Talisman

It was not what I had expected at all. Before last Friday night, the word “Talisman” made me think only of spirituals, hymns and prayers. I walked into the concert expecting to see an hour and a half of rich and soulful vocals—that thick, syrupy sound that a gospel choir in a gargantuan church seems produce effortlessly. What I experienced did not meet my expectations, but surprised me in a very powerful way. This element of surprise, along with the spiritual nature of the program worked synergistically to create an intense emotional experience for me. Surprise came in many different forms; while I expected to see a group of about twenty people standing in a horseshoe formation, singing spirituals in four part (SATB) harmony, what I witnessed was a combination of dramatic lyrical interpretation, readings of literary passages and storytelling woven into their musical program, thus creating a sort of patchwork quilt of performance artistry, not only pleasing to the ear, but to the eye as well. I was particularly shocked to see rappers from Palo Alto perform alongside these 23 singers. In quite a different way, I was blown away by a performance piece which began with a mass muddle of voices and opinions clashing, then a startling period of silence, punctuated by the start of 23 voices singing together. I can say, without hesitation, that Talisman presented a wealth of talent, creativity, experimental expression, and variety in their performance, which did not meet my expectations, but surpassed them.

The rich hum of the larger than usual alto and bass sections reverberated with a soothing timbre underneath the virtuosic, acrobatic or sometimes frenetic vocals, which appeared in some melodic lines. Overall, Talisman blended so well, that they often sounded as one, polyphonic voice. This voice, at different times, seemed to take the form of a mother telling her child a bedtime story, a man begging for basic human rights, a child asking a question about the direction of life, or any number of imaginable characters.

It seemed as though every piece either managed to tell a story of human struggle in the face of crisis, or was alive with human celebration of life, love, culture, family, identity, and miracles. There appeared to be a strong connectedness between the singers and the music; every person on stage was immersed in the culture, community, and sentimentality represented by each vignette. Talisman’s attention to presentation contributed to their ability to tell a story each time as well. Several stylistic elements of the program struck me as quite original, in particular the way in which these 23 singers physically aligned themselves prior to, as well as during vocalization. Not only did these formations contribute to the mood and visual aesthetic appeal of the piece as a whole, but it was clear that these formations were trading on sound quality as well.

Additionally, it was clear that the singers understood, in this context, that the body was not just a medium of vocal expression, standing on stage limp, along for the ride so-to-speak; it was there in order to convey certain sentiments to the audience, that otherwise could have gotten lost. In my experience of watching the swaying of gospel choirs, and even the pop-and-lock dance moves of Justin Timberlake to “Sexy Back”, I have discovered that the sight of bodies moving to music through space and time can create tension in one’s own body. This innate urge to respond to an aural stimulus with physical movement is just one part of what makes us human. During all parts of the show, I felt, in my body, the urge to move, in order to release this built up emotional tension. This is not to say that I was in any sense “dancing in the aisles”, which has always seemed to me a preposterous thing to cite in a review. All I wish to say here is that I picked up on some of the singers’ more subtle physical cues, which helped me to follow, and feel at the most basic level what those on stage must have been feeling.

While the phrase “text painting” refers to the process of making the score of a song match its literal meaning. When I was watching Talisman perform, I thought of a new phrase: “dance painting”. However, it doesn’t quite work in the same exact fashion as “text painting”, for it is clear that it was the music, and not the physical movements, which came first. One of the best examples of this “dance painting” was during a song with a wide dynamic range. As the music got louder, the performers would swing and sway faster, maintaining good posture and looking straight ahead. However, as the music got quieter, the lower to the ground the singers seemed to become. This reminded me of one of my favorite scenes in cinematic history—The dance to “SHOUT” in “Animal House”, in which every single person at the fraternity party finds themselves literally lying on the ground at the ultimate dynamic valley in the song. This, while it may seem out of context, provides a good example of what I mean by “dance painting”. Each member of Talisman seemed to understand how constant physical augmentation of the shape of one’s body has the ability to change the aesthetic appeal of the song, and even more successfully provoke emotions in audience members. Singing is a full body exercise, so changing the way your body is situated on stage, or even moving while singing has effects on the sound of the music as well.

Therefore, I found that in terms of sound-quality and emotional impact on the audience, both the physical movements of the individuals, as well as the group movements contributed in a very positive way.

Finally, I would like to revisit the idea of connectedness. Each member of Talisman appeared to be connected, not only to the lyrics, music and other artistic elements of the songs they were performing, but also seemed to be very connected to one another. One of the most moving experiences in this entire show was the final song, in which Talisman Alumni were invited on stage. More than sixty people flooded the stage, but shockingly the sound quality didn’t seem to change, nor did the previous sense of emotion or connectedness that I alluded to before. No. This group’s alumni blended in as though they had been rehearsing with the current members for years. My eyes scanned the faces of each person on the stage; each one represented something different in terms of culture, heritage, and perhaps even values and beliefs, but they were all brought together by one thing… the music they love.