The Irish Times reviews some of the goings-on in the arts.
Explosions in the Sky
Tripod, Dublin
Explosions in the Sky are a four-piece instrumental post-rock band from Texas. This particular type of music is dominated by the might of Scottish giants Mogwai, and every band that decides to play shoe-gazey guitar-based rock, with barely a whisper of words for entire sets, will inevitably be compared to Mogwai - and they set the bar very high indeed.
Explosions in the Sky's brand of music is slightly more cinematic; delayed, washed guitars flow and ebb around a solid, punchy rhythm section. The songwriting's range is a little narrow, with songs following the familiar path up guitar distortion mountain to rolling plateaus of noise, which lift the crowd and band thrashing around on stage. At several points, frontman (only in the sense in that he is the one who say "hello" at the beginning of the show and "thanks" at the end) Munaf Rayani is more intent on playing with his effect pedals, abandoning the guitar altogether to bang on the ground in the hunt for more noise. Michael James also swaps his bass regularly for guitar, which does plenty for the volume but at the expense of a large amount of the band's bottom end, making the tracks a bit rootless and leaving the fine drummer, Christopher Hrasky, with an awful lot of ground to cover.
This is fine, unapologetic post-rock music, and ticks all the boxes: large, swelling waves of guitar noise that rise and decay, rumbling, shuddering bass (for most tracks) and tight, fluid drumming that pounds the crowd. The songs, however, are that little bit predictable and drawn from a small palette. As one song feeds into another, a lack of dynamic erodes the set as a whole. The band start the night thrashing their instruments with almost Status Quo co-ordination, and spend the next hour and 15 minutes lost in their own, noisy, off-kilter musical world.
The packed crowd are thrilled with the night, and irritated at the lack of an encore, even if Explosions in the Sky never quite set the room on fire.
Laurence Mackin
Schmid, RTÉ NSO
Kalmar NCH, Dublin
Bartók - Dance Suite
Szymanowski - Violin Concerto No 1 Dvorák - Symphony No 8
The performance of the opening work, Bartók's Dance Suite, epitomised the strengths and the limitations of this concert. Written in 1923, just after The Miraculous Mandarin, this suite confidently combines modernist complexity and folk-based materials. Designed to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the establishment of Budapest, and to assert cultural identity following postwar turmoil, it looks forward and it reflects.
Under the baton of Carlos Kalmar, the RTÉ National Symphony Orchestra played with conviction and energy. However, the tight rhythmic style had a nervous edge that gripped the moment without expanding into large-scale shaping. Because the performance was unable to relax, it was also unable to reflect.
Music-making of a more persuasive kind came in Szymanowski's Violin Concerto No. 1; and that persuasion hung on the soloist, Benjamin Schmid. This demanding concerto requires that the violinist deploy a wide range of expressive resources including, in the opening bars, a soaring sensuality that must seem to be without effort - all the more difficult for being so high-pitched.
Without straining, Schmid did all that was required as he wove his lines in and out of the mosaic-like complexity of the orchestral part. Although the orchestral playing did not always have the textural focus that reveals this concerto at its best, the soloist's authority carried everything forward.
Like the Bartók, Dvorák's Symphony No. 8 had its moments. However, this remarkable piece was oddly unmoving, largely because it was not shaped broadly enough, because it, too, proved unable to relax and allow lyricism a free rein; and without that relaxation, force tended to become bluster. It was revealing that the best movement by far was the third, in which long-line melody and phrasing are so written into the music that one can do nothing but go with it.
Martin Adams
Laura Izibor
Crawdaddy, Dublin
At the age of 20, Laura Izibor has already played with an envious collection of musicians, opening for, among others, Jamie Cullum, James Brown, the Roots and Al Green and headlining the Cork Jazz Festival - and all this without putting out an album (her debut, Let the Truth Be Told, is due in the summer). That said, several of her tracks have been used on Grey's Anatomy, the Nanny Diaries and PS I Love You, which no doubt helps to pay the rent.
Izibor might be young but her voice is extraordinary. Deep and soulful, she skips across scales in a heartbeat, with acres of space and volume to play with. Live, she pushes that little bit harder, opening up and leaving most of her band in the shade.
She attacks notes with reams of confidence, starting off slow and sultry then ratcheting up from the roots and filling the room. Her backing band are tight, but there's no great mystery to their playing. It's solid rather than inspirational, and there's no doubt who the star is.
Izibor's album will sell by the shedload when it does eventually hit the shelves. Songs such as Shine, From My Heart to Yours and Mmm will have many a mainstream radio DJ in raptures. Live, her voice and no small amount of charm, coupled with a Dublin accent as thick as a house, knock the crowd over.
The calibre of her vocal, though, is perhaps not matched by the songs, a collection of pleasant, likeable, summery tracks that shimmer and bounce.
But her voice is much richer than this, and the control and discipline she has over it are never tested. If Izibor put her voice to use on more challenging tracks, with a band that were willing to go toe to toe with her, it could be an unrelenting, jaw-dropping soul experience.
This is a confident, stylish performance from a singer with stacks of talent and charm.
Laurence Mackin
