Reviewed! Citizen Shrapnel & the Lords of Little Egypt, Festival Of Voices …

Review: Citizen Shrapnel & the Lords of Little Egypt, Festival Of Voices, Saturday July 9 at 8.30pm at The Founders Room, Salamanca Arts Centre.

It’s not often I get art recommended to me but Citizen Shrapnel & the Lords of Little Egypt were suggested when visiting the FOV recently. I had been reading “Divine Beauty” by John O’Donohue, the spiritual philosopher, and was not expecting to hear reinforcement: that beauty could bring me into the present, make me discard the ugly things in life and forget about it all in pure enjoyment of the art of poetry set to music. This act did precisely that to me, and like Roberta Flack, I was killed softly, with Michael Shrapnel’s songs.

From ”Blind To The Beauty In This World”:

You touch each moment to mark the passing of time, for there is no greater tragedy, there is no greater crime, than to become blind to the beauty in this world.

The Founders Room is a small converted warehouse in the Hobart docks. Beginning the set with “Nothing’s The Same Without You” the presentation brought to mind piano-driven Berlin cabaret: Michael Shrapnel a large stage presence, arms raised akimbo, hands spread, channelling Jacques Brel,Tom Waits or perhaps late David Bowie in a black suit and striped T-shirt. The form: elegant, intense, restrained and intimate. The content: literate, thoughtful, and theatrical. Rare do these criteria exist together at this altitude. Michael Shrapnel is the pivot point: a mime with accompanying voice.

The set progressed and included the delicate “This World Keeps Spinning”, showcasing vocal arrangements that are both subtle and powerful; this group exploits the lower spectrum of dynamics. When it eventually rises up it’s almost too intense, and then it drops into a silence that makes you feel self-conscious, like you have been dragged unwittingly into overhearing someone’s secret, or you have found their personal diary and read it. This is musical theatre without the need for a tenuous storyline. David McNamara’s piano is a tableau of minimalistic texture, Sean Brady’s drum kit a subtle orchestra of its own…glued together by the warm insistence of Russell Dobie’s bass, accompanied in this concert by Sabine Bester and Jamie Taylor(backup vocals) , Jim Verell, Em Bolton and Adam Davonport Hortle (horns) and Emily Wolfe, Rachel Meyers and Gillian Marsden (strings).

This was a performance that meant something different to everybody, and after the gig I found myself comparing my emotional reaction with others. Most of us realized we had seen something special and rare. Perhaps it is the beauty of Hobart, this city sandwiched between the harbour and its implications of Antarctic wilderness, the mountain looming above, frequently forgotten about in the grand schemes divined by mainland gods, that creates these small masterworks of art that Tasmania so frequently delivers. Is it possible that by ceasing to look ahead and looking deeper inside, or perhaps combining them, we can once again connect with beauty, recognize it, shed our skins and put our faith in something we can’t comprehend? Michael Shrapnel’s music makes me believe in this.

• Listen to Citizen Shrapnel HERE
Roo Friend, (c) 2016