Review: Ladysmith Black Mambazo Gives Riveting Performance
 |
A full house, indeed. "Great," a well-pleased David Fleming, artistic director, announced as he introduced the much-heralded guest artists on Wednesday night. Dispensing with further adieu, Ladysmith Black Mambazo took to the stage and immediately began to captivate the audience.
The all-male octet's brightly-colored matching shirts, white shoes and alternately bold and beguiling moves served as a backdrop for the compelling and plaintiff vocals of lead singer and founder Joseph Shabalala.
The voices and the visuals were equally riveting. One dare not look away. The group used eight stationary microphones on stands while Shabalala moved around the front of the stage enjoying the freedom of a cordless one.
It's hard to imagine a more acoustically perfect setting than the Colonial to hear a group like Ladysmith. Their nuances of style, dynamics, harmonies and virtuosity were met with an enraptured hush from veteran and new audience members alike. Every breath sound that the group used for effect was audible, as was each tap of the foot or click of the tongue. The leader seemed to magically control the singers without visible signs of conducting. It was as though he held the bellows of an accordion. Now and again, the South African singers purposely stepped back from the mikes and echoed a phrase. It sounded like someone had shut off the sound system momentarily. It had a wild effect, like hearing the singing of another group far off in the distance.
The phrase "well-oiled machine" comes to mind as an ersatz descriptor for the ensemble's singing and choreography. In particular, they used portamento so skillfully it came off as unison, no mean feat for eight voices. The same was true for percussive, staccato, special effects as well as for collective, legato passages – all seemingly orchestrated by the leader as if by mental telepathy.
It's hard to talk about Ladysmith without gushing. Superlatives seem inadequate. But it's easy to see why they have amassed 47 years singing together. They sing almost exclusively in their native Zulu tongue, yet while their stories come across as enjoyable pieces of music, it would have been helpful to have a synopsis of the content of each song as is often done in the opera. While it was obvious that many of the songs told elaborate stories, often they were lamentably inscrutable.
The group's collective and individual athleticism is only exceeded by their musicianship and technical prowess. They are, at once, exuberant and subtle, alternately brash and beckoning. Humor, improvisation, ostentation and even intimidation, merge with good effect.
One the high points of the concert was Shabalala introducing his youngest son. (He has four sons who sing with the group.) Thompson Shabalala took center stage. He sang strongly and also had an elegant, youthful falsetto. During his solo, the elder Shabalala left the stage in apparent deference to the next generation of Mambazo.
After intermission, most of the audience reconvened. What else did the group have by way of surprises? How much a cappella singing and dazzling choreography would prove to be too much? It turns out that Ladysmith had saved their social comment for the second half. Themes of political and social unrest, some historical, inspiring, some even embarrassing, played out in subsequent selections. Much of the aforementioned was not for the faint of heart. Shabalala held a mirror up to white society as he purposely sought to unbalance the listener with an accurate, albeit somewhat painful, look at the old, and not so old, South Africa.
But tension had a way of dissipating, and Ladysmith retook the moral high ground as goodwill ambassadors. One member of the group had great fun taunting the audience with the prospect of a World Cup soccer match played out between the United States and South Africa. "You're going to lose," he admonished good naturedly.
For its tour de force, the group's final selection featured each member individually in a dance improvisation reminiscent of break-dancing. Their enthusiasm and energy, even after two hours of performance, was mind boggling. One after another took center stage kicking over his head, dropping to the floor into a squat, getting back up, waving his arms, spinning, flailing, strutting, and then kicking some more. It was a wild romp. The audience loved it.
Ladysmith Black Mambazo was not allowed to get away without an encore. The applause was determined and persistent and didn't go unrewarded. The group retook the stage to perform a final number that had an apparent reverence for them. The Colonial's solid-colored backdrop morphed into a weedy jungle scene. Shabalala relinquished his center position in favor of standing in line with the others. The unison anthem transported the listener to Africa in a poignant and evocative moment.
Thanks for a most enjoyable trip, Ladysmith.
They'll be at Troy Savings Bank Music Hall on Saturday, Jan. 19, at 8 p.m. In case you'd like to take the journey as well.
Ronald K. Baker is a contributor to Muzikreviews.com.
