CHARLES AZNAVOUR AT ALBERT HALL, SW7
The Times, UK
Oct 28 2013
by : Clive Davis
Not far off his 90th birthday, Charles Aznavour still looks and
sounds remarkably spry. Even if he playfully apologised for having
an Autocue to help with the lyrics at this London show, the grand
old man of chanson had the dapper, twinkle-eyed bearing of someone
a full generation younger.
Towards the end of his career, Frank Sinatra sometimes seemed
alarmingly vulnerable - the night when he forgot how to make his way
to the exit on this very same stage is etched in my memory. Aznavour,
the Armenian-born equivalent of the Chairman of the Board, always
looked in command.
Since this was his first London appearance in many a year, there was
heightened emotion in the arena. The standing ovation he received
as he made his entrance was the least he deserved. The applause was
just as tumultuous at the close, even though the concert itself was
fatally undermined by a clunking, Seventies-era backing band and an
even more inelegant sound mix.
Some of his anthems may be overly sentimental, but the best of
Aznavour's songs have the delicacy of operatic arias. He is a master
storyteller, yet on a night when his drummer slammed away in the
background and the banks of keyboards generated a swirling, electronic
mush it was often impossible to hear more than fragments of the lyrics.
In the end, we had to be satisfied with glimpses of a legendary
talent. The rare occasions when he and his pianist were alone together
were certainly moments to cherish. Aznavour's gifts as an actor shone
on La Bohème, although the scuffle among the trio of fans trying
to grab the handkerchief he ritually tossed in the air at the end
was a mite distracting. Elsewhere, he cut through the aural fog on a
defiant Mes Emmerdes. And you could only marvel at What Makes A Man,
a song about homosexuality which was, in its time, even bolder than
Michael Douglas's Enhanced Coverage LinkingMichael Douglas's -Search
using:Biographies Plus NewsNews, Most Recent 60 Daysdecision to bare
all as Liberace.
From: A. Papazian
The Times, UK
Oct 28 2013
by : Clive Davis
Not far off his 90th birthday, Charles Aznavour still looks and
sounds remarkably spry. Even if he playfully apologised for having
an Autocue to help with the lyrics at this London show, the grand
old man of chanson had the dapper, twinkle-eyed bearing of someone
a full generation younger.
Towards the end of his career, Frank Sinatra sometimes seemed
alarmingly vulnerable - the night when he forgot how to make his way
to the exit on this very same stage is etched in my memory. Aznavour,
the Armenian-born equivalent of the Chairman of the Board, always
looked in command.
Since this was his first London appearance in many a year, there was
heightened emotion in the arena. The standing ovation he received
as he made his entrance was the least he deserved. The applause was
just as tumultuous at the close, even though the concert itself was
fatally undermined by a clunking, Seventies-era backing band and an
even more inelegant sound mix.
Some of his anthems may be overly sentimental, but the best of
Aznavour's songs have the delicacy of operatic arias. He is a master
storyteller, yet on a night when his drummer slammed away in the
background and the banks of keyboards generated a swirling, electronic
mush it was often impossible to hear more than fragments of the lyrics.
In the end, we had to be satisfied with glimpses of a legendary
talent. The rare occasions when he and his pianist were alone together
were certainly moments to cherish. Aznavour's gifts as an actor shone
on La Bohème, although the scuffle among the trio of fans trying
to grab the handkerchief he ritually tossed in the air at the end
was a mite distracting. Elsewhere, he cut through the aural fog on a
defiant Mes Emmerdes. And you could only marvel at What Makes A Man,
a song about homosexuality which was, in its time, even bolder than
Michael Douglas's Enhanced Coverage LinkingMichael Douglas's -Search
using:Biographies Plus NewsNews, Most Recent 60 Daysdecision to bare
all as Liberace.
From: A. Papazian