Photos by Daniela Tantalo.
Basia Bulat is having a very good year. In February, the indie-folk songstress released her latest album, Good Advice; the critically acclaimed record was shortlisted for the Polaris Prize. She delighted a packed house at the Danforth Music Hall on Saturday night.
Electronic duo Bonjay had the challenging task of warming up the crowd. Electronica is a hard sell to a crowd of folk-rock fans, however, singer, Alanna Stuart partner, Pho, tried valiantly.
The main attraction appeared at 9:30 with her charango in hand ready to treat the audience to her talent in its purest form – just her instrument, her voice and her charm. Bulat is diminutive and has a girlish stage presence that is enhanced by her bounce and infectious smile. Dressed in a pale blue frock, even her stage attire brought to mind a fairytale protagonist, like Goldilocks or Gretel.
Her 5 piece band joined her and she rolled right into In The Name Of, followed by Long Goodbye and La La Lie. She spoke little between songs, but the show did not feel lacking in any way. She clearly loves what she does and seemed in awe of the fact that she is doing it for so many adoring fans. She and her band are versatile instrumentalists and showed off their skills throughout the night. Bulat herself played several instruments, a few of which are rarely used in today’s music. It is precisely these odd, folky instruments that give Bulat’s music an other-worldly quality and allure that crosses generations. Her voice is strong and her controlled vibrato gives her a unique sound, like no other on the radio in 2016. Bulat’s economy in stage banter allowed her to get in a 16 song set that the audience ate up happily and Bulat’s energy seemed to grow with the adulation in the room.
After taking their leave, the band re-appeared quickly for their encore. Wearing a short, green, sequined dress that enhanced her elven appearance, she coyly offered up a jazzy version of S’Wonderful in which she and her bassist playfully displayed some tandem plucking on the charango and bass. The next song had Bulat playing her 101 year old harp/dulcimer, which creaked and ached with age, but offered a haunting, ghostly sound. Finally, alone again on stage, Bulat played chords that evoked a circus carousel. She ended the night with a song, sung in Polish, a nod to her heritage. The folk-song, even in a foreign tongue, seemed an apt way to cap of the show.
