When the ‘fearless’ Patti Smith came to the capital Music legend Patti Smith played not one but two gigs in Cardiff this week.This is what our critics thought...
ST JOHN THE EVANGELIST CHURCH, CANTON
POET, singer, political activist and friend to 20th century greats such as photographer Robert Mapplethorpe – also her lover – and Allen Ginsberg; widow to MC5 legend and revolutionary Fred “Sonic” Smith, the iconic Patti Smith is not just a deserving member of the Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall of Fame, she’s lived her 71 years with a fearless determination and uncompromising vision.
It’s somehow apt, then, that the High Priestess of Punk played St John’s in Canton, Cardiff, to a 200-strong congregation which couldn’t quite believe its luck.
Her first, more intimate, appearance at the ever-more-impressive Cardiff Festival of Voice, Smith – her keen eyes framed by curtains of long grey hair – faced the crowd flanked by long-time friend and collaborator, guitarist and rock archivist Lenny Kaye and guitarist/pianist Tony Shanahan.
Bathed in soft light, the evening, billed as words and music, kicked off with Smith’s poem Death of a Tramp.
And so the night’s cycle of song/poem/song gently unfolded – the audience observing a respectful hush as Smith, her voice still strong and richer with age, delivered beautifully-crafted words in prose and song.
There were several picks from her stunning long prose poem The New Jerusalem – Matter of Time, Prophecy’s Lullaby and, later, The Time of Gifts. The former, in particular, was redolent of Ginsberg’s iconoclastic epic Howl.
And, in case anyone was under the misapprehension that Smith has mellowed with age, there were well-aimed verbal missiles, emphasising her obvious distaste for Donald Trump and his recognition of Jerusalem as Israel’s capital. The city, she argued, is a multi-faith capital.
Later, there was a moving tribute to her late husband – and “always my boyfriend” – Fred “Sonic” Smith. But there was also banter and there was humour.
And, to finish the set, there was Because the Night, the hit song she wrote with Bruce Springsteen.
An encore of Elvis’ Can’t Help Falling in Love – complete with audience backing vocals – brought a tear to many eyes and the applause rang long into the night.
An unusual and spellbinding show, it was a privilege to witness someone whose humanity, warmth and intelligence shines through.
In an age of reality TV, online trolls, Trump and the Kardashians, artists like Patti Smith have never been more needed. Wayne Davies
WALES MILLENNIUM CENTRE
THEMES of ancestry and belonging ran through An Evening with Patti Smith at the Wales Millennium Centre.
Flanked by guitarist Lenny Kaye and bassist and piano player Tony Shanahan, Smith entered the room with that rebel swagger burning bright with her trademark charisma.
She launched into Dancing Barefoot with its dedications to intoxicating love and then the Hopi tribe inspired Ghost Dance.
“Dance hard enough to bring our ancestors back!” Patti commanded and we obeyed gladly.
It seemed to work as Patti reminisced about her part-Welsh mother.
In fact, “And my mother used to say…” became the catchphrase of the night as she connected portentous Cardiff Bay swans to her Detroit childhood.
Patti was definitely getting away with messing up the lyrics to My Blakean Years but felt it “important to admit to your mistakes”. But the fans knew the drill and the uninitiated were quickly catching up.
There was a pause for an original poem that pulled no punches on her opinions on Trump’s foreign policy and she followed with a foreboding cover of Bob Dylan’s paean to nuclear war, A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall.
The night seemed to gather momentum quickly from there. She left Kaye and Shanahan to cover Jim Carroll’s punk rock epic People Who Died and reappeared dancing among us to much delight. Shortly afterwards a wave of excitement passed across the room as we realised the story she was telling was the creation story of Because the Night.
Gloria saw a fully energised Patti yelling “Get up! I’m f**king 71 years old!” The growled opening lines proving that her voice remains impervious to the ravages of a rock and roll life.
“Jesus died for someone’s sins but not mine” led to an evangelical anarchistic shout of “Or mine!” from thrilled audience members that threatened, but avoided, going a bit Life of Brian.
An energetic encore of People Have the Power drew to a close a night that was poignant, ramshackle, funny and incredibly optimistic, leaving me with post gig buzz the likes of which I have not felt for some time.