Sufjan Stevens - An Artistic Experience

While this post will not discuss an activity that the Scholars Group partook in collectively, I believe it has relevance to the greater issue at hand – understanding the humanities.

Last week, some friends and I drove to Indianapolis to see the Sufjan Stevens concert. We had fallen deeply in love with Come On Feel the Illinoise! and were looking forward to seeing him perform. Sufjan has not released a full length album in five years and claimed that he was disenchanted with music. None of us knew exactly what to expect when hearing about the release of his radically different new album The Age of Adz. The beautiful, melodic folk we had committed to memory transformed into a scattered apocalyptical expression of love. A well-known song like "Chicago" starkly contrasted the digitized voice present in "Impossible Soul" and "Age of Adz."

Arriving at Hilbert Circle Theatre, we were surprised that Indianapolis could be so beautiful at night. The opening act, DM Stith, used his loop peddle flawlessly, causing a beautiful hallowing song to rise and fall in heavy waves.

When Sufjan stepped on stage clothed in silver wings and began singing "Seven Swans," I first felt the disjunct that would pull at me for the remainder of the show. He launched into songs on his new album complete with quick-paced visuals projected on a large screen behind him, a full band, and backup singer/dancers. I couldn't decide whether I hated or loved it. I felt torn in two pieces. What was I supposed to be focusing on? What was I supposed to feel? I had no idea.

Later in the show, he revealed that the album artwork, show, songs, etc was inspired by a schizophrenic man named Royal. At that point, I realized that Sufjan has accomplished something that I had only felt on a small scale reading Sylvia Plath. He made me feel like I was out of touch – questioning myself, questioning my reality, trying to find something solid to grasp, to understand.

These questions impacted me for days. I felt that the concert had exposed me to what it meant to live artistically. For a musician to affect my psychology in this way, I am infinitely grateful.

Aside from this description, I can't find a good way to catalogue what this experience meant to me. I feel just as scattered attempting to put it all into words as I felt sitting in that theatre and mulling it over on the long drive home. I suppose a good way to close would be to quote Sufjan from his first track of The Age of Adz, "words are futile devices."