Sadness and ecstasy, in the Gainsbourg style - Los Angeles Times
Advertisement

Sadness and ecstasy, in the Gainsbourg style

Share via
Special to The Times

Among his other talents, the late French pop singer-songwriter Serge Gainsbourg was skilled at coaxing scandalous talk out of pretty girls such as British vocalist and actress Jane Birkin, whose 1969 duet with the cranky provocateur, “Je T’aime E Moi Non Plus,” caused controversy over her orgasmic heavy breathing while topping the U.K. charts.

Birkin, who first gained notoriety for her nude scene in the classic 1966 film “Blow-up,” met Gainsbourg in Paris, married him and carried his musical torch even after their 1981 split and his 1991 death. On Thursday, she carried it into UCLA’s Royce Hall for her L.A. debut, performing selections from “Arabesque,” her album of Gainsbourg songs reinterpreted in a world-music vein, backed by Algerian quartet Djam & Fam.

Still gamin-like at 57, the slim Englishwoman didn’t do “Je T’aime,” but there were plenty of highlights, including an a cappella “La Javanaise.” Initially wearing black, she finished the nearly two-hour performance in a shiny red gown, her sandy curls flowing as she briefly danced barefoot.

Advertisement

Birkin began accompanied solely by keyboardist Fred Maggi, but soon the other players arrived to spin out the heart-piercing “Elisa” and the peppy “Couleur Cafe.” For a while the lush blends of violin, oud, lute and percussion became increasingly hypnotic. These unexpected reworkings emphasized the universality of the love, lust and loss Gainsbourg’s songs conveyed, while Birkin’s sweet, expressive soprano preserved his core intent.

She sang in French, so the music alone provided emotional translation. Gainsbourg’s jazzy, philosophical tunes -- especially something such as “Baby Alone in Babylone,” written after their breakup -- emphasized melancholy amid the chirpy vocals and bright melodies. The tunes ecstatically celebrated misery, but more cerebrally than, say, the American blues.

Momentum dragged toward the end, and at times Birkin’s smiley ebullience undercut the austere romantic sorrow. Yet she revealed a solemnity behind that easy grin, at one point reading a poem by a young nephew who died, then wistfully reflecting on why she’s still performing Gainsbourg’s songs: “Perhaps I’m doing this just for me.... I don’t know if you’ve ever had the feeling that you never say thank you while there’s still time.”

Advertisement
Advertisement