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MARCH 26, 1998
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Source: Publiczny Dostep do Internetu
http://www.pdi.net/~eristic/yes/review_1_warsaw.html
Yes in Poland: Warsaw Concert Review: 26 March 1998
By Christopher Currie
A character in one of Stephen King's novels observes that the excitement of
the first-time sexual experience is often lost on the more introspective
natures: instead of letting go and enjoying the act, some guys will hold
back and just observe themselves and the partner, with slight disbelief at
what's unfolding... "oh, so this is how it feels; hey, is it really me
doing that?" I found this to be very true about my first-ever experience of
Yes live on stage. Perhaps waiting for something to happen for nearly 16
years is the worst spoiler of all; perhaps I am a bit dulled from having
heard, hundreds of times, all the songs in countless versions, official and
otherwise; but most of all, I think, my experience of the show was more of
an observer than a participant. This is perhaps not unusual and not
necessarily wrong: I know the music well but I'd never actually been to a
live rock show before. I'd come to look as much as to listen.
The above will explain, I hope, the nature of my reviews of all the three
shows Yes gave in Poland in March 1998. The setlist was basically the same
as during the rest of the European shows, and only a slight modification of
the American leg of the tour that had concluded in December '97. What can
be said about the perfection of And You And I or the dramatics of Heart of
the Sunrise that hasn't been said many times over before? This is why, most
of the time, I will be concentrating on issues that will appear tangential
or anecdotal to some; but these very things were what I was looking for in
the shows: the things that I had not, before, seen or known.
There weren't any posters around the Warsaw city center (no booty for me
:)) but all three shows were sold out all the same. I arrived around noon,
and the first glimpse of Yes in real life I had was the sight of the three
huge, gray trucks parked, shingle-style, in front of the concert venue,
with dimmed yellow Transam Trucking Ltd logos on the sides and a fax number
in Sheffield, England on the back. Further on I found one of the two tour
buses, parked so close to the "private" entrance that the band could
probably just jump into it without ever stepping on the yard. No sight of
the band themselves, though - and not until the last show in Poznan.
The venue, "Sala Kongresowa" (which translates into "Congress Hall" though
it isn't really) is located on the ground floor of the huge and ugly Warsaw
landmark: the Russian-built Palace of Culture. Those who have ever seen a
postcard from Warsaw probably saw it already; Americans may be familiar
with similarly huge-and-ugly "Cathedral of Learning" in Pittsburgh, PA (and
can you think of a starchier name for a university building?) which
actually reminded me a lot of the Warsaw Palace. Its ground floor itself
hosts several theaters, cinemas, a shopping mall, a large book store, a
museum (or two) and finally the semi-round Kongresowa. It was the classiest
and smallest of all three Polish venues, holding roughly 15 hundred people.
Inside the hall it's all crimson plush and pale marble, stylish, stately
and half-comfortable. Looking at the Keys to Ascension booklet, I find that
the Warsaw venue bears some similitude to the San Luis Obispo theater,
except the roof in Kongresowa is devoid of the SLO extravaganza and the
hall itself is raised quite high towards the back, while the SLO floor
seems nearly level. You won't see thrash-metal or plain pop bands
performing in Kongresowa, but many of the more esteemed groups have played
there, including the Rolling Stones back in the sixties.
I had a front-row seat, left stage, putting me some 10 feet away from Steve
Howe and maybe 12-15 feet away from the speakers. The doors opened
precisely forty minutes before the show was due to begin, a time I spent
sitting in the plush-cushioned chair, staring at the stage in dim, green
light (this is the Yes stage! These are Steve Howe's guitars right in front
of me! Yay! And this guy must be... nah, just a techie double-checking the
set.) and basking in the flow of the pre-show ambient music, also known as
the "hidden track" from the Open Your Eyes CD.
The hall slowly filled up with mostly hushed audience. I was curious to see
them: none of my closest friends are Yes fans (though they do show amiable
understanding for my rampant excitement) and I was wondering what kinds of
people I have for unknown brothers-in-Yes. At 28, I was definitely younger
than an average person in the audience, which must have been about 35 (with
a larger proportion of young people attending the second show, where the
tickets were cheapest and the venue largest). I saw gray-haired ladies
obviously above 50; I saw whole families with little kids, and (in
Katowice, on the second day) I saw several people in wheelchairs, ushered
in by their friends and families.
And then it was 7pm and the ambient track gave way to the hallmark of all
classic Yes shows: the excerpt from Stravinsky's Firebird Suite. During the
Firebird the house lights went gradually down and the sound volume went all
the way up, and I was awestruck. I knew only seconds were between me and
Siberian Khatru, only seconds remained of the 16 years I have loved this
band and this song and yearned to be where I now was. The feeling of
expectation was enormous, of course, but it was good expectation, I knew
this was the best band in the world and I knew they weren't going to let me
down. "Happy" does no justice to the feeling, "euphoric" gets somewhat
closer perhaps.
And then it began. Chris Squire entered the stage first, briskly, and stood
far right. Steve Howe came in second, stood right in front of me and picked
up the guitar... I knew I'd never feel this way again. The rest of the band
followed, and each member's entrance was greeted with a burst of applause,
and each subsequent burst was louder as the previous round had not yet
entirely tapered off.
All these things happened in quick succession, but every bit was a first
for me, and every bit brought the passion a little higher: Firebird, the
dimming lights, the rising volume, the band entering the stage... and the
two last items of the long-awaited prelude: the moments when Steve played
his first notes, and when the bird of prey... I mean Jon, sang the first
verse. Beauty began. For that moment I was not an observer any more, I
was... there.
And then the speakers died.
Just like that. Half-way through Siberian Khatru the speakers on both sides
of the stage simply stopped. For a brief second or two the people in front
rows were treated to the unplugged sound of Yes, which probably didn't
carry much farther into the hall. Then the band stopped too, and we saw
that all the red and green LEDs on the amplifiers' front panel were out. In
absence of any official explanation, during or after the show, my best
guess is a plain blown fuse. Whatever the problem was, it took a while to
fix. For a minute or so, Alan White launched into an acoustic drum solo,
aided by Jon on his percussion set, and even Igor was pounding away on his
block of wood above the keyboards. This went on for a few moments but then
the jaming trio gave up to the consternation. A tech-support guy jumped on
the stage, motioned to Squire and did the "cut-throat" gesture... The
implication was chilling.
Throughout the unscheduled blackout, the audience were very cheerful and
supportive, I thought, exhorting the band to play "Unplugged!!", to which
Jon just retorted "Yeah, right", understandably frustrated. Then, after two
or three minutes of silence the amps kicked back in and the band returned
to Siberian Khatru. I had expected them to actually restart the song,
ruined as it was by the break, but the band jumped in mid-way and played it
to the end. Oh well.
Yet the real loss caused by the outage was that the spell was all gone.
Classic case of cold shower. I cannot speak for the rest of the audience,
but I felt very uneasy after that: imagine such a stroke of bad luck on
such a long-awaited night. The band, too felt tense and Howe was palpably
peeved. No surprise there, of course: what happened must have been very
rare, I'd never heard of this kind of technical glitch spoiling any other
Yes show I'd read reviews of, and, take note, this very show was going on
the air! (Live FM broadcast Yes had agreed to.)
And something else. Even without the technical disaster the band seemed
stage-shy in Warsaw, or, should I say, audience-shy. This was one of the
first shows Yes had ever played in Eastern Europe (if not the first) and
they clearly didn't know what to expect. I am sure Polish audience is no
different from audiences all over the world, but I guess no-one had told
that to Yes in advance... Then there was the language barrier, more
perceived than real, but still. Jon's first quip brought a burst of
laughter, but his second went as if unnoticed, and that seemed to faze Jon
a bit. He said "You've got to translate that for those in the back" and
then shortened his subsequent introductions and spoke s l o w l y-a n d-c l
e a r l y henceforth, as if unsure if he was communicating with the
audience at all.
But of course he was, and so was the music. The magic returned - to me -
just in time for And You And I. Howe's acoustic introduction brought back
all the best memories of Yes and, what can I say, "emotion revealed as the
ocean maid"... Steve's steel guitar section in "Apocalypse" is one of my
favorite Yes moments ever and I did have tears in my eyes by then. Then
there was Heart of the Sunrise and I could not ask for more.
For the detailed song list please see my annotated setlist; but there were
no surprises. The only deviation from the usual set was Polonaise, the Jon
& Vangelis song, that Jon dedicated to the Solidarity movement and sang
half of, accompanied by Igor's piano (who did a very capable Vangelis
impersonation). This segued into a few bars of Chopin's polonaise by Igor
(wild cheers and applause) followed by Igor's regular solo piece.
Squire's solo was what we all know it is, brilliant - and I love to feel
his bass notes reverberating in my spleen! But of all the solos, White's
made the greatest impression on me; I couldn't believe how much *music* one
man with a drum set can make. The only regret - after the solo, it would be
wonderful to have the band go back on stage and actually finish Ritual,
perhaps an abbreviated arrangement, but I did miss the "hold me my love"
line after White stopped; it just, well, belongs there.
Speaking of White... There was a young kid in the audience, maybe 15 years'
old, had what must have been the best seat in the hall: first row,
precisely center-stage. And throughout the evening, he never for a moment
stopped playing air-drum. But he didn't just mark the beat: he was
maniacal, frenzied. His arms were a constant blur and he only stopped
between the songs. And he never turned his eyes away from Alan White. There
was a security guy sitting a few feet away from him, his back to the stage,
and he, in turn, hardly ever looked away from the mad drummer, probably
expecting the guy to go really berserk any minute. I was reminded of the
occurrence during one of the '97 American shows when a young guy jumped on
the stage and wouldn't let the security thugs take him down until Squire
held out his hand, put him on his feet and led him off stage. But this was
different; the mock drummer just was just having the time of his life,
oblivious to anything but the music. And he never did stop pounding away...
Finally, when Starship Trooper was over and the band were leaving, Alan
White came up to the edge of the stage and handed him his sticks. Another
moment of magic.
And then, of course, after the solos, came The Revealing. It's a lengthy
piece, but I never felt the passage of time between the opening and the
closing chant. I was absolutely hypnotized. Brilliant performance,
highlighted by Jon's voice as strong as ever and Igor's inventive keyboard
licks. One surprise: I'd known the original TfTO version before of course,
as well as at least three live takes from different tours spanning decades,
but it always seemed to me that the opening chant is a relatively soft,
quiet piece, gaining force as it progresses but still more whispered than
sang. In fact, Jon actually yells (well, almost) the final lines at the top
of his voice, and the volume of the music is right UP THERE! Incredible. So
no wonder the band received a standing ovation after the song was over. Jon
stood upright, in the back of the stage between Igor and Alan, with his
palms pressed together as if for prayer, and looked at the cheering crowd.
Of course I'd waited all my life to see this.
The concert finished with a very energetic I've Seen All Good People,
followed by the usual encores: Roundabout and Siberian Khatru. During the
latter, another disaster occurred, but this time the band took it in stride
and laughed about it more than worried: Jon and Chris' vocal duet lost
synchronisation with Howe's acoustic accompaniment in "Disillusion": either
Howe started playing too late or they started singing too early. As luck
would have it, the train lost contact with rails precisely during the "And
it's easy to see / that this is all confusion" line, at which point Squire
just cracked up. He threw his arms into the air, stopped singing and simply
said the word "confusion" and laughed, as did the audience.
(By the way, this was not very apparent in the broadcast, where Jon is the
first to restore order. That's probably because Jon's voice was simply
stronger in the mix, but sitting very close to the stage I was sure Squire
was the one who uttered the word "confusion" out loud, just as he was the
one to rally the band back into shape.)
I left in a daze. In such moments, the overwhelming happiness is always
tinged by the silly sorrow that that was it, no more, it's over... but
forever to be remembered, no doubt. And my strongest feeling as I walked
out of the Kongresowa hall was one of expectation: the following day I was
seeing the second show and I'd never wanted it more. A night and a train
ride across half the country later, the spell was cast over me again.
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