Je m'appelle Sufjan

I am not unaware of the fact that adding the phrase "in Paris" to nearly any action makes it automatically sound a bit more glamorous, more exciting, more interesting. I haven't decided yet if it's a reality or if it's all in our heads.

But take for instance the phrase: "I went to see Sufjan Stevens last night...in Paris."

It was really not much different from seeing him in Asheville, except that I rode the subway to get there and some of the English jokes went over the heads of those in the audience.

There were updated costumes, including the most breathtaking massive swan wings for the opener. The set list was mostly similar, but included the welcome addition of "I Want to Be Well" which was entirely as intense as you might imagine.

He joked about Waldorf Schools and ironing leaves between wax paper and not learning to read until 10th grade and I think I was the only person laughing.

There were some interesting cultural nuances to observe...the way these Frenchmen chuckled at certain songs and in certain moments where I'm not sure Americans would, or the way they sang along in a foreign tongue like they understood the depth of what was being communicated.

Something about this album/show/extravaganza seems so perfectly and progressively creative. It made me think about how each new work Sufjan presents makes his past work look a bit trivial, even juvenile, or at least normal. Not that the albums lose their worth, not at all. But such entirely complete reinvention each time evokes a surprise for a moment, but then quickly feels entirely natural, and causes you to wonder what made the previous album so important and new and fresh at its time.

© Sarah - Le HibOO

Of course, in this turn, it's over the top. In his own words, it's "too much, too much, too much." And that's intentional, all part of the design. To see him go from the stripped-down-play-every-instrument-myself Seven Swans to this complete chaos is just confounding. But it all leaves one wondering: what's next? Where does he go from here?

I have no doubt he'll find something just as creative, just as progessive. God bless him.

I love the intriguing tension in this current work of art: exploring that fine line between believing in/speaking about the supernatural and just plain being/sounding crazy. And while it is all presented in a manner of schizophrenic madness that is supposed to be somewhat humorous, it has oddly enough only served to affirm my belief in the return of Christ and make me eager for that day, as scary as it just might turn out to be.

And of course, every time I'm in the middle of thousands of people cheering as loudly as they can for this humble man, I can't help but chuckle to myself about helping to bring him to the student union at Taylor. I painted a banner for the Dining Commons that said "SUFJAN IS COMING" just to pique people's curiosity. I helped Jared copy and distribute reviews from Rolling Stone so that people would know he was a legitimate artist. He played his banjo by himself for a small group of people. His solo version of Seven Swans was somehow just as powerful as the one last night. It all was beautiful.

That's not me trying to earn scene points. (Although I do get a few, don't I?) That's me wondering just how in the world it must feel to be in his shoes, and being quite glad that he's getting the attention he deserves. There are not many artists like him out there today.

Bravo.