Gillian Welch

If there’s one thing Gillian Welch is about, it’s simplicity. Fans of quiet melancholy rejoiced (if that’s possible) when 2011’s The Harrow And The Harvest hailed a return to stripped-down songwriting. So, as she walks onstage at the Grand Canal Theatre, we’re pleased to see her accompanied by nothing more than her guitar, a banjo and long-term collaborator David Rawlings.
It’s pretty hard to muster an intimate atmosphere with a 2,000 strong audience, but Welch gives it her best shot. The show gets off to a subdued start – an awestruck audience a little too polite for their own good. Welch tries to break the ice: “It’s so rare to see a chick playing harmonica,” she quips. “I always figured it was fear of smudged lipstick.” A tentative laugh ripples through the stalls.
In the second half the hallowed atmosphere gives way, at last, to swooning appreciation. The tight harmonies of ‘Hard Times’ are followed by a slow-building ‘Down Along The Dixie’, before loyal fans are rewarded with ‘Time (The Revelator)’. An incredible rendition of ‘Six White Horses’ sees Welch clapping out the syncopated rhythm and tap dancing in her cowgirl boots.
“I fear our set hasn’t been very sunny,” says Welch in her southern drawl (she actually grew up in California). She offers the stage to Rawlings, who plays ‘Ruby’ as an audience request. Once the pair exit, they return to play not one, not two, but three encores – each met with standing ovations. ‘Dark Turn Of Mind’, a cover of Neil Diamond’s ‘Pocahontas’ and a thigh-slapping ‘Jackson’ all go down extremely well.
The final song of the night is an earth-shattering cover of ‘White Rabbit’ by Jefferson Airplane and – despite playing for nearly three hours – the crowd, quite simply, are shouting for more.