Ann Vriend was smitten with her 'date' in Melbourne.
With Valentine’s Day just around the corner Ann Vriend is on her first ‘date’ in the plush, velvet-lined basement of Paris Cat.
Surrounded by flickering tealights, gilt-edged picture frames and portraits of jazz legends, she waxes lyrical about her amour. “Every piano is slightly different – like people, you know – and every time I perform on tour, it’s like a first date with them,” she purrs, caressing the keys with dexterous fingers. “This date is going well so far – I haven’t felt the need to suddenly rush off to wash my hair or anything!” The grand piano concurs. Under Vriend’s deft command, it yields like dough, building up crescendos and convincingly substituting for any other instrument with the slightest stroke. Not that they are needed. Vriend’s solo tour remains true to her latest, band-featured album For The People In The Mean Time. Alone in an intimate room such as this, her luminous talent takes centre stage.
She howls, croons, whistles, soars and whispers through her own blues-, soul- and jazz-inspired tracks, as well as a couple of cheeky covers. “I don’t know what this song is about, and you probably don’t know what it’s about either,” she teases before belting out a soaring rendition of Stand By Your Man, artfully arranging the climactic chorus to her lower-but-piercing vocals. The packed room erupts into applause as she gives the keys a grand flourish. Tammy Wynette would be proud. Steve Miller Band’s The Joker is also given an uplift with her wry nuance, oblique glances and knowing smiles delivered to the audience.
An evening with Vriend is well worth the value. Apart from showcasing her multi-octave vocals in each track, she skillfully greases through the breaks and dispels any mystery. With self-deprecating humour, she quickly builds a close audience rapport that Billboard chart-topping performers could only dream of. “Please note that this is one of the rare occasions where the songwriter is writing a song about being a songwriter… and it’s actually a happy song!” A Need So Wide (You’re The One) follows. It’s a jaunty, infectious number that complements some of her slower, smokier tracks such as the country-flavoured Everybody Sings In Nashville, the poignant Long Distance Call and Tin Man.
Hailing from the rough and gritty surrounds of Alberta, Canada, Vriend is much inspired by the tragic circumstances of her homeless neighbours and drug addicts (see the ballad Rush Of Your Wings). As a counterpoint, Invisible perfectly captures the rage and self-destruction of those who are cocooned in their substance-addled world. Momentarily forgetting the location of the backstage, she moves nimbly over to the wings and consciously wraps a velvet curtain around her until we call for an encore.
She delivers and, like her ‘date’, we are smitten. A perfect show for lovers of the New York-style jazz scene.