News: Naples Daily News Concert Review (November 19, 2007)

Victoria Macchi’s review of the November 17th show at The Mann Performing Arts Center appeared in the November 19th edition of The Naples Daily News. Seems that nobody loves the Isabel…. sniff

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An alter ego upsets straightforward review of Tori Amos’ repertoire

By VICTORIA MACCHI Special to the Daily News
Monday, November 19, 2007

She glided onto the Barbara B. Mann stage in Ft. Myers Saturday night, lit cigarette in hand, a fringe of white-blond bangs heavy over her eyes.

It was the Tori Amos concert, but it wasn’t Tori. It was Isabel, one of the signer’s four alter-egos from the American Doll Posse album and tour.

The concept of four personalities — Pip, Clyde, Isabel, and Santa — one of whom opens for Tori at each show, is interesting in theory. The sedate Isabel, however, is a tough musical pill to swallow.

Frosty and uncommunicative with the audience, Isabel set the tone for the first set with “Yo George.” the singer-songwriter’s anti-Bush anthem off“American Doll Posse,” her latest disc.

But the lack of interaction with the crowd was uninspiring. It may be part of Isabel’s “personality,” but in an intimate venue like Barbara B. Mann Performing Arts Halls, where spectators in the front are close enough to see the details of her sky-high pumps, geometric print wrap dress, and straw-like blonde wig, not addressing the people who paid to see you for the first third of your show seems, well, obnoxious.

Moments of showmanship, like Isabel playing the piano with her left hand and the keyboard with her right on “Sweet Dreams,” come off as cocky rather than inspired. With her bassist, guitarist and drummer spread to the corners of the stage, the eye focuses on Isabel — but gets little in return. On “Scarlet’s Walk,” her use of an electric lantern as a prop, swinging from Isabel’s left hand while she played the keyboard with the right, seemed gimmicky. A weak and wobbly light that didn’t hold a candle to the power of Amos’ lyrics, which often address religion, sexual assault and personal tragedies.

But then Tori came out to play.

With a carrot orange waist-length hair and sequined, blue, one-shouldered catsuit, the artist who emerged after intermission was a vision of camp virtuosity. Tori waved and smiled, looking into the audience for the first time.

With a heavy rotation off of her 2002 “Scarlet’s Walk” album rather than “American Doll Posse,” Tori’s voice came through with more confidence and emotion in the second set.

She seemed to fall into rapture with her music; one foot on the ground and the other on the piano bench, she launched into the raucous “Big Wheel” while grinding her piano bench. The crowd loved her passion and in return, her performance soared. Spectators embraced the oozing sexiness that continued into “Pancake,” and Tori played into the rise she was giving them.

By the fourth song of the set, “Cornflake girl,” Tori was at her most natural. She visibly let loose, body and voice feeling the music.

For a brief set without her band, Tori’s rendition of “Seaside” and a breathy version of “Silent All These Years,” was the concert’s zenith. The showmanship was gone, the voice was pure, and the emotion, so naked in the songs’ lyrics, emerged. Even the gaggle of drunk girls in the front of the concert hall – at whom Tori repeatedly shot “shut up and listen” looks — shut up and listened.

She eased into “Suede” and “Black Dove,” then “A Sorta Fairytale” and “Bouncing Off Clouds.”

Although the second set proved a better show, what lacked from the concert was a sense of adventure that Tori exhibits in her songs. Without the risks of a new take on an old song, or a mash-up medley, Tori’s show boiled down to a straightforward review of her repertoire.