Kimmo Pohjonen - City Recital Hall, Angel Place Sydney, Jan 18 2008
Photo: Vertti Teräsvuori from http://www.kimmopohjonen.com/
Pat Mastelotto once commented that Kimmo Pohjonen “is the devil” and during many parts of Friday night’s Pohjonen solo performance I was convinced he was not kidding in that assessment. But Kimmo’s joke filled pre-encore address to the audience and my brief “meet and greet” with the man following the event revealed the complete opposite. Satan could never be so nice, surely?
But that was the ending. Let’s start at the beginning if you’ll permit me to ramble…
After spending a couple of hours in my favourite obscure city CD haunts (there goes the budget and New Year’s resolution!) I arrived to pick up my tickets at the venue - Sydney’s City Recital Hall, more commonly known simply by its street address as “Angel Place” and most famous as the magnificent home of the Australian Chamber Orchestra – a little bit before seven. This was just prior to the starting time for the first performance of the evening, a 75 minute presentation by the Iiro Rantala New Trio featuring Rantala with Marzi Nyman and Felix Renger.
Rantala and Pohjonen’s shows were being presented as a “double-bill” night of Finnish contemporary music in conjunction with the three week long Sydney Festival. As can be expected with such events the (A Reserve) tickets were not cheap at $55 + BF. Well and truly worth it, but the festival’s organisers had cunningly decided to split the night into two separate billings. This was the first “double bill” I’ve ever heard of where you had to pay twice to see both acts! They even had the one programme printed up in keeping with the “double bill” charade. How rude! All this meant that I could not justify the additional expense of seeing the first half of the bill at those prices, especially as I was not at all familiar with Rantala’s work.
On paper his group certainly appeared to be an interesting prospect though, so I was pleased to find out that a last-tix booth would be selling any unsold tickets on the day for the much more appealing supplementary cost of $25. Unfortunately for me this single booth would only be open between 9 and 12 on the day, would not sell tickets via phone/internet/etc, and was located in a position away from the venue that I could not get to at that time. But here I was at the venue’s ticket booth immediately prior to show start and I thought it was worth asking if they had any tickets left. They did, but they then told me they would only sell them to me at full price. I pointed out that the same tickets were selling at $25 earlier in the day and the show was about to start but they wouldn’t budge, so away I walked with the money in my pocket. If you ask me (which you didn’t) it seems a silly policy to prefer empty seats to a willing sale at the official discount rate (which is not haggling IMO) at the last minute, but no harm, no foul. Oh well.
After retreating to my brother-in-law’s house for a meal and to freshen up I made my way back to Angel Place for the main event. By now my excitement level had reached the nervous twitching stage, checking the time every thirty seconds or so to ensure the train wasn’t running late and unable to keep still in my seat, but I made it back in plenty of time to check in my bag and brolly and peruse the merchandise stand. I had been hoping they might have Kimmo’s solo CD Kielo on sale at the show as his CDs are damn difficult to obtain in this country and mighty expensive to import too. I was totally gobsmacked to see every major Pohjonen release available to buy! Kielo, Kluster, KTU, Kalmuk, Uumen and the Kalmuk DVD all lined up in neat little piles right in my reach. Oh what to do? After some careful consideration, and probably a little bit of uncontrolled drooling, I was soon equipped with a copy of the Kluster and Kielo CDs and an official “double bill” programme with my wallet $78 dollars lighter in exchange. Ouch! Kalmuk and Uumen will have to wait their turn for another day it seems. The merch stand people responded to my enthusiasm quickly, asking me lots of questions about the various CDs and DVD. They had no idea what they were selling! A few people overheard my assessment and made their way over to the stand and started showing a previously non-displayed interest in the merchandise.
This lack of knowledge of Pohjonen was a recurrent theme of the night as once I was seated (eight rows back and far off to the left) I found myself literally surrounded by the Pohjonen ignorant. The lady in the next seat noticed me looking at my recent acquisitions and asked me what he was like. My response generated a flurry of questions from all sides (including someone asking me if I was Finnish! Yeah mate, ‘ken oath!). It was apparent that the bulk of the audience was not at all familiar with Pohjonen and must have been Angel Place or Sydney Festival subscribers or last tix purchasers. I remember rambling something about Kimmo being one of the best classical accordionists in the world but you often forget that in his performances due to his focus on “primal energy” or some wank like that and then the show started.
A simple house call announced his arrival on stage and after the usual applause and gracious bows Kimmo began by playing a serious of intricate arpeggiated accordion flurries at ever increasing speed. The sound was crystal clear and very little post effects were added to the mix. I immediately felt like a fool for my primal energy comment as this was a man clearly demonstrating his expertise on his instrument. This was not what I was expecting, but bloody marvellous nonetheless. Pleasant applause followed this uplifting start to the evening.
But that was the ending. Let’s start at the beginning if you’ll permit me to ramble…
After spending a couple of hours in my favourite obscure city CD haunts (there goes the budget and New Year’s resolution!) I arrived to pick up my tickets at the venue - Sydney’s City Recital Hall, more commonly known simply by its street address as “Angel Place” and most famous as the magnificent home of the Australian Chamber Orchestra – a little bit before seven. This was just prior to the starting time for the first performance of the evening, a 75 minute presentation by the Iiro Rantala New Trio featuring Rantala with Marzi Nyman and Felix Renger.
Rantala and Pohjonen’s shows were being presented as a “double-bill” night of Finnish contemporary music in conjunction with the three week long Sydney Festival. As can be expected with such events the (A Reserve) tickets were not cheap at $55 + BF. Well and truly worth it, but the festival’s organisers had cunningly decided to split the night into two separate billings. This was the first “double bill” I’ve ever heard of where you had to pay twice to see both acts! They even had the one programme printed up in keeping with the “double bill” charade. How rude! All this meant that I could not justify the additional expense of seeing the first half of the bill at those prices, especially as I was not at all familiar with Rantala’s work.
On paper his group certainly appeared to be an interesting prospect though, so I was pleased to find out that a last-tix booth would be selling any unsold tickets on the day for the much more appealing supplementary cost of $25. Unfortunately for me this single booth would only be open between 9 and 12 on the day, would not sell tickets via phone/internet/etc, and was located in a position away from the venue that I could not get to at that time. But here I was at the venue’s ticket booth immediately prior to show start and I thought it was worth asking if they had any tickets left. They did, but they then told me they would only sell them to me at full price. I pointed out that the same tickets were selling at $25 earlier in the day and the show was about to start but they wouldn’t budge, so away I walked with the money in my pocket. If you ask me (which you didn’t) it seems a silly policy to prefer empty seats to a willing sale at the official discount rate (which is not haggling IMO) at the last minute, but no harm, no foul. Oh well.
After retreating to my brother-in-law’s house for a meal and to freshen up I made my way back to Angel Place for the main event. By now my excitement level had reached the nervous twitching stage, checking the time every thirty seconds or so to ensure the train wasn’t running late and unable to keep still in my seat, but I made it back in plenty of time to check in my bag and brolly and peruse the merchandise stand. I had been hoping they might have Kimmo’s solo CD Kielo on sale at the show as his CDs are damn difficult to obtain in this country and mighty expensive to import too. I was totally gobsmacked to see every major Pohjonen release available to buy! Kielo, Kluster, KTU, Kalmuk, Uumen and the Kalmuk DVD all lined up in neat little piles right in my reach. Oh what to do? After some careful consideration, and probably a little bit of uncontrolled drooling, I was soon equipped with a copy of the Kluster and Kielo CDs and an official “double bill” programme with my wallet $78 dollars lighter in exchange. Ouch! Kalmuk and Uumen will have to wait their turn for another day it seems. The merch stand people responded to my enthusiasm quickly, asking me lots of questions about the various CDs and DVD. They had no idea what they were selling! A few people overheard my assessment and made their way over to the stand and started showing a previously non-displayed interest in the merchandise.
This lack of knowledge of Pohjonen was a recurrent theme of the night as once I was seated (eight rows back and far off to the left) I found myself literally surrounded by the Pohjonen ignorant. The lady in the next seat noticed me looking at my recent acquisitions and asked me what he was like. My response generated a flurry of questions from all sides (including someone asking me if I was Finnish! Yeah mate, ‘ken oath!). It was apparent that the bulk of the audience was not at all familiar with Pohjonen and must have been Angel Place or Sydney Festival subscribers or last tix purchasers. I remember rambling something about Kimmo being one of the best classical accordionists in the world but you often forget that in his performances due to his focus on “primal energy” or some wank like that and then the show started.
A simple house call announced his arrival on stage and after the usual applause and gracious bows Kimmo began by playing a serious of intricate arpeggiated accordion flurries at ever increasing speed. The sound was crystal clear and very little post effects were added to the mix. I immediately felt like a fool for my primal energy comment as this was a man clearly demonstrating his expertise on his instrument. This was not what I was expecting, but bloody marvellous nonetheless. Pleasant applause followed this uplifting start to the evening.
Then Kimmo’s body started twitching and all hell broke loose.
Somewhere around ten minutes into the performance, during the second or third piece (many segues and lots of new material made it hard to tell when pieces ended and began), Kimmo arrived. The lights went a deep crimson red, the smoke thickened, the chanting and screaming and insane muttering echoed unto eternity, the impossible sub-bass growl, densely packed chords and complex polyphony combined with the wheezing of the bellows sounded as if it would rip apart the very fabric of space-time and for all the world it appeared as though we were witnessing a man’s personal descent into the very depths of hell.
And it was wonderful.
Around this point I began to worry what the rest of the crowd were thinking. This was a classical venue, during an “arts” festival, and a highbrow crowd to boot. Such an intense aural assault (in surround sound no less) is probably not something usually found in such circumstances and I was worried people would start to leave. My fears were ungrounded as by the time Kimmo had wound down once more people were cheering, yelling and whooping in delight. Suddenly this was a classical venue no longer. The restraints of formality had been removed and Kimmo held the keys aloft.
Throughout the next 75 minutes Kimmo proceeded to pull every sound imaginable from his accordion and voicebox. Tapping, clicking, booming, growling, singing (yes, real, beautiful singing), chanting, whistling, humming, muttering and droning his way around the stage, all the while creating layer upon layer of carefully constructed sound. But these layers never rested on their laurels, careful and precise planned footwork turned these layers into complex and fully formed compositions. A loop-fest this was not. Just how Kimmo composes in this way amazes me. And I am none the wiser having seen the process in action. Pure genius.
One of many highlights of the show was an intense affair with Kimmo ditching the accordion completely and working purely with his voice. Standing up and running around the stage like a madman on a journey through a particularly violent mental episode it became apparent why Pohjonen considers his non-musical training in shamanistic trance as important as his official musical education at the Sibelius Academy. When Kimmo clicks from calm to hysterical in a split second it is so convincing and believable because Kimmo is truly living that moment 100%.
The final piece of the night had Kimmo once again in full, manic, accordion-threatening, screaming, deafening flight, and I’d have to agree with the reviewer who wrote that when seeing Kimmo like this you can’t help but be concerned for his safety. The crowd’s response, however, was rapturous. Many (including me) were standing and yelling with delight; clapping until our hands were red and sore. An encore had to be done. Not one person made way for the exit. The madman had made too many friends.
And then we come back to the beginning of this story, the other Kimmo gracing the stage with humour, grace and good cheer, and another magnificent performance to see out the night, though this time Kimmo the devil remaining under wraps.
In short, do everything in your power to see a Pohjonen solo show. Without collaboration, whether it is with KTU, or Kluster, or the recent Uniko project his unique talents are revealed and exposed to the extreme.
And they are overwhelming.
Somewhere around ten minutes into the performance, during the second or third piece (many segues and lots of new material made it hard to tell when pieces ended and began), Kimmo arrived. The lights went a deep crimson red, the smoke thickened, the chanting and screaming and insane muttering echoed unto eternity, the impossible sub-bass growl, densely packed chords and complex polyphony combined with the wheezing of the bellows sounded as if it would rip apart the very fabric of space-time and for all the world it appeared as though we were witnessing a man’s personal descent into the very depths of hell.
And it was wonderful.
Around this point I began to worry what the rest of the crowd were thinking. This was a classical venue, during an “arts” festival, and a highbrow crowd to boot. Such an intense aural assault (in surround sound no less) is probably not something usually found in such circumstances and I was worried people would start to leave. My fears were ungrounded as by the time Kimmo had wound down once more people were cheering, yelling and whooping in delight. Suddenly this was a classical venue no longer. The restraints of formality had been removed and Kimmo held the keys aloft.
Throughout the next 75 minutes Kimmo proceeded to pull every sound imaginable from his accordion and voicebox. Tapping, clicking, booming, growling, singing (yes, real, beautiful singing), chanting, whistling, humming, muttering and droning his way around the stage, all the while creating layer upon layer of carefully constructed sound. But these layers never rested on their laurels, careful and precise planned footwork turned these layers into complex and fully formed compositions. A loop-fest this was not. Just how Kimmo composes in this way amazes me. And I am none the wiser having seen the process in action. Pure genius.
One of many highlights of the show was an intense affair with Kimmo ditching the accordion completely and working purely with his voice. Standing up and running around the stage like a madman on a journey through a particularly violent mental episode it became apparent why Pohjonen considers his non-musical training in shamanistic trance as important as his official musical education at the Sibelius Academy. When Kimmo clicks from calm to hysterical in a split second it is so convincing and believable because Kimmo is truly living that moment 100%.
The final piece of the night had Kimmo once again in full, manic, accordion-threatening, screaming, deafening flight, and I’d have to agree with the reviewer who wrote that when seeing Kimmo like this you can’t help but be concerned for his safety. The crowd’s response, however, was rapturous. Many (including me) were standing and yelling with delight; clapping until our hands were red and sore. An encore had to be done. Not one person made way for the exit. The madman had made too many friends.
And then we come back to the beginning of this story, the other Kimmo gracing the stage with humour, grace and good cheer, and another magnificent performance to see out the night, though this time Kimmo the devil remaining under wraps.
In short, do everything in your power to see a Pohjonen solo show. Without collaboration, whether it is with KTU, or Kluster, or the recent Uniko project his unique talents are revealed and exposed to the extreme.
And they are overwhelming.
posted by Owen at 9:56 AM
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