Wim Mertens
Live @ San Vittore al Corpo, 15.12.2006

THE REVIEW

Strange character, Uncle Wim. Discographically prolific, versatile, sometimes solemn and sometimes almost carefree. From the experiments of "For Amusement Only" to the simple piano of "Un Respiro", passing through an infinity of records, reworkings, soundtracks, minimalism and pompous symphonic-like works.

In Milan, he presents himself practically naked. Alone. Voice and piano. No strings, no winds, no sopranos. Him and only him. And completely free, which, given his stated goal of “maximizing the audience,” I would never have expected. Does he do it just for glory? Who knows...
The setting is the Church of San Vittore al Corpo, the scenery just a couple of spotlights and the attendees a curious melange of alternative youth and middle-aged dreamers.
There's no place more fitting to sing the Lamentations of Jeremiah, as Mertens will do tonight. The Belgian musician indeed re-presents in its entirety "Jérémíades", his 1995 work inspired by the biblical passage that narrates the desolation of Jerusalem after the destruction of 586 B.C.

"Kaf" sucks the spectators into the pianistic vortex, already disorienting those who just came to watch for the sake of it. Twenty and more minutes of repeated piano loops, accompanied by Mertens' vaguely irritating yet hypnotic voice. So hypnotic that at the end, no one has the courage to applaud, only from the last rows does someone muster the courage to break the hesitation. The equally hypnotic and "wonderfully unhinged" (op. cit.) "Kof" tests beyond the curious, causing the first defections. They do not understand, or maybe they don't want to understand, that one must get lost among the notes, let themselves be captivated by the musical flourishes and onomatopoeic vocalizations. The performance continues, and at the end of each piece, Wim seems to make a gesture that "authorizes" the applause which, despite the increase in departures, becomes louder and louder. When even the last note of "Jod" fades away, the uncle gets up, thanks the audience sincerely, and disappears into the sacristy. The remaining spectators' ovation calls him back on stage for two or three encores that our artist chooses to pick from "Un Respiro"; in scattered order: "The Essence of the (k)not", "Fitting Destiny", "Fernglänzend", and "Warm By The Other", but I might be wrong because I can never remember the titles.

Soft yet sharp, like the cold of any Milanese evening.

For those who weren't there and for those who were.