September 17, 2009
And with a quiet click of Jim Tomlinson’s fingers we are off; these exemplary and immaculately turned-out musicians exuding a quiet, calm virtuosity that complements nicely Ms Kent’s clear yet soulful voice. Her phrasing is wonderful; at times conversational and always considered, bringing new life to jazz standards, from Rodgers and Hammerstein to Burt Bacharach.
The songs written by her husband (and tonight’s saxophonist) Jim Tomlinson are the real standout. The lyrics, supplied by Kazuo Ishiguro, are contemporary musings on love and life. Ishiguro captures the hesitant, equivocal, unknowing modern mindset through the use of qualifying phrases – “it seems”; “perhaps”; “I suppose.” Nothing is absolute, everything is conditional or subject to interpretation. Ms Kent delivers the words beautifully – she genuinely acts and invests each line with feeling.
One particular song exemplifies this, “Breakfast on the Morning Tram:” Ishiguro’s rhyming of “cinnamon pancake” with “heartache” bringing bathos to a New York morning ritual.
Mr Tomlinson’s saxophone works next to Ms Kent in symbiosis: its plangent tones complementing or replying to the vocals to great effect. Mr Tomlinson’s triumphant moments come in an instrumental rendition of Bacharach’s “Alfie.” He brings as much eloquence and longing from his sax as ever Cilla did.
The music ranges far and wide: folk songs from Brazil, Portugal and France. Wherever the music comes from, Ms Kent is careful to imbue it with her own sensibilities. We never feel there is anything arbitrary about the choice of song. She introduces many of the songs - at one point the song is shorter than her intro! - with anecdotes and explanations of why she likes it so much. I am sure these introductions will fall away as the tour goes on; the songs are strong enough to speak for themselves.
She is ably supported by Matt Skelton on drums, who like an artist, daubs and stipples his kit with his brushes. Roger Bilcox provides a sturdy foundation to the evening on bass and Graham Harvey provides an excellent example of piano as both a complementary and soloist’s instrument.
Stacey Kent’s control and phrasing are delightful; she never belts or warbles to add soul or manufactured emotion to what she sings, but rather relies on clear, bell-like communication, sometimes descending to barely a whisper, sometimes flattening the end of a phrase into a near conversation. It is this level of communication, so professionally and confidently rendered, that makes her work such a joy.
The songs written by her husband (and tonight’s saxophonist) Jim Tomlinson are the real standout. The lyrics, supplied by Kazuo Ishiguro, are contemporary musings on love and life. Ishiguro captures the hesitant, equivocal, unknowing modern mindset through the use of qualifying phrases – “it seems”; “perhaps”; “I suppose.” Nothing is absolute, everything is conditional or subject to interpretation. Ms Kent delivers the words beautifully – she genuinely acts and invests each line with feeling.
One particular song exemplifies this, “Breakfast on the Morning Tram:” Ishiguro’s rhyming of “cinnamon pancake” with “heartache” bringing bathos to a New York morning ritual.
Mr Tomlinson’s saxophone works next to Ms Kent in symbiosis: its plangent tones complementing or replying to the vocals to great effect. Mr Tomlinson’s triumphant moments come in an instrumental rendition of Bacharach’s “Alfie.” He brings as much eloquence and longing from his sax as ever Cilla did.
The music ranges far and wide: folk songs from Brazil, Portugal and France. Wherever the music comes from, Ms Kent is careful to imbue it with her own sensibilities. We never feel there is anything arbitrary about the choice of song. She introduces many of the songs - at one point the song is shorter than her intro! - with anecdotes and explanations of why she likes it so much. I am sure these introductions will fall away as the tour goes on; the songs are strong enough to speak for themselves.
She is ably supported by Matt Skelton on drums, who like an artist, daubs and stipples his kit with his brushes. Roger Bilcox provides a sturdy foundation to the evening on bass and Graham Harvey provides an excellent example of piano as both a complementary and soloist’s instrument.
Stacey Kent’s control and phrasing are delightful; she never belts or warbles to add soul or manufactured emotion to what she sings, but rather relies on clear, bell-like communication, sometimes descending to barely a whisper, sometimes flattening the end of a phrase into a near conversation. It is this level of communication, so professionally and confidently rendered, that makes her work such a joy.