August 04, 2014

Publication title: dwf.com, vol. -, Iss. -, pg. –
Place: Dallas
Writer: Preston Jones

Review: Sarah McLachlan at Winspear Opera House

To attend a Sarah McLachlan concert is to observe a master’s class in fan service.

From conducting Facebook contests to allow fans a seat on stage (one woman even dared sing a few bars of Angel alongside McLachlan) to fielding an array of questions submitted at the merch table, not to mention her own “I’m OK, you’re OK” quasi-pep talks every so often, the Canadian singer-songwriter is nothing if not gracious to her audience.

And Sunday, as she concluded the U.S. leg of her tour supporting her new LP, Shine On, at the Winspear Opera House, it was clear the love flowed both ways.

A near-capacity audience sat in rapt silence, letting the nearly two-and-a-half hour set, cleaved by a 20-minute intermission, simply wash over them.

Backed by a crisp quartet amid a tastefully designed stage, evoking a rock concert as conceived by Restoration Hardware, the 46-year-old Grammy winner, who mentioned a few times she was beginning to lose her voice, sounded anything but strained throughout.

McLachlan warned everyone up front there would be some new material mixed in with the familiar favorites — she eventually performed nearly all of Shine On, judiciously spacing out the fresh songs — and related how making music, throughout all of her life’s complexities in the last few years (divorce and the death of her father), had reminded her “this is my purpose.”

It’s a sentiment easily snarked upon, but when McLachlan opens her mouth and lets fly with her crystalline soprano — as she did on the stunning Fear, late in her second set — any snide remarks about a self-help pop star tend to wither and blow away.

McLachlan has sustained a two-decade (and counting) career largely on the strength of her ability to synthesize broad human emotions (love, anger, sadness) into intimate pop-rock songs loaded with lush melodies, a surprising amount of energy and a willingness to let her feelings carry her where they will.

The shouts of adulation rang out from all corners of the Winspear Sunday — “You’re a gift!” one woman cried midway through — and rather than feeling desperate and/or irritating, they felt almost necessary. For many in attendance, silently mouthing the words to Sweet Surrender or losing themselves in the bracing guitar solos of Possession, McLachlan’s performance was nothing short of cathartic.

For all the accommodations she provides her fans — posing for selfies mid-set; leading the audience in a rendition of Happy Birthday for one fan — perhaps the most consistent service she provides is an outlet, a place for a diverse collection of individuals to concentrate their anxieties and joys.

Sarah McLachlan is, then, perhaps a true rarity in rock: the selfless star, giving as much as she receives, an endless loop of reciprocity laced with song.