Brian Eno is MORE DARK THAN SHARK

INTERVIEWS, REVIEWS & RELATED ARTICLES

Far Out OCTOBER 31, 2023 - by Jordan Potter

BRIAN ENO EVOKES MESMERIC NAUTICAL SOUNDSCAPES AT ROYAL FESTIVAL HALL, LONDON

To call Brian Eno the 'King of Ambient Music' would be selling the man short. After all, he has furnished an elegant career for over half a century with all manner of artistic triumphs bleeding far beyond music, let alone genres. On October 30, during a very special evening at the Royal Festival Hall in London, however, Eno consolidated his vital position in music history as an acute, foundational ear for ambient composition.

After alighting on an eerily quiet platform at Blackfriars, I walked briskly along the Thames' South Bank towards the Royal Festival Hall. Here, too, it was strangely quiet, and spooky Halloween Eve projections on a building adjacent to the BFI enhanced sinister anticipation.

As I cut in from the riverside, a large silhouette approached me before exposing itself as a spitting image of comedian and actor Peter Serafinowicz. In such situations, I encounter mild frustration that I might never know for sure whether it was said celebrity. Alas, I headed on to the venue, recalling Serafinowicz's zombie character from Shaun Of The Dead and thinking how apt it was that he, of all people, should appear on this hauntingly hallowed eve.

Having met my friend and seen to a couple of pints, we entered the main auditorium, where we were glad to find an impressive age range among attendees: a testament to Eno's enduring relevance. The hum of chatter soon abated as the first synthesised sounds resounded in the hall, and members of the Baltic Sea Philarmonic stepped furtively onto the stage, only the glimmer of flutes betraying the dark illusion.

Primarily a celebratory performance of Eno's 2016 album The Ship, the orchestra began the evening with the title track's nautical scene. As someone who adores the original studio album, I can't stress enough how glad I am to have experienced this four-part LP in a live orchestral aurora. With a healthy stock of percussionists, cellists, harpists and flautists, the Baltic Sea Philarmonic created the sonic illusion of a ship at sea under the animated guidance of Kristjan Järvi, the conductor whom Eno would later affectionately dub the ship's captain.

Through the album's first two lengthy compositions, the ship creaked and groaned over stormy seas, with the audience suspended in mesmeric wonder. An impressively dynamic light show tracked the intricacies of the music, at times subtle and granular, at others mimicking the monolithic intensity of a crescendo.

Eno, taking an elevated, central position on the stage - the crow's nest, if you will - created most of the synthesised textures throughout, sporadically exercising his vocals for more word-dense compositions to come.

When we wove through a kaleidoscopic tapestry of moonlight on waves to Fickle Sun (II) The Hour Is Thin, a large gentleman emerged from a seat in the glimmering darkness of the stage to perform the song's spoken-word lyrics. A deep, sonorous voice soothed our ears, and I could tell at once that it was the same voice heard on the studio album.

Finally, the Velvet Underground cover, Fickle Sun (III) I'm Set Free, capped off the first movement in a performance of enhanced poignance following the ten-year anniversary of Lou Reed's death last week. As the music wound to a gentle close, Eno addressed the audience for the first time, rousing applause for his fellow performers. When he announced his deep-voiced orator as Peter Serafinowicz, I was relieved by the verification that it was not a doppelganger whom I had passed an hour or so prior.

The applause was rapturous, but there were still many highlights to come: one, of course, being By This River, a bonafide classic of the Eno canon reproduced in full orchestral splendour. I'm intensely familiar with the stand-out track from 1977's Before And After Science, but nothing could prepare me for the neck hair-raising qualities of a live rendition. After the performance, Eno explained that the song was nearly fifty years old. "I wish I was that old," he chuckled.

Although much of the evening had been filled with plaintive, emotional music, the ship encountered more affecting waters in the encore. Bone Bomb, as Eno explained, was a haunting musical reference to suicide bombers involved in past conflicts between Israel and Palestine. He explained that, although he wrote the song a couple of decades ago, its message is sadly more pertinent today than ever.

Introducing a version of Making Gardens Out Of Silence adapted to fit the current state of global affairs, Eno noted that more children have died since the recent outbreak of war in Gaza than in all global conflicts since 2019. To a chorus of support from the audience, he urged aid for those affected by current wars and called for a ceasefire. Finally, Eno and his expansive entourage of virtuosic performers bowed out to There Were Bells, the moving lead single from his acclaimed 2022 album, Foreverandevernomore.

As a longstanding admirer of Eno, I was expecting to enjoy this performance at the Royal Festival Hall, but my expectations were far exceeded. During the performance, Eno complained of a cold affecting his vocals, but my friend and I agreed this wasn't in any way tangible. From where I sat, his oaken, timeless voice struck every note, undulating fluidly with the orchestra's vivid, rolling waves.

The 2016 album was remastered earlier this year by Miles Showell at Abbey Road Studios and is available on limited coloured vinyl with eco-packaging from Brian Eno's website.

Brian Eno at Royal Festival Hall setlist: The Ship / Fickle Sun (I) / Fickle Sun (II) The Hour Is Thin / Fickle Sun (III) I'm Set Free / By This River / Who Gives A Thought / And Then So Clear / Bone Bomb / Making Gardens Out Of Silence / There Were Bells