Manchester International Festival @ Opera House, Manchester, 3 July 2009
Antony (Photo: Don Felix Cervantes/PR)
Antony Hegarty walks onto the stage and cuts a dashing figure in a long, flowing white
robe. He stands alone and fragile behind a white veil curtain; the stage is in mist and
largely bereft. There's no sign yet of the Johnsons or the Manchester Camerata.
But this isn't
a solo or acoustic performance. As Antony tenderly offers songs from the his latest
album, The Crying Light, and the sound of a full orchestra envelops this grand auditorium,
there's a sense of Hegarty purposefully detaching himself from the audience.
What are we not allowed to see? What is the big surprise?
The attentive Opera House audience sits transfixed during a show that unfurls as a series of
revelations. Curtains drop one by one, revealing more and more of an astonishing set
arranged by respected lighting designers Paul Normandale and Chris Levine.
Though this
isn't a particularly lavish production. Befitting the delicate music on which it is based,
the entire show is a perfect representation of understated elegance and unaffected beauty.
A further curtain raises and the focal point of the set reveals itself.
An illuminated crystal shape hangs above Antony's head. The rest of the stage is
largely darkened. He explains its relevance with a typically charming
coyness: "These beautiful crystals can be found in the centre of dark mountains, yet
somehow they still hold an inner luminosity." The lonely, luminous figure of Hegarty and
the overhanging crystal are the show's only constants. A setlist that consists of songs
from all three of Antony And The Johnsons' studio albums entrances the audience, but it is
the ever-changing stage aesthetics that leave the greatest impression.
At one juncture, Hegarty stands behind a laser that shines a green beam from a light
gantry towards the stage floor. As the laser slowly glides across the stage, like
some torture instrument from Dr No, it's reflected by an uneven surface that
bounces light across the theatre like an inverted mirror ball. Given its very nature,
Hegarty's music needs little atmospheric enhancement, but these flashes of creative genius
are the perfect accompaniment to the sparsity of the music.
After further curtain raises, the audience is finally able to see the Camerata in all
its glory. Composer Nico Muhly's arrangements allow the orchestra to embellish the latest
album's pared-down arrangements, offering the hushed crowd respectful renditions
that help The Crying Light to come alive. The album's most poignant moments are the set's
highlights. Another World, Dust & Water and Everglade cut through the silence
of the audience like icy guillotines.
The on-stage fireworks continue to stun. During Another World, the entire set gleams
white before being lit by a cosmos of floating red stars. A blue neon bar appears during
the next track. It looks inconspicuous enough, but looking away from it reveals an image
somehow concealed within it. Its irresistible hypnosis draws the gaze throughout the
song.
Although Antony's voice sounds perhaps a little strained, the cumulative effect of
sounds, sights and the intensity of the Opera House's atmosphere prove more than compensation. Standing alone, Antony Hegarty may be a fragile thing, but the strength of his
emotions shine as brightly as the crystal that illuminates the stage.
GIG:
