Wednesday, January 30, 2008

Call Her "Miss Wainwright"

Last night Jodie Sorrell and I went to see the lovely Rufus Wainwright in concert at The State Theatre. Jodie had an extra ticket, and in an extremely kind and generous gesture treated me to the concert! I know, right? Score. It was the first time Jodie and I had ever hung out just the two of us, having met previously through a mutual friend, and we had a hoot of a time!

We began in grand style with some public shaming of ourselves. The support act, a young singer/guitarist from Perth calle Leena, was only mildly engaging with her earnest and complicated folksy songs, and was playing to a half empty theatre. Meanwhile most of the crowd (ie: The Gays and a few others) were still sensibly sipping beverage items in the foyer. Jodie and I sat through her first three numbers or so, and were quietly (we thought) getting our snark on. I mean, does anyone really need to re-tune their guitar before every song? Also, there really isn't any reason to chat to your audience about "this thing that I do" when there is a perfectly good word like "performing" that will suffice.

Anyhoo, to my surprise a tightly wound young woman a few rows in front of us (viewing the concert sans friends it should be noted) turned around and told us to leave if we were going to talk through the entire performance. Well, Leena had one fan in the audience at least. The embarassing thing is, she sort of had a point and I have kind of been that tightly wound person in the past. So we repaired to the gothick splendour of the foyer to get our wine on and look at the pretty boys.



So, the main event. Herr Rufus and his lederhosen. (Actually he started in a sparkly patchwork silk suit with sequins, but the lederhosen made an appearance for the second half.) He was fabulous. He certainly knows how to put on a show, and his little quips and anecdotes, and one song dedication to "the pretty Australian surfer boys" (and then a request for phone numbers if any were in the house) just added to the fun of the show. At one point Jodie turned to me and said "Oh, I've never heard him speak before!". Ha ha! Yes, this boy is camp.



Rufus was particularly enamoured of the splendour of the State Theatre, and proved the acoustics by singing a traditional Irish folk song without the aid of the microphones. This boy can sing out, let me tell you. It was a great moment, and you could have heard a pin (brooch?) drop.



Anyone who is going to see the concert tonight STOP READING NOW.

Ok, are they gone?... Good.

The encores were amazing! After a long closing musical interlude, where the band members exited the stage one by one, they all returned in formal suits and with Rufus in a white robe. Something is up I thought. Yup, at the start of song three of the encore he proceeded to sit front and centre stage and slowly clip on some diamante earrings... then on went some lipstick... then some high heels. The lights dipped and then standing before us was Miss Judy Garland, in black stockings, fitted tuxedo jacket and black fedora! He then belted his way through a spirited perfomance of "C'mon, Get Happy!" while the band members did service as back up dancers.

That my friends is entertainment.

13 comments:

Michael said...

That's the encore we were treated to when he was here. It was MAGIC, right? Only it was outdoors and 95F and I was sitting on a dirt lawn. Yours was much better! That lobby? I could die.

Isn't he the sweetest thang?

The Other Andrew said...

Magic, indeed! Very, very camp magic! The best kind.

The theatre is gorgeous, it's always a joy to go to anything there. That foyer pic is just the outside foyer part, it's just as grand (and slightly trippy in a faux medieval way) in the inside foyers too. The men's room is entered through a sort of hunting lodge hall that seems to be there for no reason, but looks like it should have Freemasons meetings in there or something. It was originally a cinema, from the grand days of over-the-top movie palaces.

Plus the really good thing - you can take your wine in!

thombeau said...

Ooh, that vid I posted a few weeks ago must have been the encore! How fabulous! Good for you, sonny boy!

freakgirl said...

We did not get that encore.

:: pouts ::

I once sat through an opening act so tiresome that I resorted to passing notes to my concert-mate that read simply, "HATE." Later, I posted on my blog about the experience and the singer posted, "You guys are harsh."

Stupid google. Whoops.

Glad you enjoyed the show!

Jodie Sorrell said...

it was freaking awesome!

I have yet to write my review...some of us have work to do ;-)

The Other Andrew said...

Just what are you trying to say Jodie? :)

Freakgirl, eeek. I could be risking the same thing I guess. (Sorry Leena.) The other amusing thing is that there was an email sign-up sheet in the foyer for Leena fans and there was one name on it. We figured it was probably Tightly Wound Girl.

The other thing I neglected to mention is that when Rufus was explaining the backdrop which was like a black & white American flag with glittery brooches instead of stars, he referenced Barry Humphries. And Barry Humphries was in the audience! (Ok, he might have known ahead, but it was still cool.)

IRV said...

Told ya you'd love it!

The Other Andrew said...

You are wise and all knowing irv!

John C said...

Jealous. I love Rufus, and that venue looks great too.

And yes, you have to be careful what you write on blogs, I've had several instances now where the very people I'm discussing in public leave a comment.

The Other Andrew said...

Me too. I try not to diss here too much, so usually the comments have been nice. I wrote about a gay couple who adopted a bunch of kids once and about how much I admired them, and one of the guys commented here. Nice.

freakgirl said...

I am usually pretty careful about blogging and assume that everyone on the planet is reading what I write. I'm conceited that way. ;)

As for the singer I wrote about, I don't feel too badly about it. If she has the right to make me listen to a soft-jazz song about her and her husband having sex in their kitchen, then I have the right to complain about it.

She's probably already written a song about me. Called "Blog Bitch." With lots of finger-snapping and upright bass and bongos.

Okay, I'll stop now.

The Other Andrew said...

Don't stop, you're on a roll!

John C said...

Blog Bitch...with bongos. Sounds like something from a Fifties movie exposing those crazy Beatniks. Ripped from today's headlines!

"Yeah, go Blog Bitch, go, hate me baby, yeah!"

Or something by Russ Meyer: Blog Bitch has huge breasts, false eyelashes and a pen of savage fury!