The Wainwrights put a spell on Los Angeles

August 20, 2010, at the Greek Theatre

By Melissa Bobbitt
Published: August 23rd, 2010 | 10:00am

“Here we are in Griffith Park, one of the only parks I’ve never had sex in. Well, you never know—we could turn this into a real Greek theater,” Rufus Wainwright luridly quipped. It’s doubtful his audience would’ve disagreed. Here sat a man—no, a titan—of the stage and all things theatrical at a shiny grand piano as though he were atop a throne making a decree to Olympus’ normal folk. When a creature of such sparkling beauty and artistry makes bizarre concert demands (no clapping allowed during some songs, no yelling requests for certain others), you don’t cry, “Diva!” You nod and humble yourself. You surrender, and you’re set free.

The clothes stayed on at Los Angeles’ Greek Theatre during Rufus’ show (supported by his elfin and equally talented sister, Martha). In fact, the costumes were one of the highlights of this two-act extravaganza. The first found the “Gay Messiah” looking like Jareth from “Labyrinth,” a gothic pixie all in black, with a train that would rival the richest bride’s. This was a cathedral-like run through of his latest album, the melancholy All Days Are Nights: Songs for Lulu (Decca). Wainwright commanded his instrument like the finest of maestros; but instead of the powdered wigs of Mozart’s era, it was obsidian, body-hugging outfits and glittery, coiffed hair.

Behind him, projections of giant eyeballs opened and shut, looking less human and more like mutant arachnids. His hands pistoned and leap-frogged over each other during “The Dream,” follow by the French-language “Les Feux D'Artifice T'Appellent.” This disciplined set was gorgeous and mournful, and really inflated the emotion of what is, unfortunately, a drag of a record. Some concertgoers used this as an opportunity to go get snacks.

But set two was an absolute treat. Wainwright returned clad in a pink and tangerine flowered suit, smiling and bantering. He relayed stories of when his father, musician Loudon Wainwright III, lived in Southern California. (“Dinner at Eight” was dedicated to him). He then chided fans for asking him to play too-obvious songs “Don’t yell for ‘Hallelujah’ right now; that’s so L.A.,” he said with a laugh. “Jesus Christ, why don’t you get a drink or something?”

Wainwright has a gift for mixing the serious with the seriously funny. He introduced the Moulin Rouge gem “La Complainte de la Butte” (re-imagined here as a duet with Martha) as “Complaint of the Butt” because it’s about climbing the stairs at Montmarte, France.

But then he’d speak so tenderly of his recently deceased mother, singer Kate McGarrigle. As a tribute, $1 from each ticket sold that evening would go to her cancer charity. He closed the concert with one of her spellbinding songs.

Furthermore, Wainwright plays the role of doting uncle so charmingly. As part of the encore, Martha joined her brother onstage, with her nine-month-old bouncing baby Arcangelo in tow. As the tyke looked up at his mother while she sang, you could see in his eyes that he, too, would one day carry on the Wainwright musical legacy.

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Rufus Wainwright's MySpace page

Martha Wainwright's MySpace page

Decca Records