(editor’s note – opening act unknown)
Gordon Lightfoot: Eventually mellow
by Jo-Ann Mattison Bennington Banner, July 7, 1977
Traveling to the Saratoga Performing Arts Center to see Gordon Lightfoot, the Canadian-born singer, last Friday night, was an experience in itself. Following routes through the Vermont and New York countryside, with its thick, plush greenery, along with many old Colonial homes, made me feel at times as though I should be riding in a horse-drawn buggy – transposed back to a bygone era.
To say I was disappointed in the show would be unfair. Expecting his appearance at 8:15 p.m., and still waiting past 8:30 was a disappointment. Around this time, when he still hadn’t appeared, a young lady was introduced and played a variety of selections on the classical guitar for approximately half an hour. As I sat there, I felt I was listening to the background music to a Clint Eastwood movie, envisioning him riding off into the sunset. Other softer, smoother ballads were reminiscent of love scenes shown on the big screen. It was a treat to watch her fingers glide over the strings with precise and quick perfection.
At 9 p.m., still no star. At 9:10—still nothing. Finally, at 9:15, Gordon Lightfoot appeared on stage.
The audience, which filled the amphitheater and most of the lawn, reacted to him with spontaneous cheers, hollers and applause.
But, he did not react to them. As he stood on stage, almost motionless, singing and playing his guitar, I couldn’t help but feel he was just going through the motions. He made me feel as though he had come to do a job and he was going to do it, whether he wanted to or not. There seemed to be no spark between star and audience.
After playing one of his best-known tunes, “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald,” he began to loosen up and move with the music. By the time he finished the next song, he really seemed to be enjoying himself. He was transforming into the performer I had expected to see and hear. He seemed to relate more to his music, and in doing this he related more to his audience. He started to make each person feel as though he was singing for them. That charisma that comes across the stage and reaches out to each individual had finally made contact. His fans had been with him from the beginning; now he was with them.
Except for short introductions of his fellow guitarists and drummer, Lightfoot sang for more than an hour. I heard familiar tunes like “Sundown” and “Don Quixote,” and some not so familiar but just as enjoyable. Heckling requests yelled across the amphitheater could have unnerved him, but a quick bit of humorous tact kept things going smoothly.
Although I was initially disappointed, once the contact was made, I saw a star perform and I loved every minute of it. And from the standing ovation he received at the end of his performance, it was apparent everyone else had also.
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