Brooklyn's Favorite Cheerleader: Sufjan Sings the Hits (and Elevates the The BQE to New Heights)

When I saw Sufjan Stevens last year at Town Hall, I came away thinking, "Sure, he's talented, I can listen to these lovely, quirky songs hundreds of times, but damn! Can't the boy-man move on from singing about his childhood and adolescence?" The prospect of The BQE, [his BAM commission for the Next Wave Festival], seemed like a perfect place to see the singer-songwriter grow into his many musical gifts.

What it confirmed was that Sufjan doesn't just enjoy putting cheerleaders onstage in some ironic tribute to high school popularity contests, he's a cheerleader himself. His ode to the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway is yet another attempt to elevate an unusual artifact to iconic status through music. Sufjan the brilliant hero! But it wasn't the cacophony on stage (the squeaks and honks from the small orchestra did indeed cause many people to plug their ears due to the unbearable noise at times) that disturbed me as much as Sufjan proving his lack of confidence in his own creation.

Many symphonies also employ film clips and visuals to attract new and younger audiences—with varying degrees of success (and criticism). Sufjan's film piece was projected below the proscenium and above the heads of the performers. It was a jumble of colorful images (blue inflatable gorillas, fast food joints juxtaposed with new developments) and vistas of the busy highway, sometimes sped up for a "Sesame Street" time-lapsed feel. These were spliced with hula-hoopers in BQE-inspired outfits. Then, midway through, the five performers took to the stage to entertain with their hoola hoop prowess. Trouble is, Sufjan did such a great job in distracting from the music, that we didn't have time to appreciate what he'd accomplished, beyond it being a soundtrack to both the film and the live entertainment. I'm all for playful experimentation, but the visual gags trumped any effort at actually forwarding some new vision of orchestral music for a new generation. The message: make em laugh and then they'll jump to your feet with applause.

I saw David Byrne during intermission and wanted to ask him what he though of the display. I was worried that Sufjan had just revealed his lack of confidence. But I knew Byrne would also trumpet for the cause (he sat near me during the Town Hall concert as well), and is a great cheerleader himself for new music. I heard grumblings from some of the older crowd who decided not to return to their seats, but I settled back in for the second half, which promised Sufjan Stevens' "hits."

Again, it was a lovely experience. His witty, humble banter between songs from his Michigan and Illinois albums help transition between the sweet and soaring "More songs of civic pride!" he promised. It was when he took to the piano to sing the haunting "John Wayne Gacy, Jr." that he revealed that perhaps he is moving on from these creations from years ago. "Sorry, I got creeped out singing those lyrics just now. I left out two lines. I just couldn't sing them. Maybe it's time to retire that song for good."

It'll be sad to no longer hear such a moving, disturbing song, one that humanizes a maligned serial killer, but it also seems like it's about time. As they say, growing up is hard to do, but I'm ready to see what a grown-up Sufjan Stevens' music will become.