Sprightly taking a center chair on Berklee's Cafe 939's huddled stage, Rosie Thomas began to unpack her soul through corny puns and tender folk songs. She was radiant in a girlish red dress, which boasted ample ruffling on each sleeve (an outfit she later revealed to have been homemade by her mother-in-law). Looking up through pixie bangs, she launched into what she described as "hit after hit" with songs that bookend her work from 2001's When We Were Small ("Wedding Day") to her 2006 album These Friends of Mind ("Much Farther to Go").
These familiar songs provided a foundation for an evening of music that gradually revealed what Rosie has been meditating upon in the waiting period between albums. Tonally, the new songs were driven by a crisp Americana beat as on "In Time" or almost a Folk&B vibe on "Over the Moon." It's less lush singer-songwriter than previous recordings, even without the strings and background vocals found on her new album, With Love.
The love theme, pinned to Rosie's dress and fixed on the drum kit, finds Rosie entering into a more confident place behind the microphone as she is emboldened in finding, rather than losing, love over the past few years. Sure, when the first miss-strummed notes were played, Rosie offered us a tender, "I'm sorry," but those opening nerves settled down and permitted her to send away her band for an extemporaneous monologue. She explained her passion for performing as bringing joy to others, that music was a chance to offer hope to a lot of lonely people.
In offering these reflections--straddling a piano bench and taking furtive licks from a lozenge that was constantly traveling from one corner of the stage to the next--Rosie began to share about an author whose work was the basis for two of her new songs. As she had never met this man, but was honored that he was attending the show, she just broke down. Rather than being an awkward moment in voyeuristic catharsis, we yearned to comfort Rosie, and this brought Don Snyder out of the crowd to offer a gigantic hug and hello. Her glee, and subsequent composure, was a fitting picture of how love and hope can bring beauty and restoration.
After watching Rosie Thomas play, I wonder if there is such a thing as too much intimacy between artist and audience. Musicians often hide behind artifice when performing, offering emotional distance from the audience. It makes sense, since we're all strangers gathered together for a few songs or a few beers. Yet, strong musical moments happen when the audience can somehow feel connected with the band. These moments can happen in an impromptu ad lib to introduce a song, or having the guitarist leap into an adoring crowd for a physical connection. For Rosie Thomas, sharing her jokes, songs, and stories all made for a night of connections, and made me look up Don Snyder's memoir Of Time and Memory. I guess that's the highest ideal for art--that it inspires one to continue searching for beauty or to make some of your own.
