An Evening Of Revelations: Leif Vollebekk And The BBC Symphony Orchestra

Lara Walsh
1 day ago
3 min read

Updated: 9 hours ago

Leif Vollebekk and the BBC Symphony Orchestra at The Barbican — Image by Madison Rensing, courtesy of Underplay

There was something entirely fitting about the blend of Canadian singer-songwriter Leif Vollebekk and the BBC Symphony Orchestra. Vollebekk’s sound has always harboured a sweeping musicality, built through winding melodies and rich atmospheres, which was only amplified in the Barbican and the resounding echoes of a full orchestra. Conducted by Robert Ames and arranged by Áine Delaney, the programme following Vollebekk’s 2024 album, Revelation, was tackled with overwhelming precision and grace, offering a moment of immense peace amongst a warm summer evening.

From the opening, Vollebekk’s relationship with the orchestra was never one of mere decoration. There was a constant communication between the two, dancing in and out of the programme as a well-tuned duet; the orchestra served as a companion to the clarity and ingenuity of Vollebekk’s own voice. Swelling and withdrawing in line with Vollebekk’s lyrics, strings, woodwind, and brass seemed to feel the songwriter’s lyrics in identical capacities. Adding colour and life, the BBC Symphony Orchestra refused to fade into submission, instead building a holistic, surrounding experience. Áine Delaney’s arrangements played perfectly into Vollebekk, neither overtaking nor underselling the quality of his lyrics. His work neatly amplified the cinematic quality already present in Vollebekk’s music, adding a dream-like aura to the arrangements.

As the evening progressed, a profound stillness overcame the theatre. The audience was momentarily transported to a realm of timelessness. It seemed unbelievable that anything could be unfolding outside that room; attention was undividedly committed to the stage and its characters as they created an oasis shielded from London’s evening rush. Viewers were devoted to Vollebekk, hanging onto his every word with a striking intimacy.

Drifting through gentler melodies, like ‘Sunset Boulevard Expedition’ and ‘Surfer’s Journal,' and livelier moments in ‘Rock and Roll’ and ‘Hot Tears’, Ames, Delaney, and Vollebekk gave each other the necessary space when fitting and the unwavering support when invited. Their partnership was simultaneously both building and receding, with the understanding that Vollebekk’s lyrics stand on their own and are often felt best in moments of quiet. Ames’ restraint was commendable, allowing choruses to echo within the space….

Vollebekk made the stage his home for the evening. Moving through seated piano accompaniments and standing guitar performances, he seemed entirely comfortable in the space. His passion was undeniable: none could question the heart behind his work and the way it absorbed his being. It was hardly surprising that the arrangement was met with multiple standing ovations and an encore performance of Prince’s ‘Purple Rain,' marked by choral support from across the audience.

The overarching merit of the evening was how the orchestra gave Vollebekk space to perform. Refusing to make him anything other than entirely himself, the orchestra walked Vollebekk along the path he destined his music for. This partnership did not detract from the defining feature of Vollebekk’s music — its quiet confidence and genuine nature — but rather emulated and reflected the same array of emotions, from melancholy to hopeful, and everything in between. As the final notes rang out and the audience rose for their closing applause, Vollebekk, Delaney, and Ames had proved that the beauty of music is not always in its excess but sometimes in its ability to pull back and exercise restraint. There was hardly a heartstring left unpulled.