Irish Timeswriters review Moving Heartsat Vicar Street, By the Barrowat the Mill Theatre in Dundrum and My Brightest Diamondat Whelans.
Moving Hearts, Vicar Street, Dublin
A nervy Albert Niland proved a canny opener for Moving Hearts' much-anticipated reunion. The percussive force of his guitar and his languid lyricism, particularly on Spanish Heat, set him apart from so many other wannabes in that overcrowded anteroom of singer/songwriters. Niland's growing confidence reached full force on his daring, closing cover of Prince's Sign O' The Times. A definite appetite-whetter for his solo shows.
The anticipation was tangible across the room: Moving Hearts defined a time in many punters' lives when passions and politics ran high, and the sheer audacity of the band's arrangements were breathtaking. The Hearts were a many-headed beast, the bastard offspring of John Coltrane, Django Reinhardt, Steely Dan and Seamus Ennis. In hindsight, their own compositions were the equivalent of shooting heroin to a trad music audience: freewheeling, unpredictable, and utterly unfettered to convention.
If they were anxious, they displayed little of it on their opening reunion concert: the first of four consecutive gigs in a venue ideally suited to their blue-sky repertoire, with its gargantuan stage and ample vistas. They lumbered through their first few sets, not quite managing to build the momentum of two and a half decades ago, but still, when they launched headlong into McBrides, with Davy Spillane's pipes jousting with Keith Donald's soprano sax, they struck a collective nerve that bristled with delight at that unmistakeable sound: all syncopated, jazz-soaked rhythms and jostling elbows.
Fiddler Kevin Glackin (never a member of the original band) joined his regular compadre, Davy Spillane and brought an unexpected clarity to the arrangements. Spillane's own compositions, Fanore and Downtown were squeezed in alongside Hearts' own repertoire, but it was Lake Of Shadows that ultimately reignited the glorious electricity that defined the band's creative peak, their bass lines and electric guitar cosying up alongside sax, pipes and bouzouki as if they were lifetime bedfellows. Noel Eccles' percussion was particularly breathtaking on the wilful, attention-deficit- disordered set, The Lark.
Ultimately though, without a vocalist, the Hearts were missing a core part of their identity. The highly politicised commentary of Hiroshima Nagasaki and No Time For Love were a huge ingredient in the band's appeal, and leant their repertoire a shape that was missing this time out. Later, they lapsed into some indulgent prog trad on Ballinspittle Boogie that sounded flabby and dated amid the discipline of some of the band's earlier tune sets.
There's no denying Moving Hearts' influence on those who came later, from Dervish to Solas and Beoga. Still, they only managed to ignite the magic of old sporadically, a shadowy reminder of the best of times, and politically, the worst of times too. - Siobhán Long
By the Barrow, Mill Theatre, Dundrum, Dublin
This short play, written and directed by Darragh Kelly, is set in a bedsitter, in a small town beside the River Barrow. A woman has recently committed suicide, and her room is visited by her estranged husband, come to collect her belongings, and escorted by the house manager who refers to the blood-spattered bathroom. The story then flits back and forth, seeking to recreate the events leading up to her death.
Katie, who is pregnant, fled from Dublin to escape the violent and oppressive Shane, and is trying to start a new life. A policeman, he soon finds her and begins a relentless campaign to bring her home. He almost rapes her, deterred only by her fierce resistance, and gets her sacked from her new job. House manager Paddy acts the role of a friend, but is clearly interested in a more intimate relationship.
It soon becomes clear that the author, having created his three characters, is short of ideas on how to develop them. The married couple shout at each other continuously, mostly on the single note of whether or not Katie will return to her sadistic spouse. Paddy is revealed as having had an affair years before, with a young girl who was drowned in the Barrow. The plot thickens. It is a melodramatic graft on to a repetitive plot that already strains credulity. The downbeat ending underlines the general lack of real drama, stridency notwithstanding.
The acting is undermined by creative limitations in the writing, but Mary McEvoy, Padraig Denihan and Aidan Jordan tackle their roles head-on, eschewing any attempt at subtlety in favour of the raucous verbal collisions. It's probably the only way to go. - Gerry Colgan
Runs until Feb 17
My Brightest Diamond, Whelans, Dublin
My Brightest Diamond has a thing about Wonder Woman. On her website you'll find a photo of her kitted out in red and blue with white stars, a golden
W emblazoned across her chest. In a short film - which can be seen on YouTube - she describes her obsession as a child, the days spent spinning around in patent leather boots, a red star on her forehead. It's all part of a quirky childhood nostalgia that you'll find in many of her songs which have a sweet, dreamy edge and describe anything from watching a dragonfly to burying a robin in the garden.
On stage My Brightest Diamond - aka the indie singer songwriter Shara Worden (right) - is a curious a mix of playfulness and raw emotional intensity. Her vocal range is dazzling, brought out by the varying genres and influences in her music. At times she'll sing sweet, operatic ballads that remind you of Jeff Buckley or Kate Bush, croon like Bjork or growl and shout PJ Harvey style.
Dressed like a bumblebee in black and gold, her hair piled high into twists and curls, My Brightest Diamond opened with Feeling Good. Alternating her high, lonesome tones with occasional rushes from electric guitar and bluesy vocals, she produced a unique, rousing version of a song that has been covered so many times. During Golden Star and Freak Out, Worden was joined by drums and bass and let loose her rocky, wilder side and bounced around the stage. Other highlights were Disappear and The Good and the Bad Guy, both moody, evocative tunes about love.
Worden is at home on the stage, moving easily between guitars, keyboard, percussion and only later accompanied by drums and bass. Her commanding, powerful presence demonstrates a strong musical background - she recorded her first song when she was three, studied classical music and works as a voice coach. She has also played with indie superstar Sufjan Stevens. Above all, Worden revels in contrasts - one minute crooning into the mike, the soothing trills and rolls of her voice trickling over the crowd, the next stamping her foot, head shaking and guitar blazing. And it is this dynamic blend that makes My Brightest Diamond such an invigorating experience .- Sorcha Hamilton
