Reviewed: Hercules and Love Affairand Per Arne Glorvigen
Hercules and Love Affair
Academy, Dublin
Despite the over-sized disco ball, there is no confusing Dublin's Academy with the excessive Studio 54, and the constant queue for the bar means it will never have the underground aesthetic of the Loft, but the latest disco/dance revivalists, Hercules and Love Affair, did their bit to recreate the atmosphere of 1970s New York club culture.
Months before HLA arrived on our shores, this gig had already courted controversy. Several weeks after tickets went on sale for a whopping €44, they suddenly plummeted down to €30 (due to sponsorship by a well-known beer brand, we were told), causing all sorts of amused commentary among bloggers.
Then word got out that Antony "and the Johnsons" Hegarty, the dominant guest voice on the recent debut album, would not be touring due to other commitments.
How, then, do you replace a larger-than-life figure such as Antony? That's right: bring a band of eight musicians to compensate. The additions for the live show were necessary: a trumpet and trombone player supplied funk-filled extended outros and the four-man rhythm section - which included the brains behind the project, Andy Butler - kept the crowd moving throughout, dishing out bouncing basslines, house beats and live percussion.
Where this performance failed to convince was in the vocal department. It's not often that a band can boast a transgender frontwoman such as Nomi, but while she did her best to work the crowd into a sweat, Kim Ann (who could pass for an extra from any 1980s teen movie) was less persuasive. The latter's solo take on Athene, as well as being off-key, reeked of karaoke singalong.
The audience, ever enthusiastic if slightly sparse, responded with delight as Blind, a cracking amalgam of disco and deep house, made an early appearance, and the infectious Hercules Theme helped end the set on a high.
Although entertaining, and airtight for a band that made their live debut a mere fortnight ago, it was impossible not to wonder what the show might have been if bolstered by the presence and charisma of Antony. - BRIAN KEANE
Per Arne Glorvigen
Hugh Lane Gallery, Dublin
Norwegian bandoneón player Per Arne Glorvigen pointed out an interesting parallel between two musical instruments born in the mid-19th century. Neither the rectangular bandoneón accordion nor the saxophone managed to secure regular places in European symphony orchestras as their inventors - Heinrich Band and Adolphe Sax - had hoped.
Instead, however, both instruments became the foundation of new musical cultures that emerged early in the 20th century in the New World: the saxophone in jazz in the US, and the bandoneón in the tango in Argentina and Uruguay.
Glorvigen, who came to the instrument as an Oslo music postgraduate via Paris and Buenos Aires, opened his recital by going straight to the core repertoire, which originally sprang from port cafe culture and its spicy mix of Cuban, African and Italian influences.
Short pieces by Juan Carlos Cobián, Julio de Caro and, above all, Astor Piazzolla appealingly illustrated the classic facets of tango: florid melodic lines, jazzy harmonies and seventh-laden circles of fifths, a pulsing rhythmic undercurrent and a mood of pure nostalgia.
A handful of other pieces revealed a wider range for the instrument. El Marne, although still a classic tango, was composed in 1915 as an anti-war statement by Eduardo Arolas, who was in Paris at the time. Glorvigen played his own arrangements of a selection of "Lyric Pieces" by his compatriot, Edvard Grieg. And the concert ended with Pandora's Box, by the Buenos Aires-born Mauricio Kagel. Composed in 1960, its nine minutes of music theatre required Glorvigen to play in serialist language as well as whistle, sing and groan, and spin on an office swivel chair.
Glorvigen proved a powerful champion of his instrument. He was up to every challenge, matching his great virtuosity with moving expressiveness, and he spoke charmingly and with humour. As an encore, he played and sang King of the Road. - MICHAEL DUNGAN
