A look at what is happening in the world of the arts:

Came So Far for Beauty

Point, Dublin Theatre Festival

In Anthem, Leonard Cohen came closest to writing a personal credo: "There is a crack, a crack in everything, that's how the light gets in." Nothing could ever sum up such an enigma; a man whose gravelly vocals seem laced with despair, but whose lyrics - whether forlorn or cynical, seductive or sardonic - always seem to be on the cusp of epiphany.

That credo may be the guiding concept behind this extraordinary all-star tribute to the Canadian poet and songwriter. From Nick Cave's ferocious rendition of Avalanche, performed in gloomy half-light, through to the final, glorious illumination of an a capella Winter Lady more than four hours later, 15 singers perform 35 songs and wander through the dark beauty of Cohen's genius. They prove that his considerable songbook can bear any interpretation.

Well, almost any interpretation. Tonight, some are intent to honour the songs - Laurie Anderson is surprisingly faithful - while others are keen to test a song's breaking points. Lou Reed, for instance, takes his electric guitar and distortion pedal to One of Us Cannot Be Wrong, originally a soft acoustic song that yields to an unnerving scream, and drags the shriek back through the music.

There is less justification for Gavin Friday and Mary Margaret O'Hara's mauling of Hallelujah, an earthy prayer reduced to a senseless flailing of falsetto and spasmodic ejaculations. But, horrid as the experiment is, at least everything else becomes exquisite by comparison.

An endearingly fidgety Antony commands a delicate surge of emotion through The Guests and If It Be Your Will; Teddy Thompson provides the bravest and most satisfying experiment of the night in a ska version of Waiting For The Miracle; Beth Orton affectingly inhabits So Long, Marianne and Sisters of Mercy; and whenever someone is required to sing of transcendent beauty and the less transcendent need to ravish it, Jarvis Cocker is available.

It's the indomitable Hansom Family who shine brightest, however, their balance between grave Americana and deliciously dry wit infusing the warm drag of One Thousand Kisses Deep. And when Rennie Sparks cautions us that Famous Blue Raincoat is so beautifully written first-time listeners might burst into flames, the slow ache of their performance makes even long-time fans fear for spontaneous combustion.

Ever since Cohen put his faith in synthesisers it's been difficult not to improve on his arrangements, but that doesn't diminish the achievement of the Steven Bernstein's house band, coursing with strings and brass and wonderfully accentuated by David Coulter's musical saw.

But if - as Cohen once claimed - the environment must be buoyant enough to support his despair, the night floats by on a heartening lack of ego among the icons assembled by directors Hal Wilner and Janine Nichols to build this tower of song. They came so far for beauty and still left Cohen's masterpieces unsigned. - Peter Crawley

Sophie Cashel (piano)

John Field Room (NCH)

Handel - Suite no 6 in F sharp minor HWV431 Beethoven - Sonata in E flat Op 81a (Les Adieux) Liszt - Ballade No 2 in B minor Philip Martin - Two Variations on an Irish Air Ravel - Le tombeau de Couperin

In this recital, Sophie Cashel proved herself a worthy winner of the Mabel Swainson Pianoforte Award at this year's Siemens Feis Ceoil. Her programme was wide-ranging in compositional styles, and demanding on technique and musicianship; and as far as musicianship is concerned, she's a natural, whose playing was always pleasant to listen to.

One of the consistent strengths of this recital was its combination of subtle detail and direct communication. From a restrained account of Handel's Suite No 6 HWV431 to a barnstorming attack on the Toccata that ends Ravel's Le tombeau de Couperin, Cashel showed that she know how to pinpoint the most important characteristics of a wide range of music.

She has the technique to deliver; and the occasional technical smudge never broke the continuity of a musical idea. One of her most striking technical strengths is her command of piano colour. She knows how to use it effectively.

In some places, especially in the fast movements of Beethoven's Sonata in E Flat Op 81a (Les Adieux) and of the Ravel, there was a tendency for long-line drive to overwhelm the control of metre. That was seen in microcosm in the third movement of the Ravel, the Forlane, where an iota was snatched off the end of each dotted-rhythm pulse. You could not quite tap your foot to this dance-based piece.

Cashel is in her first year of studies at the Royal Academy of Music in London. I have not heard many Irish pianists of her age who could, with seeming aplomb, handle the majestic virtuosity of Liszt's Ballade No 2 in B minor, and define its layered textures by simultaneously contrasting differing colours in differing registers of the piano.

In almost every respect that matters, her recital indicated a musician of serious ability. - Martin Adams

ICO/Hunka

NCH, Dublin

In a year when significant anniversaries of Mozart and Shostakovich have been widely celebrated, few concert programmes can have combined their utterly dissimilar music as brilliantly as the Irish Chamber Orchestra's current Festival of Strings tour does.

And under the guidance of guest leader-director Katherine Hunka, the ICO's execution is a model of elegance, imagination and good taste.

They begin with Mozart's Divertimento K318, and end with Shostakovich's Chamber Symphony Op 110a - his poignant 8th quartet in an authorised arrangement for string band by Rudolf Barshai. In between, there's another beefed-up Russian quartet in the shape of Arensky's Tchaikovsky Variations Op 35a. Here, the reworking is the composer's own.

Bridging the gulf between Mozart and these Russians is a second Soviet work, Alfred Schnittke's witty collage of classical clippings Moz-art à la Haydn (1977). The score of this "play on music" calls for two solo violins (Hunka and Nicola Sweeney in feline dialogue), two small string orchestras and double bass. Playing standing, the violinists and violists alternate between two formations, and quit the stage in dribs and drabs as the lights dim at the end.

There's also a partly comic role for a conductor in this postmodern farewell symphony. Yet without one, the ICO's performance is more than entertaining enough and extremely well co-ordinated - at those moments when things are meant to be co-ordinated, that is.

With both 20th-century items, the expression is appropriately restrained, and avoids overindulgence in the one and buffoonery in the other. With Mozart and Arensky, the phrasing is polished, the tempos are graceful, and the dynamics richly modulated. All this confers a fresh, intelligent spirit on the music, and adds up to a beautifully mannered performance upon which the ICO would be hard-pressed to improve. - Andrew Johnstone

• Tours Rathkeale (today), Inis Oirr (Sat) and Birr (Sun).