Irish Times writers review the unstoppable showmanship of Neil Diamond and events in the Music in Great Irish Houses series.
Neil Diamond, Lansdowne Road, Dublin
If time machines were piloted by musical directors, then Neil Diamond would probably be the first at the helm. Saturday night's concert was a lesson in epoch-making and grand gestures.
Diamond was nonplussed by the greying of his audience and unperturbed by the Irish nation's inability to walk and chew gum at the same time. Because, for him, us Irish are "the greatest singalong audience in the world".
Whether we could clap in time was neither here nor there, because the Diamond musical steamroller knew only too well how to coax and nudge its punters towards that otherworld where Sweet Caroline, Forever In Blue Jeans and Beautiful Noise reign supreme.
Diamond's star-spangled shirt whispered of another time too. At 64, he cuts a sleek figure on stage, his 10 plus backing band and three backing vocalists scaffolding what is still a pitch perfect voice that betrays few signs of roadweariness.
His is a world where movies are still motion pictures and America is still a land of hope and glory.
As he introduced America the song, and spoke of a time when "Everywhere around the world/They're coming to America", he conjured another time and another place.
The past is, indeed, another country, and this musical snapshot underscored just how much times have changed in his beloved home turf, where flags unfurled invoke far more than an innocent pride these days.
Diamond's showmanship was at times unstoppable as he rollicked his way through the back catalogue from Desirée to Play Me, Love On The Rocks and You Don't Bring Me Flowers.
His sweetly timed reminder of his writing credits on The Monkees' I'm A Believer was welcome, but his rap-infested take on another surprising Diamond ditty, Red Red Wine lurched unpredictably between schizoid identities, none of which remotely approached UB40's definitive version of the song.
Oddly, he chose to place lesser-known, low-key songs towards the end of the two-hour performance, leading to an unlikely anticlimax as the sun went down. Recovery was rapid all the same, with a rousing reading of Cracklin' Rosie, and ultimately what he delivered was a slickly polished showcase of a musician whose pride in his songwriting is everything.
Backed by a competent brass section, and lushly synthesised strings, Neil Diamond may hark back to another time, but that's the very thing his audience loves him for.
Like a snapshot frozen in time, he recreated his audience's magical moments in memory with an ear for precision, though bereft of any instinct for spontaneity. Siobhán Long
Europa Galante/Biondi, Castletown House, Co Kildare
Sammartini - Sinfonia in F JC36; Purcell - Chacony in G minor; Castello - Sonata quindicesima; Mascitti - Concerto in A Op 7 No 4; Couperin - L'Apothéose de CorellI; WF Bach - Sinfonia in F Fk67; Corelli - Concerto Grosso in D Op 6 No 4.
Over the last 25 years many of the most persuasive groups in early music have come from France, Italy and Spain. One of these is Europa Galante, which appeared last Saturday in Castletown House, as part of the IIB Bank Music in Great Irish Houses series.
These Italian musicians know that historical authenticity is a chimera that has run its course. The score and the historical instruments are the starting points for music-making that is free not because of the presence of historical authority, but because of its absence.
The seven musicians, directed by Fabio Bioni, played two violins, viola, a comparatively large continuo group of cello, harpsichord and theorbo, and a deliciously rich-toned violone. This bass-rich texture was a perfect foil to the floridity of the upper strings.
The programme epitomised the astonishing variety of the Baroque and early classical. Purcell's Chacony epitomises self-conscious technical discipline.
Dario Castello's early 17th-century Sonata quindicesima is full of explosive inventiveness. Couperin's L'Apothéose de Corelli is a pinnacle of French sophistication. WF Bach's Sinfonia in F Fk67 brims with muscular musicality of the German kind. All these works sounded as if they were being re-created afresh by musicians who loved performing, who understood that the discourse of notes and instruments is discourse between people and their ideas.
Every one of these players was a virtuoso in his or her own right; and although the violins got the lion's share of virtuosity, especially in Corelli's Concerto in D Op 6 no 4, not one note from the others ever had a dutiful or routine aspect.
That's what gave the concert its authenticity, historical or not. Listening to this concerto one understood what it was that astonished an English musician who heard Corelli play - "O, the fire and fury of the Italians!" Martin Adams
Series continues until 18th June. For details telephone (01) 6642822 or visit http://www.musicirishhouses
