Given the storm’s (non) impact on New York City, Irene is a fitting name after all:
1. Classical Mythology . one of the Horae, the personification of peace.
Wee! — An earthquake and a hurricane in the same week, but both were disappointments. I didn’t even feel the ‘quake since I was driving at the time, likely over a pothole. The only hurricane-related damage I endured was a cabin fever-induced photo shoot with my friends and creepy Donna Wilson stuffed creature named Junior that resulted in some weird, anthropomorphic Facebook posts.
I am grateful that I got off easy, and sad for those who didn’t, but am still pissed on behalf of one of my favorite singers. The real shame is that pre-Irene storms forced St. Vincent inside. Ms. Annie Clark was suppose to have performed on the roof of the Metropolitan Museum of Art on Thursday, but Irene’s advance team of electronic equipment-destroying raindrops declared that plan unacceptable.
I was working anyway, so couldn’t go, but here are some photos, via flickr user williamdcnj, of her set, which was moved inside:
I was excited about this show since 1. it was going to happen at one of my favorite places in the city — the roof of the Met (are you seeing a rooftop theme already here?); 2. it would have been the first concert in that space, and; 3. I love hearing St. Vincent live. I saw her play on the roof garden at a Modern ’til Midnight event at the Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth a few years ago and was transfixed by her live performance. This girl can saaang and play the guitar like a motherfuc$in’ riot. She goes from soft, vulnerable and haunting to fierce and forceful faster than the guy asking for money outside Calexico threw the taco I gave him on the ground along Union Street when he thought I wasn’t looking.
Here’s St. Vincent, plugging her new album, Strange Mercy, on Letterman. If you have a chance to hear the former Polyphonic Spree musician live, take it, especially if it’s happening on a rooftop (or indoors).