Arie is a performer who pairs sassy, spiritual lyrics with her strong voice, modesty with confidence, and individuality with a connection to her audience and her past. I was pleased to see that her talents translated astoundingly well into a live performance.
This past Sunday evening, Arie staged her concert at Mount Holyoke's Chapin Hall, which looks more like New York City's Bowery Ballroom than it does a college auditorium. Packed into the large, yet informal, space was an extremely enthusiastic, predominantly college-aged, female audience. The opening band's several references to the fact that it would be "a ladies' party tonight" only served to excite us more.
The New York City-based band Esmerelda introduced Arie. Having listened to Arie's album before the concert, Esmerelda's unexceptional indie pop did not seem to jive with Arie's soulful self-love message.
Still, Esmerelda served its purpose as a crowd-warmer, though I wonder if our thoughts of India.Arie's beautiful music would have served just as well. Arie took the stage with her acoustic guitar and her two back-up singers outfitted in her signature funky style. She started off the concert with an acoustic set, commenting that she wanted to get back to her roots. After all, she started singing in the parks of Savannah, Ga. accompanied only by her guitar.
Arie seemed to feel the warmth of the audience right away and told us to sing along to her songs if we knew them "so we can be one breath." Arie continued to stress the importance of her connection to her audience throughout the evening.
Arie's first song, "Intro," pays homage to her connection with the great musicians of the past who paved the way for her career. Afterwards, Arie chose to share a song that she did not record for "Acoustic Soul."
The next song she performed, "India's Song," is a haunting reflection on slavery. It finds Arie sitting under a tree in Savannah, wondering if a black man had been hung on that tree at some point in the past. Arie's faith often came out in the lyrics, especially at the end when she sings, "Spirit knows no color, you're either a lover or a hater."
After the acoustic numbers, Arie welcomed her band onto the stage. Arie's beautiful, expressive voice rang out in "I See God in You." In the funniest moment of the evening, a guy from the audience made his way on the stage during the song. An embarrassed Arie finished the song flawlessly. When he had returned to the audience, she confessed that she was "all blushing because he's fine."
She further commented that she "should shut up before his girl gets mad at me." Arie's endearing personality is a large part of her stage appeal. She is a cool, sassy woman as well as a talented musician.
The highlights of the concert were "Video" and "Brown Skin." "Video" is Arie's statement of self-confidence. In stating her understanding of the importance of loving herself even if she is "not the average girl in the video," she imparts a non-cheesy message of self-love onto her audience.
In "Brown Skin," Arie is so connected to her lover that she cannot tell her skin from his. The song dissolved into a charged jam session, featuring the incredible talents in Arie's band. Arie's ability to whip a crowd into a frenzy was never more apparent than at that point, when all hell broke loose.
Throughout the concert, Arie spoke of the power of words, her belief that the words we say re-enter our bodies. What we say makes things happen, we are more connected to our words than we realize.
There is no better reflection of her connection to words than her song "Ready for Love," which she closed with. "Ready for Love" is an achingly beautiful statement that she is waiting for love to come along.
Though we had been relentlessly chatty throughout the concert, the audience fell completely silent when Arie sang. The beauty of the melody and of Arie's voice, as well as the heartfelt questions she asked, rendered "Ready for Love" a haunting end to the evening. Arie is a rare find, a talented songwriter, skilled guitar player, brilliant vocalist and dynamic personality.