Reviewed onMonday December 5 (photo by Prudence Upton)
Acoustically speaking, no Australian venue like the Sydney Opera House gives an artist so much in return for their effort. The wide-open space fills with music quickly, there’s a special feeling surrounding the place, and there’s an elevated air to everything that takes flight in the building. Monday evening was no exemption.
Upon the commencement of his show, Swedish musician Kristian Matsson – who records, scores and tours under the name The Tallest Man On Earth – stood alone to perform a set of self-penned serenades. Armed with only his guitar and loop pedal, the leading man wholly immersed himself in some stirring melancholia as the stage lights dimmed. Even during the in-between spaces there was something to listen out for – the occasional hiatus where he would stop to pull a thought from deep within his musical memory bank. He even inspired someone in the stalls to whisper, “This is beautiful – I feel like I’m going to cry.”
Onstage, Matsson was wild but modest, rambling his way through reams of wordplay more haphazard than not. Whether frolicking around dancing on one leg or sitting momentarily on a chair, he rarely seemed nervous or shy. While his vocal delivery can be an acquired taste, it’s inevitably his lyricism that is remoulded by each listener to reflect his or her own heavy heartache.
For the majority of the almost two-hour set, Matsson switched back and forth between songs old and new, each of them maintaining a similar pace to the last. The audience was lulled with the allure of soft stepping in ‘The Wild Hunt’, while ‘Fields Of Our Home’ saw touches of violin, harmonica and pedal steel guitar added for extra measure.
Whether it was the slightly vast ‘Darkness Of The Dream’ or the tender throb of ‘The Gardener’, each song had the crowd avidly hanging onto every word.
