In which Peg proves that she can clean up rather nicely

It's late, and I'm tired but happy. elisem took me to see Loreena McKennitt in concert tonight. I'll do a proper concert report tomorrow, but I just wanted to post these pictures to prove that when I dress up, I can swank with the best of them. ( Here are pictures )

Loreena McKennitt concert

Last night was wonderful. Thank you, thank you, elisem for gifting me with a ticket to the concert!

As long-time readers of this journal know, I have a special place in my heart for Loreena McKennitt, and both the singer herself and her music became integrally intertwined with the writing of The Wild Swans. ( This is the picture which started it all )

Back in, I think, 1996, a few days after I had the dream that I mentioned in the book's afterward, of a silent woman with a striking face, sitting on a park bench in a deserted city park, watching swans swim on a pond, I ran across this picture in the newspaper. I thought, "Huh, she kind of looks like the woman in my dream." I didn't cut the picture out. A few days later, I was listening to "The Thistle and Shamrock" and a gorgeous woman's voice was singing, "The Bonny Swans." I turned up the radio, wondering who was it who was singing so beautifully. "That was Loreena McKennitt" the announcer said, "who will appearing in concert next week." Loreena McKennitt? I was sure I had read that name recently. Then it occurred to me: that was the name of the woman in the picture in the newspaper. I went and dug it out of the stack and cut it out. The face and the swans: it must be a sign. I went to the phone and ordered tickets to the concert. Her music blew me away: I bought all of her CDs and listened to them over and over while writing the book.

Going and hearing her again last night was like coming home. She has not appeared in concert or released an album for a decade; she went into what seemed to be a creative retreat after the tragic drowning of her fiance in 1998. But with her new album, she's better than ever (a fact which, oddly enough, has given me a weird sort of hope for me, as proof that creativity can be revived even if it retreats for awhile.)

Since she has become the embodiment of Eliza in my imagination, it was almost as if I was watching Eliza singing to me, which made it even more amazing. The very first song she performed was "She Moved Through the Fair," part of which I used as a chapter epigram in Swans:

She went her way homeward
With one star awake
As the swans in the evening
Move over the lake.

The people were saying
No two e'er were wed
But one has a sorrow
That never was said

Her voice is amazing. It is incredibly flexible: she can sing a line with infinite tenderness, with the simplicity and quietness of a leaf falling on a perfectly still pond. And then, oh god, she leans into the line, her voice swelling up in exquisite control, soaring up in crystalline perfection, growing more and more powerful until you can hardly believe it, until your jaw drops in awe and the hairs rise on the back of your neck and the words pierce you to the heart. Here's a good example of how she can make tenderness swell into power. I spoke in The Wild Swans of the way one person can look at another that pierces the soul. Elias and Sean had a conversation about this, comparing it to James Joyces' concept of epiphany, to the look that Sarah gives Charles in The French Lieutenant's Woman. That is what Loreena McKennitt's music does to me: it pierces my soul.

And she has a band of splendid musicians to back her up, many of whom she has worked with for years. Hugh Marsh on violin (the man is also amazing), Brian Hughes on electric and acuoustic guitars, oud, and celtic bouzouki, and Rick Lazar on percussion were with her the last time she toured. Her immensely flexible voice is particularly suited to accompaniment by cello and violin, and she made good use of them. Not only is she a wonderful singer, she plays piano, harp and concertina, and she does her own arrangements, which were wonderful.

I had only two quibbles: she dropped a lot of the verses on Lady of Shalott, which I suppose she had to do, since it's a rather lengthy song. And she didn't perform "Ce He Mise Le Ulaingt/The Two Trees," based on the poem by Yeats. I've written before about the special significance this poem has for me, here.

But all and all, it was a terrific evening. She performed many of my favorites, including "The Highwayman," "Santiago" (really a showstopper, Hugh Marsh practically burned up his fiddle strings) and "Marco Polo," which I firmly believe is the most erotic song in my entire CD collection.

So . . . I'm not a music critic, nor terribly musically knowledgeable, and so I can't promise mine is a very sophisticated analysis. But hey, I liked it. Can you tell? And I'm very grateful that I had the opportunity to go.

Set list:

Set One
She Moved Through The Fair
The Gates of Istanbul
The Mummer's Dance
Bonny Portmore
Marco Polo
The Highwayman
Dante's Prayer
The Bonny Swans
Caravanserai

Set Two
Raglan Road
The Mystic's Dream
Santiago
The Lady of Shalott
Beneath a Phrygian Sky
The Old Ways
Never Ending Road

There were three encores; I didn't note the songs, sorry.

Follow up on an earlier post (re: Emma Watson's Boobs)

thomtoffner helpfully provides an explanation of what actually happened with that IMAX Order of the Phoenix poster. Emma Watson was NOT enhanced photographically. Instead, the two different pieces of artwork were taken from two slightly different camera angles; the shot was filmed with two different angles as part of the 3-D process. See his explanation here. I find his reasoning persuasive.

So: no nefarious sexist reasons, folks, just camera/3-D technology. Thanks, thomtoffner!

I am sure you are all relieved. We now return you to our usual high-minded livejournal programming.

This is cool

The coffee addict in me is drooling . . .

Latte Art.

Tutorial here.

Edited to add: jeanineers helpfully provides a video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_KcjxU_lpSk