bjork.com : gigOgraphy

Barrett Hooper
National Post

BJORK
Hummingbird Centre, Toronto

Who knows what eccentric Icelandic muse inspires Bj�rk Gudmundsd�ttir? The mischievous pop pixie with the questionable fashion sense fails easy categorization. Her music, both artful and experimental, does not so much defy convention as subvert it to the needs of her imagination. Her albums have sold millions and she has collaborated with the likes of American rapper RZA and Radiohead front man Thom Yorke. But she is rarely heard on the radio, and her latest CD, Vespertine, is hardly FM-friendly. A mesmerizing mix of digital technology and traditional instrumentation, the album relies on lush orchestration, angelic choral arrangements, electronica and "found sounds" (the shuffling of cards serves as a beat on one song, as does clattering cutlery, clicking cameras and sandpaper on wood) to create what she calls "chamber music for this century."

Bj�rk is unveiling Vespertine to audiences during her first world tour in three years and is playing only smaller venues because she felt the classically tinged music was too intimate for larger settings. So it was that on Monday evening she turned the Hummingbird Centre into a sonic snow globe where Icelandic opera meets performance art, full of fluttery rhythms, digital chatter and snippets of sampled sounds.

Known for her innovative live performances, the sold-out concert -- Bj�rk's only Canadian stop -- included Nunavut throat singer Tanya Tagaq, an 11-member choir from Greenland, the 54-piece Il Novecento Orchestra and harpist Zeena Parkins. Rounding out the mix were electronica duo Matmos (Martin Schmidt and Andrew Daniel), who, in addition to backing up Bj�rk, opened the evening with a cheeky performance of sampled surgical sounds.

But initially, Bj�rk sat alone on-stage, her glittery bluish-white swan dress illuminated only by the light from the orchestra pit. In her lap, the chimes of a music box created the childlike instrumental Frosti as bits of white paper fluttered down like angel feathers.

With that the mood was set, soft and warm and full of sentiment, and worlds apart from the harsher pop conventions of her previous work. Gone were the club-friendly dance vibes of 1993's Debut, her first solo album after leaving the Icelandic post-punk band the Sugarcubes. Gone, too, were the sweeping, dramatic arrangements of 1997's Homogenic. Only last year's Oscar-nominated Selmasongs EP, a heartbreaking soundscape created to accompany Lars von Trier's film Dancer in the Dark, for which Bj�rk also won the best actress award at Cannes, comes close.

Bj�rk approached the rest of the performance like an impetuous child, prancing barefoot about the stage in an arrhythmic Icelandic two-step, her swinging arms adding weight to her gorgeous voice. That voice, at times fragile and trembling, demanded attention. A mere whisper on Unravel, from Homogenic and one of a half-dozen songs not from Vespertine, it soared over Cocoon's skippy beats. Like most of her music, the normal conventions of rhyme and metre were abandoned on the dreamy It's Not Up to You, her closest attempt at being commercial, as she alternated between soaring vocals and croaky mumbling.

It was during An Echo, A Stain that Tagaq first captivated as her melodic ticks, clicks and deep breathing filled the auditorium. And her subsequent solo stole the show as animal growls became the adrenalized panting of love-making, which turned into the gasps of a desperate marathoner, panicked and anxious.

Hidden Place, a subterranean love song and companion to Cocoon, gave way to the lush strings of Il Novecento on Play Dead, which set up the more up-tempo second set that saw Bj�rk decked out in a red ostrich-feather dress.

Starting with You've Been Flirting Again followed by Isobel, Bj�rk enchanted with her poetic lyrics. Further in, the choir was dismissed and the orchestra silenced for a groovy punk version of Army of Me, and on Generous Palmstroke she was accompanied only by the icicle-snapping crispness of Parkins' harp.

Bj�rk returned for just one encore, consisting of Human Behaviour and the as yet unreleased In Our Hands, which had the entire house clapping as she bounded about the stage and shouted into the mic like a petulant girl daring you to scold her. The only punishment was that it ended so quickly.