BY STEPHANIE ESLAKE
Missy Higgins and the Tasmanian Symphony Orchestra
Wrest Point Lawns, 15 February
It was the perfect night for a concert. I huddled with a friend among the crowd which had started to gather on the greens of Wrest Point. The River Derwent reflected an overcast sky, but it wasn’t too cool – and an oddly placed rosemary bush added a comforting scent to the evening air around us.
The Missy Higgins and Tasmanian Symphony Orchestra performance created one of the calmest mass gatherings I’ve encountered in Hobart. It was the sort of crowd where you’d get away with wearing jeans and a t-shirt. Plenty of couples — who mainly appeared to be aged from their 30s-50s — relaxed on the grounds, sipping red wine at leisure. It was a sold-out affair, and the thousands-strong audience revealed the gentle way Missy enters the lives of those who listen to her music. Her music is touching, but her live performance proved to generate a true sense of community. This is something that can’t be predicted or replicated when listening to a recording.
Missy took to the stage with a long cardigan and white sandshoes – as casual as her listeners – and waved enthusiastically to the crowd before settling at the keyboard. She started with a song she wrote in her 12th year of school, which was called Katie. Her fans immediately sang along, a little too loudly: a vocal show of respect and admiration.
When she finished, she spoke to us: “It’s so fun playing with the orchestra – it’s as if my songs have been turned into a movie soundtrack.”
Indeed, the orchestra provided a very natural boost to her music – when it could be heard at all. The mixing was well-balanced across Missy’s own voice and some select instruments, but the fuller body of the TSO, particularly the strings (and – amazingly – the brass), occasionally became lost to the louder sounds.
Nevertheless, No Secrets brought in a little more presence from the orchestra, and it started warmly with harp and strings. Whether Missy is talking or singing, one gets the feeling she’s inviting us into her friendly and down-to-earth personal life. The word ‘authenticity’ is often overused, but Missy projects it in abundance.
Missy admitted she was nervous to make a mistake with the orchestra behind her. She performed Going North (sweetly dedicated to her mum, who was in the audience) with guitar and a small band – without the orchestra at all. But she made the fault of explaining she didn’t have enough songs for a full orchestral set. This may have given some the impression she’d taken the orchestral arrangements for granted rather than making full use of the program. However, more realistically, this was a show of her humbleness with self-deprecating humour.
The orchestra returned for Everyone’s Waiting, with pizzicato, a string technique that returned in Sweet Arms of a Tune (in which she missed her cue, yielding an encouraging cheer from the audience). To this song, my friend – a singing tutor and contemporary singer-songwriter – wisely observed that because of the inclusion of piano, strings, and singing, there needn’t have been a guitar. And it’s true: the work would have been showstopping without the folky juxtaposition of that instrument.
Many songs on her program, as in the body of her works, were a reflection of her love of family. She sang the first love song she ever wrote, 10 Days, and a song Arrows about her partner as well as her child Sammy. The Special Two, dedicated to her sister, was a moving piece she continues to sing with great sentiment despite the many years since she first composed it. As an only child, the emotion was still not lost on me.
Carry You was a melancholy song about longing, which Missy “fell in love with” (she sang this Tim Minchin song for his TV show Upright). At this point, as the sky started to darken, I noticed many people on their phones were filming the performance to accompany their future memories.
All in My Head was one of my favourites with the orchestra – it had an old-fashioned, 1950s ballad vibe at the verses, before the chorus turned a little country. I also enjoyed Song for Sammy, which Missy released on Mother’s Day for ukulele. This was the first orchestral arrangement of this song (which, she betrayed, she had only rehearsed for “30 seconds”). It’s about motherhood, and a gentle 6/8 feel carried childlike bells, pizzicato strings, bubbly piano, and a fantasy feel with harp. It rocked us all into a lullaby. But its verses also sounded a lot like Paramore’s The Only Exception.
(Though the words she spoke to the audience were imperfect and therefore real, they nevertheless did not show a lack of professionalism on her part as an artist. At this point, it’s important to highlight her ability to hold near-flawless stamina across a lengthy evening outdoor concert, with her remarkable voice coming close to recording-quality. The orchestrations were beautiful, and added a vibrant and joyful touch that enhanced each of her works in which they were present.)
The concert started to wrap up with Futon Couch – one of her newer releases – as well as Cemetery and Warm Whispers. At this point, I’d started to drift and I wondered if this was an intentional “winding-down” feel as the night came to a close. It appeared the volume was also increased, which didn’t compensate for the waning momentum. Scar took us to the well-timed conclusion, though with everyone clapping and singing, it was obviously a pleasure to audiences. They spent minutes repeatedly calling out for an encore, but were not indulged.
Image supplied.
