PERFORMING ARTS

Monday, April 24, 2006

Elvis Costello

Elvis Costello received a standing ovation before he even started on Thursday at Strathmore. The legendary singer-songwriter was in town to perform with the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra as part of the venue's "BSO Pops Rocks" series, which brought out eager Costello fans who might not normally venture into the blond-wood auditorium -- or even bother with his various orchestral and jazz-oriented works.

While the sold-out audience seemed to enjoy the first 35 minutes of the concert -- where the symphony, alone, ran through 12 brief selections from "Il Sogno," Costello's score for an Italian ballet company's version of "A Midsummer Night's Dream" -- the crowd blew a collective gasket when Elvis reentered the building and grabbed his acoustic guitar.

Costello did a solo rendition of the new song "The River in Reverse" (about New Orleans) and was joined by the BSO for "All This Useless Beauty" and "The Birds Will Still Be Singing" before intermission.

One woman on her way to the lobby spoke for pretty much everyone when she said, "At least he's playing some songs we know now."

And Costello didn't let that lady down in the second half.

Joined by the BSO and Steve Nieve, his longtime pianist from the Attractions, Costello performed plenty of favorites, including a pretty "Almost Blue," a jazzy, jumbled and awkward "Watching the Detectives" and three orchestral-pop tunes he wrote with Burt Bacharach: "Painted From Memory," "God Give Me Strength" and "I Still Have That Other Girl," the last of which came with his first encore. In fact, it was Costello's encores, such as a gorgeous "Alison" and an off-mike rendition of "Couldn't Call It Unexpected No. 4," that worked best -- even if they made the show run a bit late and caused one nervous stagehand to pop out onstage and give Costello the neck-slash "cut" sign.

-- Christopher Porter

India

Live music never starts early at H20. Though that policy can make for a tired audience in the club's standing-room-only concert space, it is usually not a problem for the night-owl performers. Friday night, however, India and her 11-piece band arrived at 11:45, started at 1:15 a.m. Saturday morning without much of a sound check, and found themselves struggling with technical troubles.

India opened the set robustly wailing "Soy Differente," the upbeat Latin-pop title track of her newest CD, but those vocals were hidden in the mix under the percussion and horns. Two subsequent power outages to the microphones, including one that stopped her wonderful "Dicen Que Soy," could have left a bad impression of the whole show, but, thankfully the sound improved a bit and the "Princess of Salsa," with a smile on her face, energetically continued.

The 36-year-old India, a Bronx-raised Puerto Rican who was born Linda Caballero, began her career as a teenage Latin-pop-disco singer. But by the early 1990s she established herself as a salsa vocalist and Hispanic feminist icon. On "Mi Mayor Venganza," which means "my greatest revenge," India demonstrated that iconic status as countless women sang along with her brash, heavy tone. An admirer of Celia Cruz and Janis Joplin, "La India," as some have dubbed her, sometimes hits her notes a little too forcefully, but she kept that over-emoting largely in check during the show.

A talkative artist in English and Spanish, India improvised over-the-top, jazzy between-songs tributes to the audience when she wasn't offering inspirational spoken words. Rocking up and down in high heels and black miniskirt, she versified with her male backup singers as the band passionately banged out a noisy, syncopated groove of timbales, cowbell and brass. She closed her set with Eddie Palmieri's "Mi Primera Rumba." It had only been an hour-long performance, but she'd worked hard every minute, and had the sweat and eyeliner running down her face to prove it.

-- Steve Kiviat

Pepe Romero

There are few things in life as elegantly seductive as the Spanish guitar. Just ask anyone who heard Pepe Romero's brilliant recital Saturday night at Westmoreland Congregational Church. Playing to a packed house, Romero showed why he's one of the great guitarists of our time: He marries complete virtuosity and exceptional refinement, all in the service of music that he feels as deeply as anyone alive.

And what extraordinary music this is. Romero's guitar work was a homage to the power of quiet sensuality and intense passion, as he traveled from the moving "Homanaje" of Manuel de Falla, to the fiery, flamenco-steeped music of Agustin Castellon, to his own lyrical Andalusian piece. The drama and technical complexity of this music are temptations to the showman. But its deepest beauties are revealed only when the passion is restrained and the heart held back -- and at this, Romero is a master. Even in virtuosic display pieces such as Francisco Tarrega's ferocious "Gran Jota," a tour de force that evokes everything from snare drums to marching boots, Romero always stays behind the music, etching every detail with precision.

But it was in the more lyrical, inward-looking works, such as Enrique Granados's haunting "La Maja de Goya" and the rhapsodic "Fandanguillo" of Joaquin Turina, that Romero showed how profound a musician he is. There was not a thoughtless note in any of it, only introspective and almost intimate playing, as if he were alone, quietly thinking, in a sun-drenched Spanish landscape.

-- Stephen Brookes

Wes Tucker and The Skillets

Wes Tucker and the Skillets sound like a country band in name only. On Thursday night at Iota, the Arlington quartet showcased solid songwriting and tight instrumentation in musical styles ranging from funk to groove-based R&B to soulful jam-based ballads.

Tucker, who played acoustic guitar as he sang, was a strong stage presence, firmly in command of the material, most of which came from the band's new album, "Beauty in the Broken." His muscular vocals easily fit the ever-changing tempos of the tunes while maintaining the heartfelt intent of the image-laden lyrics.

The show shifted gears when lead guitarist Bryan Washam, whose funk riffs and solos entirely suited the material, and bassist Arch Alcantara, who provided a solid bottom with drummer Dave Rutkowski, traded instruments. Alcantara's bottleneck-slide style of playing was fiery and rock-based, raising the energy of the room even higher.

As skillful as the Skillets' playing was, the most impressive aspect was the songwriting. Tucker's tunes are sturdy without being rigid, soulful without being cloying, and he expresses them like he believes the words.

The night's opener, Duluth, Minn.'s Trampled by Turtles, made a memorable impression in its Iota debut. The four-piece band, seated in chairs across the stage, made a joyful racket in its short set, blending mandolin, banjo, acoustic guitar and acoustic bass to find a niche in bluegrass that combines the tunefulness of Nickel Creek and the fury of the Avett Brothers.

-- Buzz McClain