“When I’m in the grips of it I don’t feel pleasure and I don’t feel pain, and I don’t want to either.” Iggy Pop’s description of the power punk rock has to transport eerily befits its polar opposite tonight in the exquisite surroundings of Christchurch.

The Polish/Norwegian saxophonist, familiar to many here tonight because of Donal Dineen and John Kelly’s championing of his oft beautiful amalgamation of jazz and classical, has put together one of the most unique musical experiences you could be privy to.

Combining with, what those in the know reckon to be four of the finest male voices in the world today, Garbarek has put together a sometimes improvised concert using only the natural acoustics and amplification of the church, the aforementioned ensemble and his own sax to deliver a quiet and stirring fusion. On paper this could sound dubious but bear with me.

The striking looking composer takes the small stage and the concert begins with a lone voice from far in the background moving towards the front. This voice is then joined by the others (the full ensemble consisting of two tenors, a countertenor and a baritone), each one coming from a different corner of the building. As they slowly move towards the stage the overall effect is of the most fantastic surround sound you will ever hear.

Though I was initially doubtfull of the ability to merge the sax with the voices, Garbarek does it with ease, best when he is restrained. The singers and composer drift off seperately about the building at various stages and you’re compelled to keep your eyes closed to soak up the sounds, and it’s here when you’re brain starts catching trains to various destinations.

Having spent most of the concert this way, the crowd rise to their feet following the last stirring number which the group play while walking out until they actually leave the church in electric silence. With this they are hauled back to provide a beautiful, brief and indeed rare encore. Dazed, though not confused, it’s out into the dusk air where you’re almost too blissed out to be arsed with busses, bouncers and the city in general. Escapism at its purest.