Irish Timeswriters review a selection of recent events in Dublin
Leszek Mozdzer Trio
Liberty Hall, Dublin
RAY COMISKEY
A full house was treated to a magnificent, singularly creative example of the art of the jazz trio by Polish pianist Leszek Mozdzer, with the great Swedish bassist, Lars Danielsson, and the marvellous Israeli percussionist, Zohar Fresco. Classically trained, he is a virtuoso who treats the piano like an orchestra, yet never overwhelms the lightning-fast interplay with his colleagues. His technique allows no gap between thought and execution; the keyboard is treated like a vast palette of colours and textures - sometimes increased by laying glass tumblers on the strings to achieve different timbres - from which Mozdzer can paint any aural pictures he wishes.
Yet the virtuosity - and Danielsson is also a virtuoso - was always put to musical ends. Behind the dazzling filigree of the opening Sortorello, a playful, folk-like, 12th-century melody, was an engaging sense of purpose that promised just that.
Significantly, throughout the concert, no soloist went on at length. Despite the spontaneity and individual talent, the trio possessed an overall sense of the arc of each performance in which the exquisite group dynamics and internal balance always reconciled surprise with inevitability. And Fresco's wordless vocalising on the sad Psalmenand the ethereal Astaadded further colours to the sonic palette.
If their other excursions into material by other writers, the great Krzysztof Komeda's Svantetikand a coruscating take on Miles Davis's So What(the second encore), were more than merely clever, the trio were at their best on their own compositions. On his own Incognitor, for example, Mozdzer showed a rare ability to spin out and develop melodic cells, amid superb interaction with the bass, in a performance capped by a lovely, songlike bass solo. And most of the repertoire was devoted to originals by members of the trio.
A few abiding memories: the astonishing bass solo and the piano's juggling with time, yet maintaining the solo flow, on Pasodoble; the superbly imaginative development of Ex Ego; the simple theme of The Time, which inspired one of the most lyrical, coherent and logical piano solos; and Danielsson's stunning evocation of Spanish guitar on pizzicato cello, in the dramatic, flamenco-like Suffering. Warm and accessible, yet high-quality, this was one of the concerts of the year.
McGonnell, RTÉ Vanbrugh String Quartet
Solstice Arts Centre, Navan
MARTIN ADAMS
Mozart -Quartet in C K465 (Dissonance). Beethoven- Quartet in F minor, Op 95.
Brahms -Clarinet Quintet.
The RTÉ Vanbrugh String Quartet and clarinettist Carol McGonnell gave this concert as the second in a five-venue tour. It was my first experience of hearing music in the pleasing space offered by the gallery area of the Solstice Arts Centre in Navan. The audience is physically close to the performers, and the resonant acoustic is warm but crystal-clear.
This was a programme of serious, high-quality music, but there was not an over-precious second in it. The Vanbrughs showed no fear of taking risks in works that have a long heritage of respected performance practice. Neither reckless nor safe, the style was that of a family of related but distinct personalities, the character lying in their subtly differing emphases.
Sometimes one wondered about pacing, such as the timing of some phrase breaks in Beethoven's Quartet in F minor, Op 95; or about whether details of articulation in Mozart's "Dissonance" Quartet, K465, might have been more effective if done slightly differently. But in quartet playing, I'd take that individuality over the high polish that some prize so highly.
When Carol McGonnell joined the quartet for Brahms's Clarinet Quintet, it seemed she was the youngest and marginally wildest child of the family. She could make the clarinet the first among equals, compelling or seducing the others to respond; or she could melt into the background - and all with impeccable understanding of what this piece can be.
We had to cope with a mysterious, occasionally recurring sound that beeped like a mobile phone or pager. "Not us," said the audience. "It's not coming from us," said the Solstice technicians.
Professionals that they are, the Vanbrughs and McGonnell got on with their job, and the power of the music was undiminished by this distracting nuisance.
Tour continues at UCC tonight
The Swell Season
Olympia, Dublin
BRIAN KEANE
It's not often that the Olympia Theatre plays host to Oscar winners. Following a year that has been "brilliantly, brilliantly busy", as Glen Hansard described it, this wasn't quite a fanfare-filled homecoming for the Dubliner and his acting/singing/romantic partner, Markéta Irglová.
A typical Frames show it most definitely wasn't. On occasions the atmosphere was too sedate among the fully seated, all-ages crowd, many of whom have John Carney's Onceto thank for their introduction to the duo's talents.
Hansard, perched at the front of the stage with his battered, splinter-sprouting acoustic guitar, is the dominant figure in the Swell Seasonalbum story. Playing piano, Irglová took lead vocals for only three of the songs and, with her back to the audience, was the shy foil to the troubadour's exuberant confidence.
Hansard has every right to bask in the limelight of his new-found success. After years toiling at the coalface with little return, his appeal can no longer be devalued by small-minded accusations about parochial back-patting or his paterfamiliasposition within the incestuous Whelan's scene. With Irglová, Hansard has enchanted audiences across the globe, and it's difficult not to fall under the charm of his humorous, heart-on-sleeve banter as it quickly puts an audience at ease. Falling Slowlyreceived the biggest reaction of the night as most of the Swell Seasonalbum was delivered with a burning passion. The backing band, comprising three members of The Frames - Colm Mac Con Iomaire (violin), Joe Doyle (bass) and Rob Bochnik (guitar) - with Graham Hopkins on drums, put meat on the bones of the songs; all soul-bearing snapshots for broken-hearted and stubborn romantics.
Fitzcarraldo, as rich a song as any Irish artist has written, provided a throwback to the early days of The Frames, but its message has a new resonance now. Exuding an air of contentment that was rarely evident before in Hansard's frontman persona, the singer has finally succeeded in manoeuvring the formidable yet awkward ship of his career past all obstructions and, Irglová by his side, is steadily on course for calmer and surer waters.
