Out West Arts: Performance at the end of the world

Wainwright in feathers from a 2010 London appearance. Photo: Kasia Bobula 2010

Rufus Wainwright has always had a flair for the dramatic. And lately that’s taken him farther and farther away from the mainstream of contemporary popular song with side trips into a full-length opera, 2009’s Prima Donna, and a variety of other music and theater ventures. His most recent recording All Days Are Nights: Songs for Lulu might seem to return to a simpler model with its stripped down piano and vocals. Written during the course of some difficult months leading up to the death of his mother earlier this year, the recording is certainly introspective if not always easily accessible. And yet, when Wainwright appears on stage in his current U.S. tour as he did at the Greek Theater in L.A. on Friday, it's clear that his recent interest in pursuing theatrical avenues outside of conventional pop formats continues unabated.

The first half of the show, as the nearly half empty Greek Theater was told, would consist of a single song cycle that Wainwright requested be uninterrupted by applause or photography. He then appeared dressed in a gauzy black robe trimmed with black feathers and a train trailing him across the stage as he slowly approached the piano where he launched into All Days Are Nights in its chronological entirety. By presenting a work in a format perhaps more familiar to followers of classical music such as a song recital and recasting himself as an artist closer to Liszt than Elton John, Wainwright was asking for trouble. It’s an ambitious presentation of an ambitious work that could not have arrived in a less appropriate venue than the beer-swilling, outdoor home for summer music in L.A. The crowd was certainly respectful, but the pretension of the presentation complete with video, frequently ran the risk of overwhelming the beautiful songs.

The songs themselves from All Days Are Nights are often quite good. But as Wainwright branches out into more demanding and varied musical fields one begins to wonder if his own skills as a performer are up to the task. I mean I love the songs of Benjamin Britten but no one, including Britten, wanted to hear him sing them himself. Wainwright often pushes for notes well out of his range and his playing can be more than a little sloppy at times. This first quite serious segment of the show seemed like it was only halfway to where it needed to go.

The second set, featured a notably brighter, sunnier, and more loquacious Wainwright as well as the familiar songs presented in a familiar fashion. The shift in tenor into the second act was a bit steep, but not unenjoyable, especially considering that Wainwright had much firmer control of his vocal and musical resources here. His sister Martha Wainwright, who also opened the show, joined him at times onstage. She’s just completed a new recording, Sans Fusils Ni Souliers A Paris, of Edith Piaf covers that isn’t currently available in the U.S. Which is really a shame considering how lovely her samplings of them were at the start of the evening. Luckily we live in the world of the intertubes or whatever you want to call it so you can order it here.

Labels: Rufus Wainwright

Rufus Wainwright at the Hollywood Bowl
Photo: Lori Shepler/LAT 2007

It’s hard to watch someone you admire take a fall. Especially when that fall is in the least likely of places. Such was the case this weekend when Rufus Wainwright arrived at the Hollywood Bowl with his much hyped and ballyhooed Judy Garland tribute show. Wainwright made a splash last year when he recapped Judy Garland’s legendary 1961 Carnegie Hall concert in the same venue to commemorate her life and work. He has reprized these shows around the world in other cities Garland visited on that tour, including London and Paris, and Sunday he was joined by his mother, sister Martha, and Lorna Luft to work some of that memory magic here.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t quite that magical. Sure it seemed great on paper – gay icon Wainwright performs the music of gay icon Garland in what is not only a tribute to her legend, but also a tribute of sorts to how much things have changed for gay men and lesbians in the West in the last 40 years or so. How could things go wrong? Well first off, there are the songs. Almost uniformly out of Wainwright’s range, what started out as an amusing parlor trick became nearly painful to listen to by show's end. Even with a little help from his friends, his voice was nothing but a ragged stump when all was said and done. Even when he could hold it together earlier on, he mustered so little power in the upper part of his range that even the sound mixers and amplification were powerless to stop his demolition by the Hollywood Bowl orchestra. While there was no doubt a great deal of fun reliving many of the songs that made her famous, as the evening wore on, it seemed more a reminder of how much was lost with her passing and what a huge talent she really was.

Don’t get me wrong, there were plenty of laughs, particularly Wainwright's returning to the stage for an encore of “Get Happy” in full Garland drag right out of Summer Stock. And, as he himself noted, this was really an evening about fun and in many ways it was. If only it could have sounded a little more like that.

Labels: Hollywood Bowl, Rufus Wainwright