Being in NGV after hours always feels like gaining accidental admittance to an exclusive party designed for the well dressed, friendly elite. A crowd spanning multiple generations packed into the exhibition space early on before retreating to the comfortable bar and performance area. The extensive selection of Italian masterpieces charmed, showcasing impressive realism, a large helping of ecclesiastical imagery and particularly affecting baroque still lifes.
The artwork mightn’t be viscerally thrilling but it certainly commands reverence. This made the night’s musical entertainment a perfect complement. Kirin J Callinan deals largely in irreverence, but he has an undeniably awe-striking presence. Even for people who aren’t objectively fond of what he does (and there was probably a few in the house tonight) it’d be hard not to get drawn in.
Since releasing Embracism 12 months ago, Callinan’s been touring non-stop. He’s long been a captivating solo performer and has now transitioned into presenting rock shows of the highest order. His three band members – keyboardist Tex Crick (who resembles a nihilist from The Big Lebowski), drummer Dave Jenkins and bass player Aaron Cupples – are integral links in this almost unfathomable version of a rock band.
Callinan inhabits explicitly idiosyncratic terrain, but he’s not limited by the aesthetic adventurousness. The setlist overflowed with highlights, from abrasive hard dance numbers C’mon USA and Way II War, to mock-mouthed anthems Victoria M and Love Delay, and the gloriously empowered diatribe, Landslide. It all came together, leaving the impression of what you might hear encouraging the counter-culture breakaways in a dystopian setting, a la Terry Gilliam’s Brazil. In that dystopia it’s likely that simply witnessing Callinan’s guitar sounds would be a crime, such is the soul-pervading noise rebellion.
Kirin’s massive overseas exploits haven’t dampened the immense passion he puts into each performance. Tonight, as he channelled provocative energies, he maintained awareness of this particular moment. Nowhere was this more evident than in show closing (solo and sans-guitar) number, The Toddler. The song lucidly exhibited how Callinan’s utterly committed to this moment of expression, whether or not it’s to your taste. Even though he doesn’t vie for approval, he does really want you to be part of it, which made for an especially enthralling performance.
Kirin J Callinan has always been in his element on stage, but the live show’s never been this world class.
BY AUGUSTUS WELBY
Loved: It.
Hated: That it’s KJC’s last Melbourne gig for the year.
Drank: Quiet Deeds.
