Irish Timeswriters review MGMT at Academy in Dublin; and Pogostkina, RTÉ NSO/Markson at the NCH, Dublin.
MGMT
Academy, Dublin
THERE IS such a melange of styles fizzing between this hipster-approved Brooklyn duo that those who attempt anything as tiresome as a description of MGMT's music agree only on the need for hyphens: electro-rock fusion, glam-funk assaults or space-prog rock just about cover it.
The happy result of Ben Goldwasser and Andrew Van Wyngarden's rummage through the attic of the 60s and 70s is that you can identify almost any influence within their sprawling tunes without fear of contradiction.
Rolling Stones meet Spacemen 3? I don't see why not. David Bowie by way of Daft Punk? Well, all right then. Queen rumbling along with The Flaming Lips? OK, that's enough.
On the evidence of their ferociously fun display in The Academy, one that begins with a warm buzz of anticipation and concludes with a heaving stage invasion, MGMT may not quite be the sum of their influences, but the computation is enthralling.
Take opener Weekend Wars, on which guitarist and singer Van Wyngarden comes over all Jagger-like, the clenched strut of his vocals soon leaping into falsetto as Goldwasser twists kaleidoscopic arpeggios from his synth, before everything resolves into a hard glam stomp. That's about a decade's worth of musical progression funnelled into four minutes, and the similar lifts of Handshakeand 4th Dimensional Transitionshow how well the band - augmented to an extremely tight five piece - can solder the periods together.
Cohesive as it is, there is a deadpan irony in MGMT's approach that seems a little chilly on record. But, despite a curious penchant for bandanas, they seem less arch in performance. Electric Feel, a strident slice of electro funk, is tonight more glowing than knowing, an unapologetic call to dance.
That playfulness crackles through the euphoric pop of Time to Pretendand the lilting - if rhetorically hollow - revolutionary anthem The Youth. All hell breaks loose over a simple keyboard line and a galvanising bass, though, when Kidsprovokes a giddy, bounding stage invasion. For all the chaos, the music continues unimpeded. Whether it's a roiling sea of influence or a simple matter of crowd control, these guys can manage. - PETER CRAWLEY
Pogostkina, RTÉ NSO/Markson
NCH, Dublin
Wagner - Overture Tannhäuser. Bruch - Violin Concerto No 1. Beethoven - Symphony No 6 "Pastoral".
THIS WAS a traditional symphony concert: overture, concerto, interval, and symphony, all three works drawn from the heart of the great German 19th-century repertoire, all composed within the narrow span of 60 years.
Not so traditional was the playing of Russian-born soloist Alina Pogostkina in the popular Violin Concerto No. 1 in G minor by Max Bruch. Its rich romanticism encompasses strong contrasts, including powerful declamatory passages that the 25-year-old winner of the 2005 International Sibelius Competition nonetheless performed with a surprisingly quiet voice. Imagine Mark Antony's "Friends, Romans, Countrymen" speech delivered sotto voce.
Yet this didn't really come across as a bad thing, such were her exquisite tone, her depth of expression, and her subtlety in little details such as the occasional portamento. And to whatever level of softness she went, principal conductor Gerhard Markson followed so that every note she played was clearly heard.
Tradition was fully restored after the interval with Markson's customary, old-style big-band preference in Beethoven's PastoralSymphony. Here, too, his control and sensitivity meant that the large complement of strings never jeopardised the many fine contributions of the single winds, including sweet evocations of bird song, but most notably in especially soft oboe solos in the third movement.
Nor did Markson overcook anything in Beethoven's programmatic depiction of country scenes, with the rustic dance remaining earthy rather than coarse. - MICHAEL DUNGAN
