By Ron Fassler . . .
Constance Hauman’s artistic journey as an international opera soprano, composer, and recording artist has been one of unorthodoxy and consistent change. This weekend over a run of three performances at Joe’s Pub, surrounded by a team of incredible musicians and friends (including the 84-year-old funk recording artist and Lifetime Grammy recipient, George Clinton), Hauman made the most of every minute she was onstage throughout her eclectic set. Mostly seated due to accompanying herself on piano, she still managed to raise the roof song after song, confident in her own ability to keep several spinning plates in the air. The audience responded with heartfelt enthusiasm and roars of approval.
Making her entrance in an all-black outfit, befitted with a wild hat and cape, Hauman began almost immediately shedding piece by piece as she got down to business (the hat made her appear as something like a demented Mouseketeer, which seemed about right). During the first song, an autobiographical piece titled “$22.86,” one of the lyrics about “singing hanging upside down” threw me back to 1987 and seeing her do just that in Richard Strauss’s 1912 German opera Ariadne auf Naxos.
Yes, I’ve been following her career for some time.
Always a risk taker, Hauman’s song stories feel in the moment and personal, especially in “Dark Angel,” a composition in which the lyric “You’re not welcome anymore” offers a gut-piercing honesty. Her songs, fusing opera with funk, may seem an odd combination, but due to the profound authenticity she provides, it’s a gimmick-free approach organic in nature and orgasmic in execution.
The use of Clinton throughout the show turned out magical. Seated at a table near the front, equipped with a live mic that would allow his deep, rich voice to chime in from time to time, this “Voice of God” quality was no coincidence. All the musicians seemed connected through the power of the music and symbiotically work as a force to be reckoned with. They are Ross Pederson (drums), his wife Julie Adamy (bass), Henry Ott (guitar), James Jones (bass), T. J. Robinson (trombone and rap), J.S. Williams (trumpet), and Everett Bradley (percussion). Bradley is also the writer of the one song that isn’t by Hauman, “Simple Wish,” which he also sang. Hauman graciously gave the stage over to Bradley for one of the evening’s most stirring numbers.
Though little to no patter is offered, it felt right since this was all about the music anyway. While introducing her composition “The Bells of St. Merry,” Hauman pointed out the revelation she felt upon discovering that while listening to the bells from her apartment in Paris in the 4th arrondissement, she could match the bells of the St. Merry Church to a song. On her CD recording “Falling into Now”—the title of which is the same as this show—the actual bells of the church are interpolated. Here at Joe’s Pub, it tolled magnificently.
On a song like “Apollo,” Hauman abstained from vocals and concentrated purely on musicianship. Then, with “Eclipse,” her major soprano rifts lifted the song into the stratosphere (for one time only, she abdicated her place at the keyboard). The trombone and trumpet playing, courtesy of T.J. Robinson and J.S. Williams respectively, was positively thrilling. As for the aforementioned “Simple Wish,” the full group of eight musicians gathered in an emotionally rousing, go-for-broke cacophony.
For an encore, Hauman chose to leave things to her own devices; just she and her Yamaha. It was as if someone pulled a plug from its socket; the sizzling electricity coming to a complete stop, leaving everyone’s bodies still humming.
That’s how you put on a show!
“Constance Hauman: Falling into Now,” performed Friday February 6 at 7:00, and Saturday February 7 at 7:00 and 9:30 at Joe’s Pub, 425 Lafayette Street, NYC. For further information on Constance Hauman, please visit her website.
Photos by @mikiodo.
