When Diana Krall trembles, the Botanist shivers | Culture

Let’s say it officially: Madrid love Diana Krall. Another thing is that love is reciprocal, because no one said that things from the heart always happen smoothly and two-way. The undisputed dominatrix of female vocal jazz of the last quarter of a century landed this Sunday at the Noches del Botánico with the game won in advance, the paper pulverized at the box office (2,300 spectators, all seated) and an audience that aspired to rediscover a voice missed since before the pandemic. And the Canadian returned the favor with that touch of shyness, or restraint, which sometimes torments her on stage, as if letting herself be loved was not a completely plethoric sensation in her artistic imagination. Despite everything, he ended up giving us 125 minutes of big gig; the never seen, by extension and intensity, down to memory.

This time there were good reasons for relaxation. No one had come to discover Diana, but to recreate with her and all that she represents: elegance, subtlety, gentleness. The British Columbia leading lady hasn’t released an album in a few seasons, but in fact This dream of you (2020) was just a sequel to Increase the silence (2017), the remaining material from those sessions with his great mentor, Tommi Lipuma, who died just before seeing this work on the shelves. Diana therefore did not have to present a premiere or manage any mortgages in the directory. He could move freely and with the wind in his favor, just on the last date of his tour. Delight us, delight us. And when he manages to deactivate the emotional parking brake, the result is adorable.

Diana Krall, accompanied by her band, during her performance at Noches del Botánico, Madrid.Víctor Moreno (Nights of the Botanist)

The singer and pianist sits in front of the keyboard without rituals or preambles for the inauguration where or when, a Rodgers and Hart classic that springs from him rather languidly. It is intoned by I don’t know enough about you Yes All or nothing at all, with long instrumental interludes and already with his three companions dedicated to the task. A let’s fall in love, by Harold Arlen, gives it a whispery, meandering treatment, while Anthony Wilson gives silky caresses on the guitar. But the real click only happens when I got used to her face, another of those paradigmatic titles from the Great American Songbook, but not one of the most recurring in the tour’s repertoire. Well, Krall approaches it from a very subtle perspective, with the first verse in complete solitude and the accompanying trio then wrapping it up with drum brushes and lots of yellow and little nail face to the strings. It’s half past ten and, suddenly, the silence thickens in the garden, the tumult of footsteps subsides in the bleachers and even the night itself shudders when Diana exhales her final trembling.

It always happens that one seeks to determine the scope of great loves: it is important to tremble. Krall multiplies his excellence when he parks his desire for perfectionism and leaves the door open to the unexpected. It suits him very well, for example, that his usual stopover in the (sublime) Tom Waits songbook this time is not in a piece of troubled love, but in this rogue and fiery monument that is Full Bourbon Jockey, whose drummer, Karriem Riggins, reserves beautiful percussion and nothing spectacular. But things will go even better with the devil may carethe most choral and participative piece of the evening, and perhaps also the most acclaimed.

From In the wee hours of the morning, submerged and at the time of the recital, the emotion already appears intimately mixed with melancholy. Krall merges Sinatra’s piece with a beautiful piano adaptation of Another day, one of those dozens of works of art in Paul McCartney’s catalog which, given the profusion of his genius, goes almost unnoticed. And in these we realize that Macca has just turned 80, the exciting first July in the city since 2019 has just slipped through our fingers, and it’s time to travel – or maybe – to be strolling – again, as Hal Kemp would say (and I would say paraphrasing Sabina), along the boulevard of shattered dreams.

Boulevard of Broken Dreams This will eventually silence even the birds. Sublime Wilson on the acoustic guitar, making every note shiver, accentuating the touch and sliding of the fingers of the left hand. precedes a Cheek to cheek very dislocated and mischievous, purposely chaotic, delirious in these stretched and contracted bars, Robert Hurst gives himself the pleasure of stopping time, and not only the tempo, with his transfer of notes into the neck of the double bass. Too bad the coda stretches more than is prudent and, above all, necessary, so before the encore there was a rout in this gallery which yesterday did not stop screaming and swing.

For it This dream of you (2009), this late masterpiece by Dylan, ended up spilling its twilight beauty on an already somewhat half-baked place. It was nice to end the meeting, and until the 47th day of these Botanical Nights, with a song about an impossible love; the one that between Madrid and Diana Krall still threatens to happen. Even if, after evenings like yesterday, it is impossible not to maintain the flame of hope. Incidentally, the results of the festival, already at dawn, spoke of 70 artists (including main artists and first parties) and 120,000 tickets sold, at the rate of more than 2,500 per evening on average, against 90,300 during the 2019 edition. .With height, hey, how it looks.

All the culture that accompanies you awaits you here.



Literary news analyzed by our best critics in our weekly newsletter


Theodore Davis

"Entrepreneur. Amateur gamer. Zombie advocate. Infuriatingly humble communicator. Proud reader."

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.