Martin Longley concludes his week of guitar fetishism…
Pierre Bensusan
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Some artists are destined to trade on a specific appeal, instilled in players of their shared instrument. Guitars are probably the most popular choice of all, for amateurs and professionals alike, so this French picker has a pre-existing audience of willing supplicants.
Pierre Bensusan appeared in the intimate surroundings of this arts centre’s Hexagon Theatre, where seats are stacked up in micro-collosseum fashion. His current tour celebrates forty years on the road, which are viewed by Bensusan as being akin to some never-ending global tour. He seemed pleased about this situation, though, and set off on a single set that would eventually run to over ninety minutes, becoming quite a challenge when sitting in seats which feel more cramped than usual without the relief of an intermission. The theatre’s vertical incline is somewhat sharp.
The nature of solo guitar music is such that it’s best heard with a break in the middle, but Bensusan felt compelled to play a single chunk, fearing the potential dispersal caused by a global sporting event that this column is determined not to name. In itself, the playing was impressive in its technical mastery, full of inspired decoration, finger-twisting flourishes and emphatic drama.
Unfortunately, as the tunes accumulated, they began to sound worryingly similar, most of them being original compositions. Fiddling with his laptop, Bensusan was seemingly in control of his sound balance, adding reverb which was too much, and powering the p.a. speakers too high in such a close-quartered space.
Bensusan’s singing sounded closest to a flighty Cameroonian weightlessness, as mastered by Richard Bona, possibly with Brazilian influences, but once again, as the Frenchman slipped in a vocal number here and there, they ended up being very close bedfellows, melodically speaking. The nature of the themes were sometimes quite bland, but Bensusan was clearly impressing many members of the specialised gathering, as he reminisced about the guitar lineage called up by various tune dedications and stylistic cap-doffings.
Ultimately, he offered a personalised string-language that shied away from being termed jazz, blues, gypsy, classical or folk, flirting with aspects of all these. Whether this made Bensusan’s music aimlessly undecided or poly-culturally diverse, it was in the ears of the audience to decide.
