestra had its returns in some spit-and-polish tidiness. The blazing fanfares that set off Suppé's Light Cavalry Overturecould hardly have been more cleanly executed. What followed, however, suggested the pomp and circumstance of a formal military parade rather than the high charge of an engagement.

Circumspection was extended to the Barcarollefrom Offenbach's Tales of Hoffmannand Johann Strauss II's Emperor Waltzes, which would have kept a ball-gown swishing safely at ankle height. It was thus in the more lyrical moments of Bizet's Carmen Suite No 1that the music-making best suited the music. Astute balance, an easy flow, and delectable woodwind solos made for an Intermezzoof much charm.

Zest came courtesy of Irish soprano soloist Anna Devin, who recently made her Glyndebourne debut in Purcell's Fairy Queenunder baroque maestro William Christie.

Clarity of tone, as opposed to clarity of diction, is her current strength, and there was plenty of colour on display in the waltz-song Je veux vivrefrom Gounod's Romeo and Juliet. Two pathos-laden opera numbers by Mozart (Pamina's aria from The Magic Flute) and Verdi (Gilda's aria from Rigoletto) came off with silvery concentration and single-minded atmosphere – the latter item helped by Cavanagh's sensitively relaxed accompaniment.

The fullest range of Devin's prowess, however, was revealed in the three short minutes of Ravel's wordless Vocalise-étude en forme de Habanera. In its understated vocal gymnastics were fine articulation, seamless legato, adroit textural contrast, and many a knowing nuance. ANDREW JOHNSTONE