Ustad Shujaat Khan & Karsh Kale at Tully Hall
What a tremendous night at the newly refurbished Starr Theatre at Alice Tulley Hall. The Lincoln Center concert hall is gorgeous, welcoming and by the looks of its first two weeks, it appears committed to offering a rich selection of diverse artists. If that is truly the goal, last night’s performance should be the benchmark.
From left: Iyer, Khan, Maron and Kale thank the audience following their performance.
The concert featured North Indian sitar master Ustad Shujaat Khan and New York-raised and world-renowned tabla player Karsh Kale. In support (though I saw them as equal players), were jazz pianist Vijay Iyer and groove music patron-bassist Jonathan Maron of Groove Collective. They brought a unique musical perspectives to the stage and the results were spellbinding.
The ensemble played five songs, two from Kahn, the third from Kahn and Kale, the fourth composed by Iyer and the finale was a piece written by Kahn’s son. The two that registered the most with me were the opener, “Dawn,” and “Desire,” Kahn and Kale’s collaboration.
“Dawn” featured a melody that coincidentally brought to mind Jesse Malin’s “Prison of Paradise.” It was soft and accessible, a demonstration of virtuosity, but soothing enough that I sometimes closed my eyes and perhaps came close to drifting off. Still, I mostly remained engrossed.
For my money, it was “Desire” that demonstrated the full potential of this ensemble. Kale began on tabla but switched to a full, western drum kit about halfway through. As he pounded out drum and bass rhythms, Maron held up the low end with maxed-out driving grooves. It was in this context that Khan could play stabbing, electric riffs on his decidedly acoustic instrument. Sometimes he and Iyer traded riffs and even completed each others thoughts.
Beyond what I’ve said, there isn’t much more I can add about the performance. The group was smart, balanced and free of ego. Iyer’s piano accented and brightened the sitar, but knew when to stay out of the way and when to offer flourishes and solos. Khan proved as adept an accompanist as he was a soloist and melody player, playing something of a rhythm sitar at times. Kale certainly flashed show-stealing ability, but was also comfortable in a supporting role, pacing the group with the deep gulps of his tabla. And to me, it was really Maron whose grooves drove the group to its heights and drew the audience right into the middle of the action.
The inside of the Starr Theatre. Notice the woman reading Watchmen in the bottom left.
Now, I’d be remiss to discuss this show without a discussion of the theatre itself. First off, Lincoln Center accomplished its goals for the space. The building’s new, modern facade looks like it will fly away. Standing in the sub-street level lobby bar/restaurant, the glass walls open to a view that connects you with the city. If feels welcoming, rather than foreboding. The theatre itself is gorgeous with warm wood paneling and curved lines. It feels modern, smooth and adjustable. With an extending stage, pivoting ceiling and retractable noise baffling curtains, the Starr is clearly designed as an instrument of music itself.
Just as the lights went down, the curtains fell along the walls of the theatre, producing a shockingly quiet experience. For example, the moment the standing ovation finished, the theatre immediately returned to complete quiet, as if we’d tried to make waves in oatmeal. With those curtains down, there was nary an echo in the place.
Now, the affect that has on music is interesting. I felt like I was sitting in a recording studio listening to the band lay down tracks. You could hear everything on stage as clear as day, even the cracks of Khan adjusting the pegs on his sitar. I’m certain not a note was lost in the performance. However, the clarity robbed the performance of the live energy you come to expect from a concert. The reverberation we typically feel helps draw us into the live moment. Here, it felt as perfect as if I’d been sitting with headphones on, listening to a CD.
