CONCERT REVIEW: Leonard Cohen gives new life to Old Ideas

A concert by Leonard Cohen is an exercise in humility that each person, no matter how successful or self-assured, should take.

The monument that Leonard Cohen- coined by music critics everywhere as ‘the poet laureate of pessimism,’ ‘the grocer of despair,’ ‘the godfather of gloom’ and ‘the prince of bummers’- has become, brought him legions of followers everywhere but has done nothing to spoil his modesty.

This was the third concert of the Canadian singer, sonwriter and poet in Romania, which was held in support of Old Ideas, his twelfth studio album.

The first part of the show was somewhat shadowed by the constant hustle and bustle of people trying to find their seats, caught unawares by the early start. At 8 sharp, Cohen and his musicians arrived on the stage.

Taking off his hat respectfully to greet the public, Cohen began with the soothing and melancholic Dance Me To The End Of Love, and afterwards quickened up the tempo with The Future.

Of course, it was somewhat difficult to get into the atmosphere while flocks of people were moving to-and-fro striving to find their designated place, while those who already had done so were sitting at the edge of their seats, desperate to catch a glimpse of the stage. In fact, it would be safe to say that the entire first half hour of the show was spoiled by all that commotion.

Bird on the Wire, a track that singer Kris Kristofferson said he wants to serve as his epitaph, was the third song played that evening.

Since he was going to play for three hours, Cohen split the concert in two. Tracks such as Who By The Fire, Darkness, Sisters of Mercy, Amen, Come Healing, Waiting For the Miracle, In My Secret Life, I Can’t Forget and Going Home came before the break.

Tower of Song opened the second part of the concert, and it was followed by Susanne, Heart With No Companion, The Gypsy’s Wife, The Partisan and Democracy.

A superb rendition of Coming Back to You, by ‘the sublime Webb sisters’ (as Cohen referred to two of his female vocalists), and an equally superb version of Alexandra Leaving performed by Sharon Robinson ‘broke’ the show from monotony.

Truth be told, Cohen’s supporting musicians formed an eclectic group, coming from so many different countries- from Spain, England and even the Moldova Republic to New York or Mexico. In fact, thumbs up for a wonderful performance by Alexandru Bublitchi, the violinist from the Moldova Republic, whose interventions enchanted the ears and moved the hearts every single time, as well as for Javier Mas’ acoustic guitar recitals. Mas, born in Zaragoza, Spain, is a long-time collaborator of Cohen, and even served as musical director during Cohen’s tribute concerts in Barcelona in 2006 and 2007.

Surprisingly enough- or not (because this is Leonard Cohen we are talking about), the singer did not leave the stage during the performance of his vocalists, content to sit on the side, holding the hat in his hands, and listen.

He then followed them with I’m Your Man, Hallelujah and Take This Waltz, which should have closed the show.

Pictures by Ciprian Vladut.

But no one was prepared to let him go yet, and gave him a standing ovation, which made Cohen and his musicians return on the stage for an encore which included So Long, Marianne, First We Take Manhattan and Save the Last Dance for Me. By this time, everybody had got out of their seats and rushed to the fence that separated the stage from the public, to see him better during the last three songs.

Even though he played for around three hours- the list of songs just goes on and on- there was no way he could have covered a repertoire of 40 years. Tracks such as A Thousand Kisses deep, Ain’t No Cure for Love, Famous Blue Raincoat, Here It Is and Closing Time were left out. But this did not seem to matter to anyone- after the show, no one was complaining, as one hears after most concerts, that he did not play their favorite song. Probably because there is more than one “favorite” for anyone.

Some years ago, the Canadian singer confessed he had been battling depression for most of his life, even resorting to drugs for a cure. “The recreational, the obsessional and the pharmaceutical – I’ve tried them all. I would be enthusiastically promoting any one of them if they worked,” he once said.

The same condition pushed him to look for peace by spending nearly five years meditating at a Zen retreat in southern California, where he was ordained as a monk and given the Dharma name Jikan, or Silent One.

So, it came as no surprise when, at the end of the show, he wished concert goers: “May you be surrounded by friends and family, but if you are not so lucky, may the blessings find you in your solitude.” (Otilia Haraga)