Tag: shows
Nada Surf at Terminal 5
The independent New York City concert-promoters at Bowery Presents opened Terminal 5 in the former Club Exit on far West 56th Street in October 2007. With a capacity of 3,000, this is the newest and largest venue in an empire of club holdings that includes the Mercury Lounge, the Bowery Ballroom, Webster Hall, and the Music Hall of Williamsburg (ne Northsix). The 40,000-square-foot cavern underwent a multi-million dollar industrial-chic renovation by architect Brian Swier, who also led the redesign on the Williamsburg factory space.
The main floor features the performance space, 40-foot ceilings with exposed ductwork (and a disco ball), and two tiers of wrap-around mezzanines. The third floor bar serves empanadas from the swankified Empanada Mama in Hells Kitchen.
We arrived tonight, catching the last 15 minutes of Superdrag‘s opening set (and encountering at least one very enthusiastic superfan in the process.) We had opted for positions near the front on the floor, in full view of the stage set-up, which involved a series of five large round mirrors that reflected back into the crowd. By the time Nada Surf took the stage it was nearly 10.
The band was on tour to promote their fifth studio album, Lucky. Almost improbably it seems, the Brooklyn-based trio has been around for over a decade: back in 1996, their novelty hit “Popular” was on endless rotation on MTV — amusing in its skewering of teenage romance clichés, if not particularly representative of their later sound. (In his intro to the song, lead singer-guitarist Matthew Caws insisted that the band still enjoys performing it, despite rumors to the contrary.)
The multi-talented Martin Wenk of Calexico joined bassist Daniel Lorca and drummer Ira Elliot on back-up horns during a cheerful set that ran over 90 minutes. Caws interacted with his audience affably, inviting several sing-a-longs, and at one point, coaxed the crowd into a jaunty arm-waving two-step during what he called the band’s attempt at a Motown song, “Inside of Love.”
Caws dedicated “Beautiful Beat” off of Lucky to his first boss from a “basement record store on Cornelia Street“ (who was watching the concert from the first balcony — I wonder about the acoustics in the upper reaches). At the same time, he worked in a plug for Record Store Day (April 19) — a day to honor independently owned record stores across the country.
The four-song encore included the familiar “Blonde on Blonde” and “Always Love.” And here’s a video of the show’s “Blankest Year” finale. The tunes are not edgy; indeed Nada Surf’s music has a certain generic indie-poppiness that makes it extremely soundtrack-friendly. But sometimes — what can I say? — I’m a sucker for a competently crafted melodic hook. Judging from the loyal fanbase at Terminal 5 tonight, I’m not the only one.
The following night, Nada Surf continued their tour in Washington, D.C. Listen to a live recording of their entire April 12th performance at the 9:30 Club on NPR.
Fuerzabruta
Fuerzabruta, the new original work from the Argentine creators of De La Guarda, has made it to New York City after successful runs in Europe and South America. Originally slated to run until February 18, the show has been extended through June 29, 2008.
Like its high-flying predecessor, this show has no real narrative; rather, it’s a series of set pieces, backed by thumping loud music, flashing lights, moving sets, and quite of bit of audience participation. Over 65 minutes (no intermission), the audience was led through various dance/acrobatic performances that were unconventional, sometimes sexy, sometimes a little violent. Hence: “brute force.” Assorted crew members herded us around the Daryl Roth Theatre into standing positions from which we could watch the scenes unfold from different perspectives.
To open the show, a long treadmill was rolled out into the center of the theater, parting the audience. Tethered actors walked and then ran along the rapidly moving belt, dodging moving objects, and smashing through cardboard walls. Paper everywhere!
The somewhat cranky New York Times reviewer likened one segment, for which we were screened in as a pair of women suspended on wires raced over a foil curtain, to “being inside a giant Jiffy Pop.”
Another scene featured a man and a woman flying through the air, trying to connect, but separated by a large, rotating silver sail, as the entire contraption was manipulated with cables by a trio on the floor. Groups of actors danced with wild abandon on stage and then among the audience, as sheets of pressed-powdery material crashed over heads, scattering white clouds through the space.
The highlight of the show was the much reported upon segment where the stage floor was set directly above the audience. With heads craned back, our view was through an immense clear-bottomed swimming pool filled with shallow water, raised high and then gradually dropped from the ceiling to within arm’s reach (and kissing distance) of the audience. A bevy of scantily-clad female performers stood, rolled, cavorted, belly-flopped and flirted through the Mylar; I cringed with each thwack, half expecting the thin material to give way, but apparently, it’s stronger than it looks. Their languid movements created mini-waves rippling across the surface overhead. The overall effect was quite remarkable, and it were these scenes which remained most vivid in my mind: the effect of the colored lights reflected through the water, and the sight of wet bodies pressed within millimeter’s reach, yet ultimately untouchable.
You can watch videos on the main Fuerzabruta site; both The New York Times and New York magazine websites have posted gorgeous slideshows of the action. For an amateur eye’s view, check out my flickr set.
To close out the evening, a DJ in a barrister wig rallied the audience into a dancing frenzy as water poured down from the sprinklers overhead. At Fuerzabruta, you’ll emerge coated in white powder, almost certainly sprayed with water, and possibly covered in debris. But just go with it. Later that night, as I prepared for bed, I noticed the small trail of confetti that I had left on my way to the bathtub and just had to smile.
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