MUSIC

Monday, March 24, 2008

Tift Merritt

The Birchmere was probably the quietest venue in D.C. on Friday night, as Tift Merritt sang, off microphone, the lilting "Supposed to Make You Happy," backed only by her soft acoustic guitar. Two band mates joined her in vocal harmonies, but the focus was all on Merritt's pensive tone and clear delivery.

Merritt did not show the same restraint for most of the rest of her 90-minute set; more often than not, her four-piece band replaced subtlety with volume and speed. The resulting sound was pretty but generic: Songs that started out with the sweet vocal clarity of Laura Cantrell quickly morphed into Sheryl Crow-style adult alterna-pop ("Another Country"). The expressive solo introduction to "Something to Me" was quickly overpowered by her band; in the process, Merritt's airy voice lost its nuance as she strained to be heard over the other musicians.

There were a few exceptions that allowed Merritt's voice and lyrics to shine; the band kept its contributions minimal on "Keep You Happy" and the outstanding "Tender Branch." Merritt's other compelling strategy was to turn up her own volume to match that of her band: She switched from her usual instruments (acoustic guitar or keyboards) to electric guitar for a pair of songs mid-set. That choice pushed her music more into rock territory, and the louder, more aggressive sound echoed the soaring choruses of "My Heart Is Free."

-- Catherine P. Lewis

Leon Russell

Leon Russell's remarkable half-century in music peaked in the early 1970s -- which, on the evidence of his plodding, workmanlike set of piano-based blues-rock Friday night at the State Theatre, was a long time ago. Despite dozens of albums to his credit, the white-bearded Oklahoman devoted much of his 85-minute show to rock and blues gentry: Dylan, the Stones, Willie Dixon, Jerry Lee Lewis.

The heavy reliance on covers was appropriate for a musician more famous for the countless hits and classic albums he played on or produced than for his own large catalogue. But there was nothing revelatory about Russell's versions of "Hoochie Coochie Man" or "Georgia on My Mind." And his tin-eared redo of "Wild Horses" as a bouncy, mid-tempo shuffle is as egregious a fouling as any Stones classic has ever suffered. (To be fair, the "Great Balls of Fire" that kicked off a show-closing medley had some kick, but that would be a hard song for one of the most respected piano men in rock to screw up.)

Among Russell's originals, only "A Song for You" stood out, performed after a rest in which he looked on while guitarist Chris Simmons positively tore up Robert Johnson's "Walkin' Blues," followed by keyboardist Brian Lee's take of Jackson Browne's "Rosie." These performances were the evening's best, but Russell didn't introduce the men responsible. In fact, he barely spoke at all. Concealed all night by a 10-gallon hat, mirror shades and his keyboard, he was as much a non-presence onstage as he was in the sound mix, which buried his vocals -- and everything else -- beneath gunky layers of keys.

Russell's credits are legendary. History will no doubt pay him due respect by overlooking tired performances like this one.

--Chris Klimek

Bach Sinfonia

While Vivaldi, Corelli and their compatriots were reveling in their Italianness and Rameau and Lully in their Frenchness, the baroque composers of Northern Europe tended to be musical chameleons, writing fluently in either Italian or French idioms as the fashion of the moment dictated. Thus Georg Philipp Telemann, German and Lutheran to the core, turned out reams of concertos, cantatas and suites, all filled with the forms, inflections, ornaments and rhythmic formulas native to his contemporaries to the south.

The Bach Sinfonia chose three splendid examples of Telemann's art for its program Saturday at the Woodside United Methodist Church in Silver Spring. There was a quartet (played here by two flutes, bassoon and a cello-and-harpsichord continuo) that had both the grace and the modest range of the French musical language; an Italianate concerto for three violins, laced with energy and exuberant ornamentation; and, in the second half, his 10-movement French-inspired, "Wassermusik" Suite, or "Water Music, Hamburg Ebb and Flow."

Conductor Daniel Abraham has gathered together 19 baroque experts for this ensemble. They play on period instruments (or their copies) with gut strings and bows that provide more clarity than power or bite. Even when this group motors along enthusiastically, its music projects warmth and a sense of intimacy. In this performance, however, it also projected moments of raggedness. Since, in true baroque fashion, the upper strings and winds played standing and -- on this stage -- bunched up, the shorter violinists in back could not possibly have seen much of the seated cellists or of anyone else's body language, which, for this chamber-size group, might account for some of the lapses in ensemble.

The concert opened majestically with the big Sinfonia from Bach's Cantata No. 42.

-- Joan Reinthaler