"I see that some people brought vinyl records with them," Janis Ian said in the middle of the concert. The singer's old records, or to be more precise, a few copies of "Between the Lines," her most famous album were indeed spotted at the club, gripped by Ian's fans waiting for her to sign them after the concert ended.
There were times back in the 1970s when this terrific album spun on many record players in Israel and touched many women and possibly some men, who shared with Ian the pain of being lonely when they were in their teens and early 20s. This album is a beloved memento from that time, a slice of life, and one can understand why the singer's fans felt a need to bring it, in all its obsolete vinyl glory, to the meeting with her.
For better and worse, it was a meeting as much as it was a concert. It felt, especially during the first half, a little bit like a concert in an American book store to mark the release of Ian's autobiography: songs, stories and a light snack. The singer, who performed solo with a guitar, did not bother to dress up as "the artist," radiated rare warmth, told stories and if one is to believe what she said on stage, and there is no reason not to believe it, also stuck around to chat with the audience and sign records (and the autobiography too ) until the last person. For her fans, it was certainly a great pleasure.
However, for someone who did not bring an old vinyl record with him to the club and came solely to hear Ian sing her nice songs, this meeting-like approach was not problem-free. The stories Ian told about her mother, Joan Baez, the ups and downs of her career and about what it's like to be a lesbian in conservative America were amusing and touching, but they were stories, talk. It is not entirely clear why this singer, who knows how to tell her life story in song in such a moving, wise and captivating way, feels a need to also tell this story between the songs. If she had skipped three or four stories there would have been time for three or four more songs and a smoother musical flow, without verbal interruptions.
Those are the only reservations. As meeting-like as it was, it was in the end a concert. Ian is not just a gifted songwriter - she is also a fantastic singer. Except for a few hints of effort when going to a high register, her voice has kept amazingly well, and her singing was a fine example of comfortable, precise presentation of the highest musical caliber and full of emotion. Ian is also an excellent guitarist, although when I saw her in concert in New York over 10 years ago her playing was more intense and impressive.
Most of the audience were Ian's contemporaries (she is 61 ) or people a few years younger than her. There was also a smaller group of people aged 40 and under - one could bet quite safely that most of them learned to love Ian from their mothers. Toward the end of the concert, when it was time for Ian's two greatest hits, "At Seventeen" and "Jesse," I turned from the stage to glance at the woman who taught me to love Ian. She sang the words, or at least some of them, and her eyes seemed rather misty. Who knows what past experience comes back to her when she hears these notes. When "Jesse" ended and the lights came on, she said: "So we heard 'Jesse' and everything's okay so we can go home."
Janis Ian, Reading 3, Tel Aviv, 22.1
