Enchanting night at Evening Hymns’ Summerworks CD release show in Toronto

By: Sarah MacDonald –

Evening Hymns in Toronto. August 17, 2012. Photo: Sarah MacDonald

There is a quality in intimate shows that may get lost in the scope of music. The best ones are where people sit cramped on the ground and drink beers with their arms wrapped around their legs and head cocked, swaying, and feel noise reverberate through the floor.

At these shows you’re enraptured because everything is so close you can almost taste it; the music is practically tangible. Some bands thrive on the intimacy of a crowd who soak up the music in a way not possible in large venues or arenas because their audience is so immediate. These are the shows you live for.

Opening act Fiver set the evening for this intimate show; establishing a storytelling atmosphere that worked well within the scope of the eccentric theatricality of the SummerWorks Festival. “These songs were meant to be listened to for the depth in the lyrics, like in stories,” said singer Simone Schmidt.

Evening Hymns know how to work a small crowd in a micro amphitheatre setting. Playing at the Theatre Centre as part of the SummerWorks festival, this particular show was special for two reasons: the first being the festival and secondly because it marked the release of their latest record, Spectral Dusk.

“I have to relax. I’m supposed to enjoy this, I think,” said a jittery Jonas Bonnetta.

Evening Hymns whizzed through many of their newest songs, like “Arrows”, “You and Jake”, “Family Tree”, and even included the introductory trumpet part of the original “Moon River” by before Bonnetta strummed and crooned on his own song of the same name.  They also played many older songs like “Cedars” and “Dead Deer.” Bonnetta dedicated “Broken Rifle” off of Spirit Guides to Toronto band The Wooden Sky, who played an integral role in the recording of Spectral Dusk.

Fiver in Toronto. August 17, 2012. Photo: Sarah MacDonald

Stage banter is endearing in any sort of venue but it’s even more charming when a man in a wide brimmed hat with the best beard of anyone ever talks to a crowd who have permanent looks of awe on their face. Bonnetta told the crowd stories, quips, and appeared nervous and flustered. When he began to strum, however, all the worry melted off his face (or he so easily made it seem) and a confidence emerged from him.

As if we didn’t already want to be out in the wilderness surrounded around a camp fire being told these stories, blankets and tree branches littered the small stage and made you wish someone would (or could) start a bonfire.

A piece of mastery on its own, Spectral Dusk feels like two different records. There is the record you listen to on what Bonnetta called, and aptly captured, “a rainy Monday afternoon.” And then there is the record you hear live: a celebratory piece weaving through the motions of life and death and life again, illuminated—literally—with a stunning backdrop of handmade art as it is happening. It was stunning performed live, in any case.