A friend with too much time on her hands circulates many carey-sharey emails and they all sign off ‘Find what you love and do it til you die’. Judging from the sonic similarity in the many Cassandra Wilson shows I have taken in over the last 15 years, the 55 year old multi-award winning Mississippi chanteuse – dubbed ‘America’s best singer’ by Time Magazine – follows the same principle.
The universe has bequeathed Cassandra Wilson an instrument of rare and compelling quality. When she opens her mouth one is enveloped and embraced by golden richness. It’s like a drug. One wants more. The voice is commanding but not by force or heat – it commands by depth. One knows the voice will give and give and keep giving. It’s a very good feeling.
Cassandra Wilson knows this is her strength and relaxes into it. It seems she doesn’t have to work too hard – it is what it is: warm, rich, deep, velvety, inviting, smoky, commanding, swampy, earthy…
Barefoot and gently shimmering in a loose-fitting gown of forest green, taupe and sienna, the diva floated through an evening of rich storytelling, drawing on a repertoire encompassing pop, country, blues, jazz and African elements. The title track to her recent CD, Another Country, was a highlight – the ensemble buzzing around Wilson like bees around their queen, providing a multi-layered backdrop to her soaring melody. Halfway through the second set a hypnotic African chant of gentle complexity unfolded – like a microscopic view of an insect world, teeming with life and fascination. The focus zoomed in on master percussionist Mino Cinelu, who cooked up a mesmerising rhythmic gumbo, accelerating into a rabid frenzy. This was a rare moment of freneticism in a soundscape whose spectrum otherwise ranged from the serene to the sensitive.
Wilson introduced each band member by bowing reverently and tapping three salutations at their feet – and well may she pay tribute as she leans heavily on the uber-talented ensemble to provide the substance of the concert. As the fairy queen swayed and sashayed around stage her accompanists traded soloing duties – often for extended lengths. Chromatic harmonica player Gregoire Maret featured with some gargantuan improvisations – which I found clever, nuanced and complex, and which my companion dismissed as ‘music for musicians’! A highlight in the textural palette of this ensemble was the way in which guitarist Brandon Ross and violinist Charlie Burnham worked together to carve out string lines and effects, each subtly complementing the other. Unfortunately from our position in the middle of the stalls the bass sound was boomy and indistinct – a terrible shame given the prowess of Lonnie Plaxico.
Cassandra Wilson’s choices are working for her, and I’m very pleased to report that the packed house demanded an encore, which can be like squeezing life from a statue for some Melbourne audiences. She returned with her signature smooth version of Cyndi Lauper’s ‘Time After Time’, and then with a whispered ‘God bless you’ was gone.
Rating: 4 stars out of 5
Cassandra Wilson
Cassandra Wilson – vocals
Gregoire Maret – harmonica
Brandon Ross – guitars
Charlie Burnham – violin
Lonnie Plaxico – bass
Mino Cinelu – percussion
Hamer Hall, Arts Centre Melbourne
9 June
