Live Review: Joanna Newsom, Meg Baird

San Fran-based singer-songwriter Meg Baird strolls onto the large stage of QPAC's Concert Hall and makes a beeline to the lone seat in its very centre, sits down and plugs in her acoustic and with no further ado begins the gentle fingerpicking cascades which form the bones of her light, pastoral folk songs. A founding member of Philly freak-folk ensemble Espers, Baird's solo guise is distinguished by her breathy, floating vocals which lend great gravitas to her gently meandering tunes.

There's a large mountain vista shrouded with billowing clouds (an abstraction of the cover art for last year's Divers album) set up as a backdrop behind the stage as Joanna Newsom leads her four musical cohorts into the fray, taking her place behind her signature harp and unleashing that unmistakable voice on Bridges And Balloons — from her 2004 debut The Milk-Eyed Mender — as she nimbly plucks beautiful notes from the magnificent instrument before her, the band gradually joining in on the song as it gently builds and takes flight. She stands and moves to the grand piano towards the back of the stage and cheekily offers, "Thank you, Brissie," before introducing her talented band of instrumentalists — including arranger Ryan Francesconi, Australian violinist Mirabai Peart and Newsom's drummer brother Pete — and moving onto the sprightly Anecdotes, a song which comes across like as a suite as Newsom changes the timbre by moving from piano to harp and back again. Watching her wrangle the huge harp makes you feel like you've stepped back in time, the epic trance-like title track from Divers giving way to the lengthy narrative of Monkey & Bear, which they build into a massive crescendo.

Newsom's vocal gymnastics and idiosyncratic voice add to the celestial vibe during Goose Eggs — which finds her showing versatility behind the keyboards — while the frantic "cuckoo" refrain during In California adds some much-needed levity to the otherwise epic lament. Recent single Sapokanikan seems almost jaunty in comparison, reminiscent of Kate Bush not so much in sound but in that way it remoulds what's possible in a contemporary construct. The large crowd is transfixed by the performance slowly unveiling before them, tracks such as Leaving The City and Have One On Me offering such unique arrangements and perspectives that it's like a total assault on the senses and sensibilities. After emotional early number Peach, Plum, Pear Newsom is back on the piano for the heartfelt Waltz Of The 101st Lightborne, finishing an absorbing and immersive set with Cosmia and Time, As A Symptom which becomes massive as the drums kick in heavily for the first time all night and bring proceedings to a passionate finale. The crowd response is immense and prolonged and the band is soon coaxed back for the obligatory encore, running through Baby Birch before the band help each other recall the specifics of Good Intentions Paving Company — which apparently hasn't been trotted out for a number of years — to this time bring down the curtain (metaphorically) for good. This time the band is given a standing ovation, the crowd fully appreciative of this near two-hour journey through Newsom's peculiar and otherworldly genius.