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Halifax, Nova Scotia: 06.01.2001 |
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Halifax's Rebecca Cohn Auditorium, at Dalhousie University's Arts Centre, is a top-notch soft-seat concert venue, which filled up for two nights recently for shows by Winnipeg's Chantal Kreviazuk. Softly lit and buoyed by the crowd's anticipation, the room played home to a jubilant and warm show, opened up by Quebec chanteuse Jorane.
Jorane is perhaps the only cellist in existence who smiles as she plays. And she both smiles and performs broadly- singing hard-to-pigeonhole material alternately in English and French, accompanied by a lone guitarist, and playing her cello as a cello, or a bass, or as a percussion instrument, she had a blast up there. There were no stiff classicisms or herky-jerky head movements to be seen; just an infectious enjoyment in her music-making, and an excitement in the opportunity of this tour, which was palpable. Everybody loved her, and suspected as she finished her set that she'd be back soon, both within this show and on her own roadtrip.
A venue like the Cohn is perfect for someone like Chantal Kreviazuk. She is clearly comfortable in and suited to a soft seater, where she can place candles on her Steinway and do her thing without the bother and noise of a bar atmosphere getting in the way. Her music requires attention to be really communicated and comfortable for her. The crowd represented a pleasantly wide cross-section of people, of all ages and from all walks of life, without any one defining characteristic between. This is certainly a sign of some success for a songwriter. She strode out on stage. With lush arpeggios from her piano and a bowed upright bass behind her, she began a show which would last a perfectly appropriate hour and forty minutes.
The listener is immediately made aware of the power in her voice. She is a Singer: her projection, vibrato usage, and tuning were tastefully used all through the show. If you're not familiar with her voice, she is tonally if not at all stylistically rather like the Cranberries' Delores O'Riordan- but more subtle in the use of her instrument, more technically accomplished-
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the piano, as it were, to O'Riordan's rock band.
Fortunately, she's not an artiste in between tunes. The girl is funny, and obviously comfortable in her own skin, which makes the crowd more comfortable with the artist. Good.
She tried out many new songs, much to the crowd's delight. After the first one ("It's about spooning…" quoth she), the crowd verily roared its approval. Kreviazuk-cult favorites, like 'Souls' and 'Dear Life' were applauded before the first verses to them began. 'Until We Die' is a fantastic song, one of the artist's favorites, and frequently also mentioned by fans. The live version featured a bowed upright bass,quietly sizzling cymbals, and a brooding power that worked nicely for the sound of the room. This is the effect frequently sought after by the craft-oriented songwriter: to have the audience living in your moment. Another arresting example of the same premise could be found in 'Brenda's Song', an elegy to a beloved cousin: "I never believed we'd live to see an angel being born, and flying home…"
There were songs I felt, some that I did not, hit songs, new songs, radio songs, story songs, all displaying admirable ranges of dynamics and textures from Kreviazuk and her 2-man rhythm section. Good job all around.
The evening finished (or so we would think) with the artist requesting the the house lights be brought up, that we ALL stand up, and sing 'Leaving On a Jet Plane' with her, evoking the hijacked spirit of that beer commercial where a gaggle of strangers convenes in the woods to gleefully sing 'Sweet Caroline' together long into the night. There we were, back-and-forthing with her on the chorus without a care in the world.
That was the obligatory false ending. She had somewhat predictably left at least 2 songs to the encore realm: her biggest hit, 'Before You', and her first, 'God Made Me'. The latter never emerged, and the crowd didn't seem to care, for that was the old, unhappy sounding Chantal. She is now sated and happy, as was the crowd on the way outside.
By Kevan Corbett, 2001
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