Sincerely, L. Cohen
Leonard Cohen
Rod Laver Arena
November 13, 2010
While I was in the U.S., there were a few occasions where I was able to take advantage of the time difference and fast internet connection at work in order to snap up tickets for shows as soon as they went on sale. For instance, 9am Melbourne time was somewhere around 5pm Atlanta time. A couple of years ago, when Leonard Cohen last visited our shores, my mum (who is a massive fan) asked me if I'd mind doing the transaction for her, so I did. Months later, after the show, mum - who isn't prone to exaggeration or gushing - adamantly told me it was the best concert she'd ever seen. Fearing that it would be overkill and spoil her memory of this wonderful evening, she decided not to go this time around, but urged me to see him for myself. Even Bill, the salesman who I dealt with when purchasing my camera recently, lit up when we got onto the topic of taking photographs at gigs. Having seen Cohen the last time he was in Melbourne, Bill was going again, and assured me that I was in for a treat. What a misnomer.
Apparently, at some point in his life, Leonard Cohen went off and lived as a Buddhist monk in relative isolation. Perhaps this can help explain the warmth, generosity and serenity that he seems to exude, despite being fleeced of millions of dollars by those managing his business affairs over several years. On stage, in his suit and hat, Cohen is diminutive, magnetic, humble, charming and frail, all at once. Given that the themes running through his writing include ostensibly, sex, religion and women, this provides the perfect ingredients for an emotionally charged show. At 76, it's clear that despite his advanced age, he still adores, and is adored by women, convincingly delivering lines about receiving head in "Chelsea Hotel", and needing to see his lover naked (...in body and thought) in "I'm Your Man". During his three hour set, which was split in two by a 20 minute interval, Cohen had the crowd wrapped around his long, elegant fingers. I don't know the capacity of Rod Laver Arena, but you could hear a pin drop during "Suzanne", with just Leonard on stage with his guitar. Although most folks in the audience were upwards of fifty years old, the atmosphere was somewhere between reverence and proving vocally who had the biggest store of factoids and trivia about the main attraction.
A couple of times during the show, Cohen went through and introduced each of his band members by name, some of whom have been working with him for over thirty years. In gestures such as thanking his crew right down to the sound and light technicians, each by name, it's easy to see how the associations that Leonard Cohen forms are likely to end up being so long and fruitful. I walked away from the show with a much better understanding of why this man is so revered, as much for his person, as his writing. The entire production is polished and slick, but never comes across as though it's just another night on a long, arduous tour. Cohen is nimble, sauntering and running at times, or even falling to his knees during numbers like "Hallelujah". But it never seems false, contrived or routine.
A part of the show that Bill the camera guy told me to look out for was the version of "If It Be Your Will". Towards the end of the night, this was sung by the very talented Webb sisters who form two out of three of Cohen's backing singers. It's hard to believe that a sense of intimacy can be achieved in such a big venue, but the two girls with just guitar and harp managed to pull it off. Cohen's troupe is exquisitely tight, with each individual's brilliance shining through. Nevertheless, whether it's the playful spring in his step during "Dance Me To The End Of Love," the pensiveness of "Famous Blue Raincoat" or "The Partisan", the longing in "In My Secret Life", or that beautiful baritone simply speaking "A Thousand Kisses Deep", it still feels as though Leonard Cohen is the only one on the stage.
It's not often that you feel honoured, privileged or even undeserving to have seen someone perform. And I guess it says a lot about where I'm at (or not at) to place so much importance on a live show. Still, I wish I had a fraction of Leonard Cohen's peace and magnanimity, which we could all do with in these heady times. May his songs stay alive for many, many years to come.
Rod Laver Arena
November 13, 2010
While I was in the U.S., there were a few occasions where I was able to take advantage of the time difference and fast internet connection at work in order to snap up tickets for shows as soon as they went on sale. For instance, 9am Melbourne time was somewhere around 5pm Atlanta time. A couple of years ago, when Leonard Cohen last visited our shores, my mum (who is a massive fan) asked me if I'd mind doing the transaction for her, so I did. Months later, after the show, mum - who isn't prone to exaggeration or gushing - adamantly told me it was the best concert she'd ever seen. Fearing that it would be overkill and spoil her memory of this wonderful evening, she decided not to go this time around, but urged me to see him for myself. Even Bill, the salesman who I dealt with when purchasing my camera recently, lit up when we got onto the topic of taking photographs at gigs. Having seen Cohen the last time he was in Melbourne, Bill was going again, and assured me that I was in for a treat. What a misnomer.
Apparently, at some point in his life, Leonard Cohen went off and lived as a Buddhist monk in relative isolation. Perhaps this can help explain the warmth, generosity and serenity that he seems to exude, despite being fleeced of millions of dollars by those managing his business affairs over several years. On stage, in his suit and hat, Cohen is diminutive, magnetic, humble, charming and frail, all at once. Given that the themes running through his writing include ostensibly, sex, religion and women, this provides the perfect ingredients for an emotionally charged show. At 76, it's clear that despite his advanced age, he still adores, and is adored by women, convincingly delivering lines about receiving head in "Chelsea Hotel", and needing to see his lover naked (...in body and thought) in "I'm Your Man". During his three hour set, which was split in two by a 20 minute interval, Cohen had the crowd wrapped around his long, elegant fingers. I don't know the capacity of Rod Laver Arena, but you could hear a pin drop during "Suzanne", with just Leonard on stage with his guitar. Although most folks in the audience were upwards of fifty years old, the atmosphere was somewhere between reverence and proving vocally who had the biggest store of factoids and trivia about the main attraction.
A couple of times during the show, Cohen went through and introduced each of his band members by name, some of whom have been working with him for over thirty years. In gestures such as thanking his crew right down to the sound and light technicians, each by name, it's easy to see how the associations that Leonard Cohen forms are likely to end up being so long and fruitful. I walked away from the show with a much better understanding of why this man is so revered, as much for his person, as his writing. The entire production is polished and slick, but never comes across as though it's just another night on a long, arduous tour. Cohen is nimble, sauntering and running at times, or even falling to his knees during numbers like "Hallelujah". But it never seems false, contrived or routine.
A part of the show that Bill the camera guy told me to look out for was the version of "If It Be Your Will". Towards the end of the night, this was sung by the very talented Webb sisters who form two out of three of Cohen's backing singers. It's hard to believe that a sense of intimacy can be achieved in such a big venue, but the two girls with just guitar and harp managed to pull it off. Cohen's troupe is exquisitely tight, with each individual's brilliance shining through. Nevertheless, whether it's the playful spring in his step during "Dance Me To The End Of Love," the pensiveness of "Famous Blue Raincoat" or "The Partisan", the longing in "In My Secret Life", or that beautiful baritone simply speaking "A Thousand Kisses Deep", it still feels as though Leonard Cohen is the only one on the stage.
It's not often that you feel honoured, privileged or even undeserving to have seen someone perform. And I guess it says a lot about where I'm at (or not at) to place so much importance on a live show. Still, I wish I had a fraction of Leonard Cohen's peace and magnanimity, which we could all do with in these heady times. May his songs stay alive for many, many years to come.
posted by yossarian | 3:19 PM
1 Comments:
Well put Yossarian- I wish I had the ability to articulate the feelings this consummate musician/poet evokes in his songs. From the sound of it, this was an unbelievable show you're fortunate to have caught it. I hope one day to hear this man live, not sure why I've waited so long... Think I've lost my way with music which is a worry.
Hope you're well!
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