Strategically configured to a theatre setting in order to offset the less than expected audience figures, there’s little point comparing this show to that of the previous female occupant of the O2 stage a couple of weeks ago – Beyonce.
Where Mrs Carter played a costume-changing blinder, Alicia Keys takes the bling factor down a notch or three; where Mrs Carter bangs out arena anthems, Alicia Keys sits at her piano and caresses tunes out of it. Truth is, the venue is too big for someone as subtle and soulful as Keys, and while many of her songs hit the mark emotionally (and musically) it’s quite obvious that she doesn’t have the ego or the inclination to needlessly impress with fireworks, displays of athleticism, arty/party frocks or theatrical props. This was an old-school display (ala 70s soul and Motown) of how things were done before arena shows were held hostage by Cirque du Soleil-style trappings.
She began with the words "New York" and ended it with Empire State of Mind (which featured hip-hop star Jay-Z on a filmed backdrop), but that's the sum and substance of the Beyonce connection – everything in-between was Keys and Keys alone. Leaving aside the occasional lacklustre interpretive dance moves from a male quartet and Keys's clearly rehearsed between-song self-help advice (based thematically around her latest album, Girl on Fire , via which, she says, she wished to liberate and empower her predominantly female audience), this was a show designed to highlight how good a songwriter and singer Keys is.
That it most certainly did; soul/pop songs as fine as Brand New Me, Not Even the King, Listen to your Heart, You Don't Know my Name, Like You'll Never see me Again, A Woman's Worth, Fallin' and Girl on Fire were delivered with no small levels of grace, modesty and panache.
As an arena show, it never really took flight. Focus just on Alicia Keys, however, sitting at her piano, as she delivers superlative soul songs, and you’ve got a show that soars.