REVIEWS

The Irish Timesjournalists review the latest in the arts

New York Polyphony

St Nicholas of Myra Church, Dublin

The vocal quartet New York Polyphony finished its debut, three-stop Irish tour at St Nicholas of Myra Church on Dublin's Francis Street.

The all-male group (counter tenor Geoffrey Williams, tenor Geoffrey Silver, baritone Scott Dispensa and bass baritone Craig Phillips) offered a programme that ranged from the 15th century to the 21st.

They covered what Geoffrey Williams's programme notes called "hardcore polyphony: dense textures, elaborate imitation, and passionate vocal writing" (in connection with William Cornysh) as well as Italian madrigals ("instant gratification in both sound and sentiment"). And they were happy to plunder and adapt ("pare down") repertoire written for more voices and richer sonorities than they could muster - Poulenc's Quatre petites prières de Saint François d'Assise were interspersed between the evening's other offerings.

This polished ensemble opened with a burdened account of Byrd's Ave verum corpus, where the singers found moments that were like piercing shards in the passing dissonances.

The opening Poulenc motet, Salut, Dame Sainte, strained credibility and technique, but the later instalments were altogether more persuasive.

Among the earliest items Cornysh's Ave Maria Mater Dei impressed through the angular partnership of the two lower voices, and John Taverner's Magnificat was notable for its repeated, full-voiced swelling forth, always rich and firm.

There was a generous early-music flavour in the most recent works, pieces by the Oslo-based English composer Andrew Smith, who blended the medieval and the new in his Flos regalis (where the effect was austere) and Veni Redemptor Gentium (where the touch was light).

The singers sounded at their impressive best in the group of madrigals by Festa, Patavino and Arcadelt, traversing moods of ease, earnestness, assertion and quiet fulfilment, as if documenting the trials and tribulations of love through music were the most natural thing in the world.

MICHAEL DERVAN

Primal Scream

The Olympia Theatre, Dublin

There comes a stage in the life of any band when they must balance the inexorable march towards middle age with the inevitable yearning to keep doing what they were doing when they were young and vital.

Accomplishing that tricky task can ultimately mean the difference between a burnished reputation or slipping into embarrassing dotage.

Certain bands and singers make the transition so effortlessly that the listener is barely aware of the challenge. Watching Primal Scream amble through this performance, however, was a powerful reminder of how difficult growing old gracefully can be.

Bobby Gillespie and his band undoubtedly created some of the most defining music of the 1990s, particularly the beloved Screamadelica, and their blistering display in this venue while supporting the Vanishing Pointalbum was a rock'n'roll masterclass. This show, however, was a torpid impression of their glory days.

For much of the gig, Gillespie was so lethargic he appeared sedated, eventually rousing himself when the Scream-team moved on to their old classics, such as Movin' On Up and Rocks, and the crowd began to respond in kind.

Both bassist Mani and guitarist Andrew Innes looked typically laid-back, but for long stretches the show was crying out for some exuberance.

They tried to compensate for their lack of energy with a bewilderingly loud sound, as if a bone-jarring, nostril-flaring bass could alone pass for enthusiasm.

Ultimately, though, it was apparent that Primal Scream have gone the way of the Manic Street Preachers and Ian Brown - once essential acts that have left their relevance and credibility somewhere in the past, when the praise was loud and sustained.

It is worth comparing the sloppy, disaffected performance with an altogether more accomplished display of musicianship from an Irish band in Whelan's the same night. Ian I Brow might have an awkward monicker, but their brand of funk is an irrepressible sight, effortlessly demonstrating how to win over an audience.

Watching them rouse an early-week Whelan's crowd was a stirring reminder that bands don't have to affect insouciance to appear cool.

Gillespie and his cohorts could learn a thing or two.

DAVIN O'DWYER