Ethical Review: THE SWELL SEASON

By BARCODE 2x

The old saying still holds true: never date anybody in the band.

Glenn Hansard and Marketa Irglova of The Swell Season made their first Ann Arbor appearance December 2 at the Michigan Theater. A full house of adoring fans got the full history, what Hansard called "the chronology: He had been touring with the Frames, his band for 20 years now. As a young teenager, Marketa Irglova and the somewhat older Hansard began touring and making music together. The pair came together romantically around the shooting and release of their film Once. Once went on to great international acclaim, and the pair earned an Oscar for their original song Falling Slowly. They split up after a short time, yet still remain dear friends and bandmates. Irglova is now 19 or 20 years of age.

The split makes for a curious dynamic onstage. Certainly they sound as good together as ever, and yet now, Hansard has brought the Frames along too, creating disjointed, somewhat uncomfortable effect. After singing her sad, quiet songs, Hansard pats Irglova on the back, gently. He is her mentor, her protector, it seems. "Good job," he seems to say. Seeing this moment of touch, we feel a tiny shock for the pair; once, they had been intimate, incredibly intimate. When she is in the spotlight, he hides behind the piano, and graciously gives her the focus. He is a powerful frontman. He is a unique live performer, and his energy, power, and charisma are the driving force of the entire live show. She is swallowed up by his presence.  

When the very passionate, charming, emotional concert had ended (after a four-song encore), one couldn't help feeling a bit torn about the whole thing. Most young women Marketa Irglova's age are in school, or finding their own way, trying their own careers out. She has been on tour with this group of men since she was 13. With her tiny stature and small voice, she is very much still a child, to all appearances. The romantic split with her older partner may have been the time to move on to separate careers and lives.

When they were together, despite their considerable age difference, there was a feeling of partnership and musing. They inspired one another and allowed a kind of artistic growth that was all-encompassing. Now, she is a young woman in her early 20s, and there is a sense that this breakup is still not entirely complete.

Rock and pop music's pioneers are often thought of in pairs. Jagger and Richards, Lennon and McCartney, Allman and Betts, Plant and Page. In these unique collaborations, the one's talents complement the other. Paul Simon needed Art Garfunkle to sing Bridge Over Troubled Water. Marvin Gaye needed Tammy Terrell to tell his passionate love stories. She died in his arms. They had never been lovers. But they loved one another.

Artistic partnerships are like marriages, frought with trouble and jealousies, highs and lows, but in the moment of creation, none of this matters. Art keeps them together. Hansard and Irglova are working more independently now, less as a unit. More and more, they back one another up.

Hansard is a rare talent, with tons of experience. Irglova, talented in a very different way, looks scared and infinitely less enthusiastic. When the audience roared with their final applause, Irglova was the first to leave the stage, while Hansard and the Frames (arguably his true artistic partners) hang together as a band, lingering a bit longer. These five men are in it till the end, one senses. Irglova was anxious to end her night, it seemed, while the Frames could have kept playing. Hansard and his gleeful drummer (the band uses a rotating roster of percussionists) exchanged the most meaningful and loving glances of the night. They clearly love playing together.

And the Ethics in all this? We talk about mentorships and muses a lot here. Hansard and Irglova may be experiencing the dilemma of success. The new album is out, the Oscars stand on a shelf, and the tour is extremely successful. They are very well-reviewed, one of the biggest acts to come out of Ireland in years. Hansard pays frequent homage to his folk heroes, peppering his set with traditional songs. In one of the high points of the concert, he sings Van Morrison's Astral Weeks with a soaring passion. He plays an old guitar with a hole worn through it. He is a curator of Irish musical tradition, and an important presence in music now.

He speaks of having many facets to his work, and being pulled in two directions. In his chronology, the Frames were doing very very well when he and Irglova began their side project. He diversified his work, and only more recently tried to bring it all together. Things may not have fully gelled. The merger of the Irglova collaboration and the Frames, coming together to create The Swell Season, is still a bit tentative. The group as a whole has not fully found their musical and personal blend.

There comes a point in every artist's life when they must stand on their own. Their mentor has passed on, and now it is their time. Hansard played on the street for years, in Dublin. Many musicians did the same, Van Morrison included, playing their sad and lonely songs for sad passers by. Irglova needs her chance to stand alone now too. I hate to see a good thing go, but I fear that the emotional peak of the romantic partnership was also the artistic peak. The inspiration was there, and carried them to this new height, together. But perhaps we should look to their fictional characters in Once for a little perspective.

In Once, there is the constant tension between the two. Artistic partnerships between men and women can be confusing. The thrill of creation is not unlike the feeling of falling in love. The fictionalized duo in Once never consumates their relationship. They allow each other to grow and succeed, with a tenderness and sensitivity rarely seen in films, or even in life. It is real magic. And real sacrifice too. They never give in to their feelings for one another, and they pour it all into their music. And that, right there, is the magic. There is a magic in the restraint, the longing, the anticipation. They are like Abelard and Eloise, writing passionately over the vast distance. Their discipline as musicians steers them towards a success.

However, we live in the Bizarro World. We do not live in the neater, more tidy world of film fiction. Here in the Bizarro World, we give in to our impulses. We indulge our fantasies, and throw caution to the wind! We confuse our feelings for our muses. Our muses drive us on, make us reach further, but when feelings tip over the edge, and artistic discipline is lost and the artists plunge themselves into the fire of sex and romance, and even LOVE!, the art, no doubt, will be affected, irreparably affected. Rarely do we see dual success in love and art. When the love chapter is closed, it is always good to see that the art has a future. In the case of the Swell Season, the lovers are divided, in a sharp dilemma.

Music is intensely personal. Many songs in the Swell Season's set were introduced with a story of heartbreak. "This is a song about a breakup."  Like Stevie Nicks and Lindsay Buckingham wailing "You can go your own way!," Hansard and Irglova are exposing their own story in song. There is sadness, deep sadness in their music. But the sense of longing, the tension of love, is gone. Now, the intimacy of their partnership has shifted, and they are allowing one another tons of space. Which is tender, in and of itself. And loving.