Whether Boise was skanking to The Toasters, shimmying in place to Reckless Kelly or sitting still as dancers dipped to Opera Idaho's The Winterreise Project, last week was all about movement.
Boise Weekly's Josh Gross swung by The Toasters' ska-tastic show at The Shredder Jan. 31.
"The crowd was full of leading researchers in the field of 'up to no good,'" wrote Gross. "But here's the other thing: They were also dancing like giddy children. First to the Mad Caddies-esque sound of Rochester, N.Y.'s Mrs. Skannotto and then to the second wave oi of The Toasters."
Moving from the sweaty underground to the more mainstream Morrison Center, BW's Andrew Crisp took his seat Feb. 1 to see Austin, Texas, country rockers Reckless Kelly perform in the 2,000-seat venue.
"Thanks to the Morrison Center," Willy Braun told the crowd. "We've wanted to play here since we were little kids."
Braun and his brother--fiddle and mandolin player Cody--grew up in Idaho with their father, Muzzie Braun, before moving to Austin.
According to Crisp: "The only drawbacks to a raucous performance were constraints placed by the venue. For one, alcohol sales were limited to two beverages per person, with sales cut off as the show began. ... What's more, the Morrison Center's seating proved difficult to strike a balance between on-one's-feet dancing and quiet listening. The crowd was split on which to do, and instead, rose and fell depending between slow songs and fast-paced tracks."
Speaking of rising and falling, BW's Harrison Berry settled in Feb. 1 for Opera Idaho's performance of The Winterreise Project, a Franz Schubert song cycle set to the spare, dry poetry of Wilhelm Muller and choreographed by Lauren Edson.
"Playing the part of the scorned lover, baritone Jason Detwiler passed through two-dozen stages of grief while shadowed by dancers Jason Hartley (a slightly shorter double for Detwiler), Libby Schmoeger and Sayoko Knode, a lithe apparition meant to recall the woman who haunts the lover's dreams," observed Berry.
The performance took place in front of a screen that played wintery images and subtitles to the German lyrics.
"Hartley's restrained and inhibited movements reflected the chill of winter and the breakdown of the barrier between the lover's self and the world around him," wrote Berry.
Speaking of chilling performances, Berry also stopped by Visual Arts Collective Feb. 2 for an other-worldly set from dark Denver folksters Wovenhand.
"Modest crowds came to see the folksy-bluegrassy band twiddle and echo its sometimes mellow, sometimes rockin'--but always in the key of open roads, dusty skies and rattlesnakes--brand of electric Americana," wrote Berry.