February 13, 2009

Publication title: -, vol. -, Iss. -, pg. –
Place: Unknown
Writer: Unknown

Drum Roll

The One Year Countdown concert opened with a bang – well, actually, a bit of bhangra – as drummers from different cultures including the Four Host First Nations beat out a rousing call for unity. “No matter where you’re livin’. No matter where you from. This world comes together, always bound by the drum,” was the beatboxing rapper’s refrain.

In the presence of IOC president Jaques Rogge, Premier Gordon Campbell, Mayor Gregor Robertson and a host of other dignitaries, a surprisingly down home night of entertainment followed.

Punctuated by a terminally irritating emcee, who delivered most of the commentary in French with no translation, the various acts shuffled on and off the stage in full view of the audience. No one was expecting a stadium light show, but something a little slicker than a high school talent night would have been nice.

Nova Scotia’s Joel Plaskett performed with his dad, Bill, introducing many of the tracks from his forthcoming triple-album. Clearly uncomfortable in the concert hall environs of the Queen Elizabeth Theatre, Plaskett’s incessant chatter only highlighted his nerves. Even he seemed surprised that he managed to besmirch the city of Kelowna within a few bars of his opening song. Hopefully he’ll have collected himself before he plays Whistler’s Village Square later.

Alberta Ballet’s excerpt from The Fiddle and the Drum, with music by Joni Mitchell and choreography by Jean Grand-Maître, elevated the first half of the programme. The environmental theme gave the evening a valuable context, the dancers bridging effortlessly between classical and contemporary moves.

The room was equally rapt in the presence of virtuoso violinist Adrain Anantawan, the only complaint one might generate from his exquisite recital was that it was far too short.

Accompanied by the sultry vocals of his wife, Melissa McLelland, Luke Doucet sang much of his set in French. It didn’t seem entirely natural: “If I didn’t have a French last name, I wouldn’t be doing this tonight, I can tell you,” he said.

“It’s been a hell of a year,” said Sarah McLachlan as she sat down at the piano. “It feels so good to back up here singing again.”

The audience was clearly with her on that, peppering her set with whoops and shouts of “I love you, Sarah”. Very relaxed on home turf, McLachlan hardly flinched when someone made a reference to her marriage break up, yelling, “You don’t even need a drummer.”

Instead she gave a wry smile:, and muttered: “I’d better pretend I didn’t hear that.”

If the standing ovation she received felt entirely sincere, the cumulative impression of the evening was that this was not so much a concert in its own right, but a showreel of future attractions. An elaborate trailer of Canada’s cultural worth, for the benefit of the IOC and the eyes of the world.