Adelaide Fringe review 2017: My Leonard Cohen
MASTER of musical tribute shows Stewart D’Arrietta returns to put his superbly original spin on the catalogue of yet another artist, this time literally wearing his Leonard Cohen hat — and suit.
My Leonard Cohen
Music *****
The GC — Showroom One, until March 12
MASTER of musical tribute shows Stewart D’Arrietta returns to put his superbly original spin on the catalogue of yet another artist, this time literally wearing his Leonard Cohen hat — and suit.
Perhaps best-known for his oft-revived John Lennon show with actor John Waters, Looking Through A Glass Onion, D’Arrietta has also paid homage to Jacques Brel and created two shows built around the work of Tom Waits, with more than a touch of that singer’s gravelly intonation finding its way into this show as well.
Through succinct anecdotes and personal observations, D’Arrietta manages to paint thoroughly engaging portraits of his subjects, without resorting to lengthy biographical detail or chronological order. He welcomes us into the “Church of Leonard’’ with all its inherent explorations of God, life after death, and the soul.
Most importantly, he and his extraordinary band bring Cohen’s songs to life in a way that surpasses mere imitation, altering arrangements and infusing them with a new energy that drives the emotional narrative of the show.
A dash of accordion and thunderous piano chords lead into a rollicking rendition of Everybody Knows, with the volume perfectly set for the size of the room.
D’Arrietta adds a more medieval flavour to the sparse ballad beauty of Famous Blue Raincoat, a rolling wave of keys underpinning the Tower of Song and acoustic flourishes on Suzanne, while Dance Me to the End of Love becomes a dark, tempestuous combination of waltz, sea shanty and broken carousel music.
So Long, Marianne turns into a German beer hall singalong, there’s some frantic polka on Closing Time, fiery fury for an apocalyptic The Future, tasty tango on First We Take Manhattan and an unexpected level of rock-fuelled angst on Hallelujah.
Patrick McDonald