What a strange year it’s been. Live music increasingly feels like a distant memory. Other than seeing a friend perform, this has been my first concert in almost a year, when I saw Bernadette La Hengst and the Chor der Statistik during the brief lull between lockdowns. I’ve made some of my own music and written some record reviews, but lately I’ve been busy with a new job and other life changes.
I’m still pretty skeptical about attending large indoor shows (and they aren’t really happening here anyway), but when I heard about a release party for a feminist songbook from Ich brauche eine Genie in the garden of ://about blank, that got my attention. The legendary sisters behind the Ich brauche eine Genie series, Kerstin and Sandra Grether, are charming and unbelievably enthusiastic. You couldn’t ask for better hosts or moderators for an event like this. They’re full of praise and humor, and they have an amusing ability to finish each other’s sentences and pick up right where the other left off.
The night opened with their own band, The Doctorella, which is indie rock with lyrics in the same delightful vein as their personalities. They were followed by Matching Outfits, whose intricate instrumental interplay and amusing lyrics were only outshone by their truly impressive three-part harmonies. Then came Babsi Tollwut, who rapped solid texts against the patriarchy, and Katrin Achinger, formerly of Kastrierte Philosophen, who claimed she hadn’t performed live in 20 years. I wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t said it; her voice and guitarwork were as dexterous as ever.
At that point, the pace of the evening sped up and the rest of the artists only performed one or two brief songs. It all went by in a bit of a blur, and I’ve probably left a name or two out or mixed up the ordering. Bernadette La Hengst, formerly of Die Braut haut ins Auge, played a keyboard and sang a song with her daughter. Drunk at Your Wedding told stories of travel on the cheap and sang about the kindness of strangers. FaulenzA played an accordion and spoke out against hyperconsumerism. Malonda rapped about embracing the fire inside and brought a friend to dance with her and through the audience.
Around that point, the clock struck 10 and no more music was allowed to be played (although the neighboring club somehow didn’t seem to obey that rule). The show carried on nonetheless with spoken word and a capella renditions. Annette Benjamin, formerly of Hans-A-Plast, read aloud the sarcastic classic “Für ’ne Frau”. Safi turned her songs in poetic mystery. Parole Trixi, Sandra Grether’s “other” band, turned their winding lyrics into scenic slam poetry. Die Supererbin told us tales of sexism and stress under lockdown. Hannsjana gave us another dose of humor against regressive reactionaries. And finally, The Toten Crackhuren im Kofferraum sang and acted out their frustrations with the job center and social judgment.
After a few closing remarks from the Grether sisters and their publisher, that was that! I naturally made a stop at the merch booth and picked up a copy of the book. The Grethers had explained that part of their inspiration was frustration with the lack of representation of women in major music media and festivals, and so they wanted to create something that would celebrate the many women artists that risked being left out once again. It’s a hefty book full of pictures, lyrics, art, and ephemera from 70+ performers. Most of the musicians are fairly new and young, but there are a few old favorites in there, too, like Malaria!, Gudrun Gut, Die Lassie Singers, Britta, and the aforementioned Die Braut haut ins Auge and Hans-A-Plast. Barbara Morgenstern, who I saw a couple years ago playing with Britta, is also present, along with all of the acts who performed at the release party and many more. It’s a really nicely put together collection!
Showing posts with label Bernadette La Hengst. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bernadette La Hengst. Show all posts
Sunday, August 15, 2021
Sunday, September 20, 2020
Bernadette La Hengst & der Chor der Statistik - Live 2020.09.19 Haus der Statistik, Berlin, Germany
This has been a hard year for most people. I’m not going to pretend that I’ve had it as hard as most. That said, it’s probably obvious that I’ve missed seeing live music. It’s one of the only forms of social entertainment that I especially enjoy and engage with. It’s one of the few things that actually makes me feel connected to the world around me. I much prefer writing about live music to recorded music, so I’ve been pretty quiet here. The stress and the anxiety of the world, and particularly in the USA, haven’t helped. I’ve barely wanted to leave the house for six months now. But I have the luxury of living in Germany, and things are relatively safe here. So I finally decided it was okay to see a free, open-air concert in a low-key environment. There won’t be many weekends left with good weather, so I don’t know how many opportunities I’ll have like this before winter comes.
Anyway, the Haus der Statistik played host to an event with workshops, presentations, and live music. The building is the former statistics office of the DDR that has largely fallen into disuse. It sits just off Alexanderplatz in the center of the city. It seems to be indefinitely under construction but in the meantime is home to an artist collective, who have dubbed the area “Allesandersplatz” (“Everything-Different-Place”). The main draw for me was Bernadette La Hengst (formerly of Die Braut haut ins Auge), who performed a set accompanied by the Chor der Statistik, a large, casual choir. These sorts of choirs are in vogue in Berlin, and they seem like a lot of fun. Bernadette made it clear that the choir was open to everyone interested, and she invited the audience to spontaneously join in as well.
Bernadette and the choir played songs from throughout her career, including a song or two from Die Braut haut ins Auge, and consistent themes were solidarity, social and economic justice, and unity across borders. For most songs, the only instrumentation was her guitar, and the songs were arranged to accentuate harmonies and multiple vocal parts. The choir didn’t strike me as a professional unit, but rather a casual collective of people that shared a political outlook and a desire to have fun in a productive outlet. That said, I didn’t hear any jarring disharmony or missed notes, and in fact I was impressed with the arrangements, the performance, and the sustained jovial atmosphere.
The final two songs were particularly notable. The penultimate was a cover of Palais Schaumburg’s classic “Wir bauen eine neue Stadt”. Bernadette played along with a drum machine, which gave her enough space to add some lead guitar flourishes. With the choir singing various overlaid parts, it made for a more relaxed, less skittish rendition. For a song ostensibly about post-war reconstruction with metaphorical overtones of anti-capitalist, independent artistic creation, the scenery was perfect: the stage was surrounded by piles of stone and concrete in the parking lot of a semi-abandoned building from a government that doesn’t really exist anymore.
The final song was a version of Beethoven’s “Ode an die Freude” (“Ode to Joy”), with lyrics adapted from the original by Friedrich Schiller. Taking inspiration from the fact that the music (but not the words) are used as the European anthem, Bernadette (along with fellow choir enthusiast Barbara Morgenstern) composed new multilingual lyrics explicitly embracing diversity and open borders.
This was a thoroughly pleasant experience, and presumably reasonably safe, since there was plenty of room to spread out. If this is how we have to do live music for the time being, I’m on board.
Score: B+
P.S. Thanks to Lutz!
Anyway, the Haus der Statistik played host to an event with workshops, presentations, and live music. The building is the former statistics office of the DDR that has largely fallen into disuse. It sits just off Alexanderplatz in the center of the city. It seems to be indefinitely under construction but in the meantime is home to an artist collective, who have dubbed the area “Allesandersplatz” (“Everything-Different-Place”). The main draw for me was Bernadette La Hengst (formerly of Die Braut haut ins Auge), who performed a set accompanied by the Chor der Statistik, a large, casual choir. These sorts of choirs are in vogue in Berlin, and they seem like a lot of fun. Bernadette made it clear that the choir was open to everyone interested, and she invited the audience to spontaneously join in as well.
Bernadette and the choir played songs from throughout her career, including a song or two from Die Braut haut ins Auge, and consistent themes were solidarity, social and economic justice, and unity across borders. For most songs, the only instrumentation was her guitar, and the songs were arranged to accentuate harmonies and multiple vocal parts. The choir didn’t strike me as a professional unit, but rather a casual collective of people that shared a political outlook and a desire to have fun in a productive outlet. That said, I didn’t hear any jarring disharmony or missed notes, and in fact I was impressed with the arrangements, the performance, and the sustained jovial atmosphere.
The final two songs were particularly notable. The penultimate was a cover of Palais Schaumburg’s classic “Wir bauen eine neue Stadt”. Bernadette played along with a drum machine, which gave her enough space to add some lead guitar flourishes. With the choir singing various overlaid parts, it made for a more relaxed, less skittish rendition. For a song ostensibly about post-war reconstruction with metaphorical overtones of anti-capitalist, independent artistic creation, the scenery was perfect: the stage was surrounded by piles of stone and concrete in the parking lot of a semi-abandoned building from a government that doesn’t really exist anymore.
The final song was a version of Beethoven’s “Ode an die Freude” (“Ode to Joy”), with lyrics adapted from the original by Friedrich Schiller. Taking inspiration from the fact that the music (but not the words) are used as the European anthem, Bernadette (along with fellow choir enthusiast Barbara Morgenstern) composed new multilingual lyrics explicitly embracing diversity and open borders.
This was a thoroughly pleasant experience, and presumably reasonably safe, since there was plenty of room to spread out. If this is how we have to do live music for the time being, I’m on board.
Score: B+
P.S. Thanks to Lutz!
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