Charm intensive

Laura Barrett, kalimba queen and holy conduit

ALL THUMBS: Laura Barrett

By LORRAINE CARPENTER

“My first public kalimba performance was at this tiny little bar in Toronto that doesn’t exist anymore,” says Laura Barrett, thinking back to 2005. This was before she joined the Hidden Cameras and the Adorables, when the classically trained pianist’s only performances had been with stage bands and choirs.

“I didn’t have any experience with the late-night crowd,” she says, “so that was exciting for me because the audience was really paying attention, and there was a great rapport.”

Barrett played one song that night, a cover of Weird Al Yankovich’s “Smells Like Nirvana,” on the instrument that has become her trademark, the kalimba, or thumb piano. “Robot Ponies” came shortly thereafter, an original song written for a robot-themed event, about a prized children’s toy of the future. But Barrett hasn’t captured imaginations with novelty and gimmicks—it’s her charming set of sounds, from the warmth of her voice to the kalimba’s music-box magic, and the delicate weaving of melodies, rhythms and clever words.

This weekend, Barrett will treat Montrealers to a special performance as part of Up to Your Ears, an eclectic festival of contemporary music taking place at the Christ Church Cathedral, previewing material from her debut LP, Victory Garden, to be released by Paper Bag Records on Sept. 23.

Mirror: What was the most satisfying aspect of making your LP?

Laura Barrett: The opportunity to get a lot of people involved in making something that sounds really texturally rich. That’s been a dream of mine for a long time, ever since I quit piano, to assemble a kind of mini-orchestra. And [collaborator Paul Aucoin] and I are both music geeks, in the more technical sense. To actually harness some of the rhythms that are implicit in the kalimba itself was really exciting, almost like a brain-teaser.

M: I see you’re being accompanied on banjo and glockenspiel by Ajay Mehra for this performance. He also collaborated with you on the “Robot Ponies” video, right?

LB: He’s my boyfriend, full disclosure. He’s a writer and a mathematician—he’s pretty much a genius. He’s been a very good ear and a very good editor for lyrics and meaning in general, and I’ve in turn dragged him into the music world.

M: I notice that you often play unconventional venues, like bookstores and galleries.

LB: My music is more suitable for non-bar because it’s relatively quiet. I understand that it’s hard to be quiet at a bar—I actually got used to the chatter and the clinking of glasses. But it’s exciting to play theatres and churches and spaces like that because people are already in the mindset of sitting down and paying attention. If they wanna drift off and go into a bit of a daze, that’s just fine.

M: Religious reverie, perhaps? I like this trend of old churches being re-appropriated for live music.

LB: And still carrying some of their original meaning. I’ve taken many courses about the period of English lit where, essentially, the author was just a conduit for the voice of God. They didn’t even consider themselves artists with any kind of original thought, even though they were extremely talented people, because it was just that idea of being inspired. Even though I’m a very secular person, I really believe in that kind of inspiration.

At Christ Church Cathedral
(635 Ste-Catherine W.) on Friday,
Aug. 15, 7:30 p.m., $10. Preceded by
a conversation between Barrett
and Patti Schmidt, at 7 p.m.