like a single heartbeat, fading into eternity

like a single heartbeat, fading into eternity - V

Posted by V

I was very kindly given tickets to see Feist last Friday at Ravinia, a large outdoor amphitheater and park grounds in the affluent Chicago suburb of Highland Park. I was floored with excitement and anticipation as Friday approached.

It was my first time at Ravinia, a venue that typically caters to an older, more mature crowd with classical musicians, the CSO, and touring jazz greats filling the concert roster. Every so often though, a pop or rock act stop through, drawing out every young person in the Metra-accessible suburbs in droves to lounge on the lawn and get plastered with 5000 of their closest friends.

Luckily, our tickets were for the Pavilion, which meant we had an actual seat, an excellent view of the stage and were not forced to navigate the maze of coolers, lawn chairs and drunk college kids.

Juana Molina opened for Feist to a sad and mostly empty amphitheater while concert-goers wandered aimlessly trying to chug their wine on the outskirts of the Pavilion. (Despite large signs listing wine sponsors at the Pavilion entrance, no beverages of any kind were permitted in, causing mass confusion and constant in-and-out foot traffic between every song for the remainder of the evening.) I had decided not to drink, so I took in the calm dusk breeze to the sounds of Argentinean Molina’s gentle guitar and folk-tinged Spanish lyrics. If you’ve yet to check out her music, I’ve been a fan for awhile now and it’s definitely worth a listen.

Feist began after a short intermission, right as darkness hit. It could not have been timed more perfectly. From behind a panel that appeared to be made of some type of vellum, Feist began her performance as a ghost of herself. One track in, Feist appeared to the crowd dressed in white tights, a white flapper style dress and men’s fedora. I was a bit taken aback by her resemblance to a long-haired Patti Smith, though not necessarily in a bad way.

Feist progressed through a setlist of all her most popular hits. Truthfully, I would have loved some of the more obscure tracks to have made an appearance. Regardless, her performance was expertly plannedâ€”just when you began to be lulled away by the night air into a semi-sleepy state, Feist would erupt into a guitar frenzy that would have impressed Jimi Hendrix. Stuck in the blogosphere amidst the Feist remixes, you tend to forget she is not an electronic artist in any way, shape or form. Her guitar skills and vocal improvisation throughout the night solidified her alongside Patti Smith and Liz Phair as one of the great women of rock.

Feist was brilliant, but the real standout of the evening was the amazing shadow arts of Montreal-based puppeteer Clea Minaker and her assistant, Diane Montgomery. Projected on a giant screen behind Feist, Clea and Diane choreographed an utterly breathtaking show of their own, performed in shadows, puppets and video, perfectly in sync with Feist’s every move on stage. It would be unfair of me if I didn’t admit that my eyes were transfixed on them for the entirety of the show.

While the shadow art was mesmerizing, it was the rare bursts of truly innovative video that did me in. During My Moon, My Man, a handheld camera was placed inside the piano and projected as a live feed, panning along with the pianist’s every note. The camera then reappeared during a heated guitar vs. piano battle, with Feist whaling away on guitar. Feist, guitar in hand, stood inches from the pianist, who turned to face her. The camera snuck up, unseen to the audience from the ground. This resulted in a dramatic live music video in which Feist appeared to be fucking the pianist with her guitar. It was not tacky, it was raw sexual energy and magic. Clea and Diane ended My Moon, My Man by placing the camera inside the kick drum while the audience watched the mallet thump inside the void like a single heartbeat, fading into eternity. Clea and Diane’s visual choreography for this track in particular gave me chills up and down my body and made me tear up.

The crowd and venue proved to be an obvious challenge for Feist with an intimate setting inside the Pavilion and beyond in the distance, slews of people atop one another on the sprawling lawn. It was evident that a good majority of the lawn-goers were there to chat with friends and get extremely wasted. There was definitely heckling coming from the lawn and a general air of, “Who did you say this was? Oh yeah, she was on the Apple commercial”. We were seated in the second half of the Pavilion and I found it quite difficult to concentrate fully on the stage with the roar of the drunken lawn directly behind us. Feist did an applaudable job wrangling the lawn folk into singing and clapping contests with the Pavilion-goers, but ultimately it was destined to failâ€”they were there to party…and party they did. I actually feel sorry for anyone seated in the lawn anticipating the show. I can only imagine it was nothing less than a horrible experience.

In the end, Feist’s talent and the amazing visual art of Clea and Diane made for an unforgettable night. I only wish the lawn folk could have put down their mini-kegs and reveled in the magic that us Pavilion-goers were privileged to experience. As a whole, the concert was a wonderful break from everything electronic and digital that I seem to surround myself with 24/7. I learned that everything well-written isn’t typed, and art and beauty can be made with tools that aren’t usb-compatible.

Feist – Sea Lion Woman (live in Vienna, April 15, 2007) (192 kbps)

Feist – 1 2 3 4 (Live on Letterman August 27, 2007) (64 kbps)

Juana Molina – Micael (160 kbps) (via brooklynvegan)