
I nabbed my gal last night and took her to see Mariza at Lisner Auditorium in D.C. Mariza is one of the leading lights in the Fado world and she put on a lovely show. You know you’re enjoying it when you go through a 1:45-minute set and don’t understand a word (aside from her lovely version of Smile toward the end). As you’d expect from someone of her caliber, she had a fantastic band with her (Portuguese guitar player*, acoustic guitar, acoustic bass, percussionist, and sometime keyboard/trumpet player). The stage set, with everyone but her seated in a broad semi-circle, grew on me as the show moved along – the players all get a bit insider joke-y as the show went on and were clearly enjoying themselves. The percussionist and Portuguese guitar player, in particular, stood out for me. Mariza was engaging throughout with the between-song dialogue beautifully weaved in when needed. One of the last songs they performed – just her, and the two guitarists, sans amplification – was brilliant. She introduced it as a taste of how she (and they, no doubt) started out playing in tavernas of Lisboa. We were in the fourth row so close enough to fully enjoy the singing and playing. I should be able to give her voice a full review but my skills in that area are questionable. She sounded brilliant to my amateur ears and I guess that’s good enough.
I’m not sure what to make of this – I don’t want to influence folks too much – but, not only is the ‘happening’ perfectly normal in the world but the comments are priceless. Should I be worried that I don’t see death as such a problem that I can laugh at comments? I certainly would have stayed to watch the outcome. I guess there’s some warning required but it’s not gruesome or bloody.
T
* both the guitar, a Portuguese guitar, and the player, a Portuguese player, apply here.
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