Kate Bollinger and the Beak Trio achieved something rare at the Black Cat, mixing unconventional instrumentation and stage personalities that opened up to unexplored sonic territories. During opener Beak Trio’s performance, an “experimental” double bass, banjo, and drums act, I was most inspired by each musician’s animated physicality. Each member was exploding with passion for the instrument they played, their bodies becoming extensions of their instruments. Hands were moving, pounding, and plucking frenetically across metal strings and drumsticks. I’d never seen a double bass played that way, amped up, bowed, plucked, sawed with appropriate monstrous force, playfully existing between the lines of the banjo and drums. This was the first time I’d heard three instruments, double bass, banjo, and drums, that together created such an alternative space charged with mounting intensity.
The banjoist, Will Bollinger, is Kate Bollinger’s brother, though many mistook the double bassist for her sibling. Together with the double bassist, Kevin Eichenberger, and drummer James Gibian, they presented some electrifying, head banging music, breaking the reality of the physical expectations of each instrument and ultimately taking us to a realm where acoustic, folk, jazz, rock, and electronic genres exist together. I wouldn’t call the band experimental–they know quite clearly what they are doing, translating passion into controlled chaos that had the crowd moving in a collective frenzy.
The Beak Trio got the crowd primed for Kate Bollinger, who stunned with a shy and ethereal stage presence. Dressed in creamy heels, dark purple tights, and a calf-length yellow collared shirt topped with a plaid coat, she looked like she’d stepped out of a vintage film. Bollinger opened with a comment about looking forward to seeing her mother the next day, making the concert feel like an assortment of intimate players. The supporting band was similarly stylish, and together they created an atmosphere where songs flowed like one continuous narrative, each track melting seamlessly into the next.
When performing, Bollinger often closes her eyes and sings so softly that the mic captures the striking inflections of her lyrics. She looks like a woman in love, singing a lullaby; I was enraptured the entire time. There was a set list that I was lucky enough to get my hands on, but the night essentially swam from one song to another.
The lights dimmed from one song to the next as the stage got hotter and the songs even more gauzy and abstract. At one point a fan was introduced on stage, and Bollinger continued to sing with the wind blowing in her hair, an effect that was not intentional but fairly magical.
As both acts continue to evolve, I sense they’re on the edge of something momentous. These are artists who have found their definitive voice and style but are far from finished exploring its possibilities. These musicians represent an exciting move into new artistic territory—one we’re lucky to witness in these intimate venues while we still can.
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