Sarah Blasko
National Theatre, Melbourne

In a week when The Pixies have virtually codified nostalgia, the Melbourne leg of Sarah Blasko’s Autumn Theatre tour was the retort of genuine artistry. If Blasko was from San Francisco, signed to an indie and sold one-tenth the records she does, she’d be greeted with rapturous appraise. But she’s Australian and too often we’re so scared of our artists that they tread hesitantly in response. Blasko, thankfully, is hesitant outside her music, but certain within. On this tour, backed by multi-instrumentalist and arranger Robert F. Cranny and percussionist Jeff de Araujo, with augmentation from a deployment of string and wind players, she’s recast her material, linking her two studio albums and accentuating the central themes of pursuit, freedom and regret.

Dressed like a figment of Hans Christian Anderson’s imagination – formal red dress, black tights – and boasting Marlene Dietrich’s cheekbones, Blasko sought not to be possessed by her songs, but to capture them – she was Isabel Archer in Portrait of a Lady, with the tension playing out in her repeated hand clenches and robot dancing. Yet her voice soared and the sombre backing became lyrical, especially the violin parts that substituted for the guitar. The menace of ‘The Garden’s End’ was palpable, while ‘Planet New Year’ surged with assuredness.

A guest slot from Augie March’s Glenn Richards after intermission – they traded compositions and then enjoyed themselves on Donovan’s ‘Catch The Wind’ – diverted the mood, but it built again as Blasko pared down the songs and opened up their truths. There was the occasional misstep, such as the absence of the chorus that rises up out of ‘Showstopper’, but by any relevant standard, even an Australian one, the show was a triumph.

by Craig Mathieson