Sufjan in Seattle

I suppose it should have occurred to me when I flew out, on October 13, Friday, the 13th that is, that I made a stop through Chicago.

I was heading to Seattle, my fourth visit there in the last few years. Perhaps outside of DC, and Tennessee, and Ithaca, it's the city I'm most familiar with. I had been hoping to meet up with a few friends, which dwindled to meeting just one friend. But my real reason for heading to Seattle was Sufjan Stevens.

To tell this story properly, I need to wind back two months. Two months ago, I was invited to my cousin's wedding. My cousin had been living (and continues to live) in the Seattle area. Like most (nearly all) of the people I know in Seattle, my cousin works for Microsoft. He met his girlfriend, then fiancee, back at Cornell, I believe, and she came out to Seattle to live with him, and presumably, to marry him.

I had been invited, so I bought tickets for an early August wedding. Three weeks before the wedding, my cousin called it off. Great. I have tickets to Seattle. What now? Don't get me wrong. I love visiting Seattle--and I could have gone, but now it wasn't so necessary to go at that time.

As it happens, I found out that Sufjan Stevens was touring. One place his tour wasn't stoppping was Washington DC, though he had been to the area a year ago. I remember seeing his name, thinking, oh, it's nearly a month. I'll wait til it's closer in time, and by the tickets then. But even about three weeks out, the show was sold out.

Sufjan was the indie darling of 2005. His album Illinois (or more properly, Come and Feel the Illinoize a riff on the Quiet Riot title, Come and Feel the Noise, which itself was a cover of a song by Slade) was cnosidered by many to be the best indie album of the year.

Sufjan was able to deal with two musical topics/ideas that would be anathema to most. The banjo and religious folk music. Somehow, by picking the Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God approach to God, he made it more respectable. Seriously, though, many of his songs aren't particularly about religion, but about personal observations of experiences.

Anyway, Sufjan was touring, and the last stop was in Seattle, so I decided to rebook my tickets for then. I suppose it's awkward to want to watch a concert all the way across the country, and I'm sure I wouldn't have gone had my cousin not cancelled his wedding so late, nor if Sufjan had a DC stop.

It should have crossed my mind, in the layover in Chicago, that I was flying a big metal bird to, well, Chicago, one of the hit songs from Illinois, perhaps my favorite (though listening more closely to Casimir Pulaski Day's lyrics, I can see why that song is a favorite among fans).

Sufjan's opening act was My Brightest Diamond which shares the Asthmatic Kitty label that Sufjan helped start. Its lead singer is Shara Worden, whose songs seem like they could be the soundtrack to some fantasy movie a la Lord of the Rings. She has a creepy, foreboding voice, kind of like the goth girl that's suddenly taken a shining to the geeky guy, who doesn't know how to handle the situation.

Her performance went for nearly an hour, then there was a fifteen minute break.

Sufjan's stage appearance always seems at odds with his songs, which feel very personal. Sufjan seems like the white alter ego to Prince, who was famous for his large stage protections. The Purple Majesty hailed from way up north. Minneapolis was where Prince called home. Similarly, Sufjan calls (or used to) northern Michigan home. He's thrilled about the Detroit Tigers post-season results too.

Sufjan's crew all came out wearing butterfly wings. His productions almost verge on a high school or college production from a very arty department. They aren't done with the polish and sheen of a Broadway production, but I think Sufjan likes the kitsch value. Sufjan himself wore wings that look like a kite, though his wings were of an eagle, or so he claims.

Sufjan does one thing that I find almost amazing. He talks to the audience. I can't tell you how many bands I've heard where the lead just announces the names of the song. That includes My Brightest Diamond. Perhaps it's because Sufjan wanted to be a writer, and writers are at heart, storytellers, that Sufjan is comfortable with this.

It always struck me as strange how someone could be singing, dancing, gyrating and emoting on stage, and yet lacks the ability to string a few sentences together. It's a strange form of autism, I imagine.

Throughout the songs, there was a backdrop showing movies of some sort. This vaguely reminded me of Doves who also did something similar when I went to see them.

Sufjan doesn't sing songs as he breathes them. He sings a little bit above a whisper, a bit more alto than his speaking voice would lead you to believe.

One theme that seems to run through his songs is our need to connect with something larger. The stage was filled with blow-up Superman and Santa dolls. This reminded me of the recent Superman film, the one by Bryan Singer, where Lois has written an article about why the world doesn't need Superman, and the movie goes to show why Lois and the world does need Superman. Throughout, there is a tie between Superman and Jesus, though Jesus didn't seem to do a whole lot of flying.

Being a secularist, I see this imagery not so much as a belief in a higher being, but a need to simply believe, to aspire to something greater.

And some of that manifests itself in animals that fly. Superman flies. Santa sorta flies. At least, with reindeer. They both do good, though Santa tends to deliver bribes more than he does good. Eveyone on stage had these wings. Wings remind one of angels, but also reminds us of a desire to fly, to be more than we can be. Thus, his imagery is of real animals, butterflies and birds. Does he do this because we look at the world and aspire to be what other animals are? Or is it a subtle hint about angels? (Ignoring the fact that folks like Roger Ebert say that angels are not formerly living people, and were never people to begin with).

Sufjan sang The Predatory Wasp of the Palisades is Out to Get Us, which he renamed as a "bird wasp". Here, he tells the story of friend Franco that he met at a camp, who he discovers has the same birthday as him, even to the minute, and how he created a paper mache rooster, which was supposed to be some eagle. The story is rather lengthy and odd, but elicited laughters.

It made me think that the song, which some of debated as either being gay or being told from a girl's point of view, might actually be told from Franco's point of view, who was gay, and Sufjan was the guy he was attracted too, and at the time, neither knew how to react appropriately.

Anyway, file that under theory 173.

Sufjan seems to strike a good balance between group and individual, between loud and soft, between serious, and irreverent. In many ways, Sufjan doesn't seem to take himself that seriously. He appears to be a musical Charles Kuralt, going from place to place, imitating local customs, showing how people, like, cheerleaders for a college team, want to be part of something. It may be religion, it may be sports, but it's a desire to be part of something, and even if it's not exactly grand, nor perfect, it is who we are.

Perhaps Sufjan doesn't mean to say any of this. Maybe he finds dressing up on stage akin to some experience he had in high school or in college, and finds it's simply a lot of fun. But he's always managed to try to bridge this gap between seriousness and silliness, which is why he avoids discussion of religion, I think.

Look at the lyrics to Casimir Pulaski Day. This is, I've discovered, a real holiday, observed in Illinois. But the lyrics have more to do, it seems, with a lover who's fallen ill, and how prayer didn't seem to help. It takes a holiday observed within a state, and tells a very personal story that seems to question religion. An odd juxtaposition, and I think a much more realistic view of religion than is commonly attributed.

I thought it was odd, as Sufjan came to the end of his set, that he hadn't played Chicago, but alas, there was an encore, and Sufjan and his band came back fluttering on stage for a resounding encore of Chicago. Sufjan is heading off to Europe now to do his European leg.

It made me wonder how he manages these tours. He's typically going from one city to the next. Do you try to fly out that night and get in past midnight to the next city, so you can sleep in, and the team has time to prep for the next day? Or do you stay over at night, and fly in the next morning? Or do some people go right away, and some go the next day.

And how does Sufjan manage so many people. His tour consists of around a dozen people. And those blow-up dolls. He seems like he gives them away at every stop? How do they get so many? And what's the thinking behind, well, blow-up dolls?

Sometimes I wonder how accurate I am, speculating at a distance. Not very, I imagine.