Irish Times writers review Turin Brakes at the Rupert Guinness Theatre, Dublin, Barrie Cooke at the Fenton Gallery, Cork and Sandra Oman at the Bank of Ireland Arts Centre Dublin.
Turin Brakes
Rupert Guinness Theatre, Dublin
Brakes came straight out of leftfield Manchester a few years ago, introducing themselves with their superb album, The Optimist, which was subsequently Mercury-nominated in 2001. School friends Olly Knights and Gale Paridjanian brought a peculiar kind of folk music to the wide-eyed world, a mixture of their influences (Joni Mitchell, Leonard Cohen, Pink Floyd) and aesthetics (essentially cinematic).
In order to prepare for a full band tour when their new album is released early next year, Olly and Gale have set out on a rare-to-medium acoustic outing, playing smallish venues to a core audience. While it was clear that this new venue, on Watling Street, near the Guinness Storehouse, played havoc with Turin Brakes's sensibilities (Olly: "I feel as if I've been beamed in from another planet"), they nevertheless managed to overcome niggling problems with a smart, short set full of melody, a little strangeness and lots of charm.
Songs from the new album formed the basis of the set: these included Stone, Long Distance, Average Man and Fallin' Down; gracious music performed with a minimum of instrumental fuss with a backdrop of screened, rustic images. Tracks from The Optimist were played as an extra sweetener - including The Door and Underdog (Save Me) - but it's to the band's credit that if these songs hadn't been played they wouldn't have been too sorely missed.
Currently pitched somewhere between pin-sharp Ry Cooder, thoughtful singer/songwriter fare and languid Pink Floyd, Turin Brakes's individual brand of UK folk/psychedelia is a virtuous, unassuming one. It mightn't have the epic scope of, for example, Coldplay, but it's infinitely warmer. Music for the cold nights ahead.
Tony Clayton-Lea
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Barrie Cooke
Fenton Gallery, Cork
The reasons why Barrie Cooke is regarded as one of Ireland's most prominent and respected artists is due in some measure to his repertoire of accessible imagery, his confident and lively use of colour and, above all, his ability to create exciting painted surfaces. These facets are consistently evident across this selection of work, ranging from the mid-1990s to the present.
Cooke is a devout observer, looking into the characteristics of his subjects and using these as his inspiration or starting point.
But the act of looking never imposes itself too much on the final artwork, as his stylisation or expressive interpretation always comes to the fore. A prime example is Tree Fern I, where bold dramatic sweeps of the brush establish the central form of the painting, with a background colour of luminous salmon pink distorting logical space, pushing the image tantalising close to abstraction.
Wider landscape views feature quite prominently with many painted in exotic locations. Karamea River at Dusk is one such scene, with verdant mountains sweeping dramatically downwards to the riverbank. All this is painted with such daring economy that the imagery takes time to process - step back and the impression says as much as any photograph.
The Irish landscapes are no less impressive. Lough Arrow Algae, Fish again has a stirring evocation of place, but also shows other sides to Cooke's paintings. Specifically, we see his ability to imbue a symbolic suggestion through the beautifully speckled green surface on the Lough, as well as the wonderfully caricatured fish, with intense, living eyes. Runs until October 9th
Mark Ewart
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Sandra Oman (sporano), Mairead Hurley (piano)
Bank of Ireland Arts Centre, Dublin
5 songsRichard Strauss
2 songs Duparc
3 songs Novello
What kind of figure does Novello cut in the company of Strauss and Duparc? With Waltz of my Heart, My dearest Dear and We'll gather Lilacs? The answer has to be that his brand of populism remains in a limbo between music hall and recital room, and though Sandra Oman sang with plenty of passion, she left one wondering why she had chosen to espouse such second rate stuff.
Fortunately, her talents appeared in a better light in the major part of her lunchtime recital in the Bank of Ireland Arts Centre.
She brought to Strauss's Die Nacht, Schlechtes Wetter, Wiegenlied, Zueignung and Allerseelen a poise and restraint that gave these songs a sense of freshness and innocence that they seldom attain, well-known as they are.
In Duparc's Le manoir de Rosemonde she perhaps underlined the emotions too forcibly; a line like "comme un chien l'amour m'a mordu" just need to be stated; the pain and the urgency of the lover's quest is adequately conveyed in the masterful rhythms of the piano part, well played by Mairead Hurley.
Duparc's Chanson triste was quite seductive in its curving vocal line, and the singer, here as elsewhere, was eager to communicate the message of the words.
Douglas Sealy
