I went to see Rice perform last night.

I know I’ve really been moved by something when I walk away and don’t want to talk about it. When I know that words are useless in relaying the experience. It was one of those happenings last night. I just needed space from others to digest the words, the gut-wrenching chords, the lilting harmonies, the understanding, the beauty, the sadness.

A fellow devotee and I had gone out to have a couple of beers before the gig and had ended up in a place of deep conversation on life and our spot within it all. It’s good stuff when you can talk with another and know there sits an underlying honesty between you, when things are not forced or conjured to fit the moment. What I also loved about this was that so much of what we had covered in our discussion was later touched on by Damien as he set about sharing his craft with us.

The gig was within the old Palais Theatre where the audience is seated on antique plush leather chairs. Down on the St Kilda beach this venue exudes the grandeur of a bygone era. I couldn’t imagine the music that Rice creates being thrown out to the mega audience of one of our arenas. He is an artisan, from another age, a craftsman. And his music belongs in a place that honours that and avoids the plasticity of now. He invites one to participate within his enigmatic spectacle.

The moments disappeared into my past like that. Wish you could’ve been there with me.

Sounds wonderful Anna…

Comment by Christina Tuesday 20 February, 2007 @ 11:07 am

Theres nothing quite like catching a splendid performance at an older venue. It lends to a sort of timelessness, especially when the art is genuine like that and not prefabricated fluff. Wish I could’ve caught the show too, sounds like it was one to remember.

Comment by gurzilla Monday 26 February, 2007 @ 7:35 am