Emiliana Torrini

Legend has it that a wondrous maiden once lived in Iceland, her eyes as clear as the northern lights and her soul as pure as a snowflake. There was no man who didn't desire her as a wife, but for her, only the spirit mattered. The devil himself came to hate her for her virtue, and, taking on the guise of a young man, managed to win her as his bride. Yet every night, in the marriage bed, the devil had to give up any approach to her, for he could not bear the closeness of that immaculate heart.

The music of Emiliana Torrini holds the same enchanted purity described in the ancient tales of her native land: it's made of velvety arpeggios, of gentle ripples, of the tremor of a song with transparent sighs. Introducing her to the Milanese audience is another daughter of the ice, Elísabet Sigrúnardóttir, known by her stage name Lay Low: there could be no more fitting prologue than her delicate country-folk, Icelandic on paper but intimately American at its roots. And here she is, Emilíana Torrini Davíðsdóttir: she emerges from the half-light of a stage framed with lamps and abat-jour worthy of an old curio shop, approaching the microphone in a light floral dress with a romantically retro cut.

She sways awkwardly, Emiliana, clasping her fingers tightly as her voice soars, thin and light: there's something of Dorothy from "The Wizard of Oz" in the guileless look of her movements. The gentle melodies of "Fireheads" and "Heartstopper", backed by the warmth of a four-piece band, take on the tone of certain pop fragrances à la Norah Jones; then the atmosphere turns rarefied, as in the most essential moments of “Fisherman's Woman”, from a floating “Lifesaver” to the blues colorings of “Sunnyroad”, passing through a “Today Has Been Ok” embroidered with slide guitar.

She smiles shyly, Emiliana, as she tries to explain to the audience the inspiration behind her songs, joking that the only Italian words she knows are the ones her father always used to repeat to her: “Maronna ‘o Carmine”... What really wins over the crowd (among whom a boisterous Icelandic delegation doesn't go unnoticed) are above all the most infectious tracks from her latest (and uneven) “Me And Armini”, which, as expected, makes up most of the setlist: the joyful lightheartedness of “Big Jumps”, the reggae of “Me And Armini”, the rhythmic verve of “Jungle Drum”, which gives Emiliana Torrini the chance to let loose in a swinging dance.

Between the dreamy passages of “Ha Ha” and the expansive stretches of “Birds”, the Icelandic singer-songwriter jokingly hushes the crowd to get the attention needed for the intimate, anguished “Bleeder”, its mandolin accompanying the diary of a hard-won hope found within pain: “When things go wrong / You find you’re a believer”.

The riff of “Gun” turns sturdy and angular, growing sharper as percussion and drums press forward, then bursts out thunderously in Emiliana's sensual abandon: it's the most striking surprise of an evening that otherwise unfolds along a thread of subtle shadings, sliding toward its close amid the handclaps of “Heard It All Before”.

Emiliana Torrini's return to the stage comes as a whisper of “Fisherman's Woman”, which hangs suspended on the notes of the harmonium until it blurs into the old “Sea People” (the only concession to the days of “Love In The Time Of Science”). It's the age-old vision of a woman waiting for her man far away, and perhaps she will wait for him forever, and perhaps she will never see him again: after all, isn't that waiting the very essence of love? The pacified Nick Drake mood of “Nothing Brings Me Down” thus leads into the farewell of “Beggar’s Prayer”. Emiliana's voice falters, as sometimes happens in the face of the truest words. And her beggar's prayer echoes on before she leaves the stage with the honesty of an open wound: “Lord you just dropped me here by the side of this road / Out here’s too cold and I don’t want to walk it alone / I’ve got a bottle of your blood inside me / And an old beggar’s prayer on the tip of my tongue”.

(19/02/2009)

Photo by Elisabetta Bellosta

Ride the wave of great music

Add OndaRock to your favorite sources on Google Discover. Don't miss our reviews, milestones and latest news straight in your feed.

Follow on Google