Concert Review: NYC Mange Le ¨Pomme
Even under weather, that ¨Pomme¨ grew some sweet songs in NYC. Yes, Pomme, which means Apple in French, came to the Big Apple, and swept the city with the intimacy and quiet of her performance, which was shocking. In a city known for its noise, it was as if everyone had bought a ticket to see her and turn down the volume for once.
With Christmas lights adorning the stairwell, there was a magic in the air that felt more mystical than holiday. We were not celebrating a religion as much as a spirit: an energy of peace and pragmatism, we wish we had more of in our lives. Hence, the fact that if I dropped my earring on the floor, it would have sounded like an earthquake, is both surprising and not so. The depth of the audience’s silence was a mixture of mesmerize and eagerness to stay that way. The irony is that Pomme´s songs are really simple.
I, recently, reviewed The Whale, and there is a line that really suck out to me: ¨I need to accept that my life is not going to be exciting.¨The student, in the film, said it with a note of fear that I understood, especially as a critic. We spend our lives watching others sing to a life we live, but making it sound like…. well…. music. You put a three chord melody over a supermarket grocery list, and you might get a really catchy, pop song potential. It may sound funny or crazy, but music is all about making how unexciting our lives can feel become adventurous. After all, we are so buys living our story, we forget how we want it told, and Pomme feels like a gentle reminder that the latter is vital to live your best life.
Her show went quickly and sweetly because it was just her, playing an instrument at a time, and singing to what she liked, who she disliked, and how either way she was just trying to love life. A basic tale that every New Yorker could relate to, but a good storyteller can make us listen. Pomme did.
