That's it - my Belgian sojourn is over and I'm back "home" in Delft in the Netherlands. Normally home should mean Athens where I've spent most of my life but, after 6 years away, it almost feels alien to me. Not because of the duration of my absence but of the way everything back in the Greece has turned around in the last years. From my point of view the country is hardly recognizable: The austerity program imposed by IMF and EU has demolished both economy (deep recession and unemployment) and democracy (laws and government acts must be validated by technocrats operating without accountability on a strict neo-liberal agenda). The leftist government elected last year with an anti-austerity mandate resisted for 6 months before submitting to naked force and blackmail. Now the dominant feeling is one of resignation, desperation and anger. The country I left behind was not rich, but people weren't scavenging the dubsters for food. Nazis were laughed at or chased away, not elected in the parliament. I now feel more at home at quiet old Delft with its medieval buildings, beautiful canals and the most square and conservative students I've ever seen.
Anyway, during my last week in Brussels I got to visit the city's grandly named Palais de Beaux Arts, which people have been pronouncing boz' ar' for so long it had to finally embrace the name change. Inside, though, it's still the typical baroque old European concert hall. Hardly the place for pop concerts but then harpist/singer/songwriter Joanna Newsom isn't your average pop star. Though a star she certainly is, the darling of photographers and film directors who love to tap into her slightly kooky fairytale personna. And while I read in a recent interview that she hates being referred to in those terms, she surely acts and dresses the part. Record covers like this don't help too: whose idea was it to dress like the daughter of druid Panoramix posing for a Botticelli portrait? Her dress in last week's concert was no exception, although these days she looks less elvish maiden and more fairy godmother. As for her music, in the beginning it was associated with the so-called freak folk movement and artists like Devendra Banhart and Vetiver, but it really is sui generis. For once, she must be the only modern artist using the harp as a lead instrument (she also played some piano in the concert). Her harp playing style is highly personal, neither classical nor Celtic or African, and her songs are often overlong and experimental. As for her voice - let's just call it unusual. Analogies with Bjork have been employed as to her singing style, which may not be an exact description but is a fair comparison. Like Bjork, you'll either love her voice or hate it, probably the latter.
Or you'll eventually embrace it, because that is the voice that goes with these songs - dreamy, childlike and idiosyncratic just like the music and lyrics. In the concert she sang with abandon, at times abruptly raising her voice, not caring about the odd bum note. Here she is more restrained, although the vocal emphasis is always on emotion rather than technique. It's telling that her vocal and harp were recorded by Steve Albini, an indie producer with a grounded sound vérité approach, only to be dressed with exquisite orchestrations by Van Dyke Parks, famous for the pop symphonies he produced for The Beach Boys. Strings and oboes abound, lending the music a lush symphonic feel. Lyrics are intricate and integral to the song. I guess we needn't ask the eternal question to songwriters, whether they write music or lyrics first. They most certainly pre-existed as poems or even short stories. An analysis would take forever, so I'll just post a link to a website dedicated to that purpose. Opener "Emily" is about her (astrophysicist) sister of the same name, combining shared personal memories and references to celestial bodies. An intricate, almost progressive, 12-minute piece it nevertheless is probably the most accessible and popular track of the record and even provided one of the highlights in the Brussels concert 10 years later. "Monkey & Bear" features Bjork-ish vocals and playful classical arrangements, as befits a fable populated by woodland creatures. "Sawdust & Diamonds" is slower and more understated and "Only Skin" a long poem filled with ingenious wordplay. The music follows many twists and turns, like a mini-symphony consisting of many parts. Closer "Cosmia" is (at 7+ minutes!) the shortest track here, relatively upbeat with supreme harp playing.
Anyway, during my last week in Brussels I got to visit the city's grandly named Palais de Beaux Arts, which people have been pronouncing boz' ar' for so long it had to finally embrace the name change. Inside, though, it's still the typical baroque old European concert hall. Hardly the place for pop concerts but then harpist/singer/songwriter Joanna Newsom isn't your average pop star. Though a star she certainly is, the darling of photographers and film directors who love to tap into her slightly kooky fairytale personna. And while I read in a recent interview that she hates being referred to in those terms, she surely acts and dresses the part. Record covers like this don't help too: whose idea was it to dress like the daughter of druid Panoramix posing for a Botticelli portrait? Her dress in last week's concert was no exception, although these days she looks less elvish maiden and more fairy godmother. As for her music, in the beginning it was associated with the so-called freak folk movement and artists like Devendra Banhart and Vetiver, but it really is sui generis. For once, she must be the only modern artist using the harp as a lead instrument (she also played some piano in the concert). Her harp playing style is highly personal, neither classical nor Celtic or African, and her songs are often overlong and experimental. As for her voice - let's just call it unusual. Analogies with Bjork have been employed as to her singing style, which may not be an exact description but is a fair comparison. Like Bjork, you'll either love her voice or hate it, probably the latter.
Or you'll eventually embrace it, because that is the voice that goes with these songs - dreamy, childlike and idiosyncratic just like the music and lyrics. In the concert she sang with abandon, at times abruptly raising her voice, not caring about the odd bum note. Here she is more restrained, although the vocal emphasis is always on emotion rather than technique. It's telling that her vocal and harp were recorded by Steve Albini, an indie producer with a grounded sound vérité approach, only to be dressed with exquisite orchestrations by Van Dyke Parks, famous for the pop symphonies he produced for The Beach Boys. Strings and oboes abound, lending the music a lush symphonic feel. Lyrics are intricate and integral to the song. I guess we needn't ask the eternal question to songwriters, whether they write music or lyrics first. They most certainly pre-existed as poems or even short stories. An analysis would take forever, so I'll just post a link to a website dedicated to that purpose. Opener "Emily" is about her (astrophysicist) sister of the same name, combining shared personal memories and references to celestial bodies. An intricate, almost progressive, 12-minute piece it nevertheless is probably the most accessible and popular track of the record and even provided one of the highlights in the Brussels concert 10 years later. "Monkey & Bear" features Bjork-ish vocals and playful classical arrangements, as befits a fable populated by woodland creatures. "Sawdust & Diamonds" is slower and more understated and "Only Skin" a long poem filled with ingenious wordplay. The music follows many twists and turns, like a mini-symphony consisting of many parts. Closer "Cosmia" is (at 7+ minutes!) the shortest track here, relatively upbeat with supreme harp playing. |
| Newsom and band at the Bozar, Brussels 24/2/2016 |
Although Newsom comes from the alternative rock scene and is often categorized as folk, "Ys" (incidentally, the name of a lost Atlantis-like city of Celtic myths) is closer to progressive rock or even classical music in its grand scope and ambition. She'd later follow it with (another ambitious feat) a triple CD of more conventional songs drawing from jazz, pop and appalachian folk. It's perhaps best she didn't try to duplicate Ys's sound, allowing it to stand alone as a quixotic gesture and hyperbolic monument that'll forever polarize opinions. In any case, she continues to be a wonderfully eccentric, romantic and creative female figure in the tradition of Kate Bush and Tori Amos. May she stay in the clouds forever!
***** for Emily, Cosmia
**** for Monkey & Bear, Sawdust & Diamonds, Only Skin
