With Nala Sinephro and her band scheduled to start their show at 7.30pm sharp, the Barbican was buzzing and ready at the allotted time, the punctual crowd eager to kick off their weekend with what promised to be a delectable Friday night’s entertainment. However, due to a technical issue, the commencement of the voyage was delayed some 45 or so minutes, but that only helped anticipation build and gave people more time to get more drinks and settle themselves further into the historic theatre’s plush seats.
When the performers did arrive on stage – Sinephro joined by Wonky Logic and Lyle Barton on various keys and synths, Natcyet Wakili on drums and Chelsea Carmichael on saxophone – they accentuated and amplified the anticipation with a slow and patient start. Sinephro started solo on her harp, the instrument humming and fizzing its way into every corner of the auditorium.
The minimalist lighting arrangement, with just four white lights surrounding the performers, spotlighted the playing all night, starting with Sinephro’s nimble fingers, which oozed between graceful liquid melody and more meaty plucks. The slight modulation on the instrument made these heavier strokes sound like electronic blips, giving us the first taste of the space age approach to jazz that she has made her calling card.
After some minutes of this mesmeric introduction, the rest of the players arose almost imperceptibly into the performance, their mind meld with Sinephro making them feel as one craft taking off into the sparkling black night sky. Before long the harp and sax were entwined, skipping together from block to block provided by the understated but sturdy framework provided by the percussion and blocky synths. Carmichael soon had the opportunity to let her instrument stretch its legs, her saxophone strolling around in the style of old school Sunday afternoon jazz – but stepping between stars on the astral plane.
As the quintet’s sound continued to build, Sinephro switched from harp to synth to join in the intertwining melodies and arpeggiations to form a sonic temple. Amidst this hallowed, polychromatic aura, Carmichael again stood out, her saxophone adding a sweet-yet-strong dose of solemnity to proceedings. Meanwhile, Sinephro remained the conductor of it all, her electronics subtly speeding and slowing the tempo to her will, flipping the song through different dimensions with ease.
It was in her unwavering fingers that the first portion of the evening was drawn to a close, the quintet coming together in a beautifully droning tone, slipping away until nothing was left but Sinephro’s whispering synthesizer, until that too was gone. Finally, after almost an hour of non-stop playing, the audience had the opportunity to show their appreciation for the performers, and did so voluminously.
Sinephro then arose from her arsenal of electronic instruments, her smile shining as brightly as the silver beading in her hair, and moved of to her harp to once more start warming up the intergalactic motor for another voyage.
Again Sinephro played solo for some minutes – time seems immaterial when her fingers are on those strings – her band patiently poised, seemingly as spellbound as the audience. She moved her hands like a witch over a cauldron, bubbling up a fragrant auditory stew, everyone’s anticipation growing.
When the bass arrived, it appeared like a black planet in the middle of the room, blotting itself into the air with presence and heft, conjured in an instant. From there the quintet was combined in sensual exploration, hovering together, expanding and contracting as one.
Sinephro again switched to her synth setup and wove between her collaborators to create a spectral mesh. The atmosphere was paradise-like, a lunar beach scene that invited the audience to relinquish all strains and lean in, relax and unwind under the intense but tickling array of sparkles. Carmichael broke free of this to play freely, her sax skirting across the surface like the much-needed breeze, adding the umbrella to the space jazz cocktail.
In this rarefied air, Wakili had his opportunity to show off, his percussive creativity provoking the band to sweeping new levels of reverie. The concoction turned into a solar-bathing delight, the scent of freedom and carelessness palpable in every molecule floating between players and audience.
While it felt as if the quintet could have maintained this playing for hours, if not days, Sinephro again took charge before long, her modulations overwhelming the sound like a giant hand settling things down. She safely and slowly brought the voyagers back down to Earth with grace and subtlety.
She had the audience hanging on every tone, wanting to savour every drop, and it wasn’t until the very last murmur had died away that they exploded into applause. Before departing the stage, Sinephro found a microphone to ensure that each of her collaborators got their deserved recognition for their piece in the night’s wonders, as well as telling the audience how much fun they’d had and how grateful they were. Judging by the fulsomeness and extent of the applause, the feeling was unanimously mutual.
