To see video from last night's show, click here.
GRAND PRAIRIE -- The hush was not unlike the sort found in sanctuaries and synagogues.
It was an almost religious silence, albeit one occasionally punctuated by cheers, whistles and fervent applause.
It's a rare day when a North Texas audience can shut up long enough to appreciate whatever music's being made in front of them, but Jon "Jonsi" Birgisson is precisely the sort of artist that elicits awed stillness. During his roughly 75-minute set Monday night at the Verizon Theatre, the absence of chatter allowed for one of the year's most stirring performances to unfold largely unblemished. Birgisson is best known for his work with Icelandic post-rock icons Sigur Ros (themselves veterans of a still-discussed gig at Bass Hall in 2006), which traffics in sonic paradoxes; minimalist soundscapes explode into lush, cinematic climaxes. In 2009, Birgisson first ventured beyond his day job, releasing the mostly instrumental Riceboy Sleeps and, earlier this year, Go, a slender, albeit more accessible, follow-up.
Whereas Sigur Ros often seems majestic to the point of being glacial, there's a folk-pop flexibility to Birgisson's solo output that feels positively freeing. He tore through all of Go, with help from a band of between four and five members. The thickets of sound -- piano piled atop guitar wedged into xylophone mashed on top of heavily processed vocals -- were rendered cleanly; the dynamic backdrops (Birgisson employed shifting video projections that depicted everything from raging fires to hectic swarms of ants) married perfectly with the often striking songs. Absent the peculiarity present in most Sigur Ros tunes (the band employs a made-up language, Hopelandic; Birgisson sings much of his solo material in English), Birgisson relied instead upon a more subdued dynamic. That said, songs like Tornado, with its devastatingly gorgeous instrumental opener, packed an astonishing amount of power.
Clad simply in a patchwork tunic, Birgisson scarcely said four words to the rapt audience all night. But then, so much of what he was conveying had such a richness and potency that any attempts at small talk would've shattered the illusion -- Birgisson was fashioning a tangible world out of melody and mood, solemnity and joy. The evening was filled with soaring tableaux as Birgisson tempered the unpredictable wildness with a child-like naivete. It was a formidable display of skill -- that unforgettable, piercing falsetto fluttering up and out into the half-light -- and one which lingered pleasingly long after the lights came up.
Those savvy enough to arrive early witnessed fireworks of an entirely different sort. Openers Mountain Man -- the name's a bit of a gotcha; the Vermont-formed trio is all women -- delivered one of the most impressive showings I've seen so far this year. From first note to last, Mountain Man displayed a fearsome skill that marks them as talents to watch. Often relying on little more than their startlingly powerful voices and spare, ghostly acoustic guitar, Molly Erin Sarle, Alexandra Sauser-Monnig and Amelia Randall Meath spent a half hour approximating the sonic traditions of American folk music for the Urban Outfitters set. High, close, vivid harmonies sent thrills of pleasure racing up the spine and Mountain Man enjoyed a luxury almost never visited upon an opening act: the same courteous silence extended to the headliner.
Here is some video I shot last night of Jonsi and the opening act, Mountain Man.
