Rufus Wainwright @ Le Trianon, Paris

An artist presenting their songs in their most naked, unadorned state is always an intriguing, if perilous, exercise, but it's even more so for a musician like Rufus Wainwright, whose records are so meticulously crafted, replete with opulent production, intricate arrangements and ornate orchestrations. Stripping these tunes to their bare bones is less about reinventing them than about extracting their true essence and, by toning down some of the bombast, highlighting their inherent emotion. Seated at a grand piano, or standing with an acoustic guitar, Wainwright treated the audience politely seated in this Belle Époque-era theater to a generous overview of his entire catalogue, with a slight emphasis on this reviewer's favorites, Want One and Want Two.

Wainwright’s voice remains staggeringly supple, yet whenever he indulges in a particularly acrobatic ascent into his higher register, or sustains a long note that showcases his exquisite vibrato, it never feels ostentatious. Similarly, his piano playing goes well beyond mere accompaniment, demonstrating a quiet virtuosity that consistently serves the song’s emotional core. Wainwright’s introductions, delivered in impeccable French, were almost as compelling as the songs themselves. Funny and poignant, they felt like a man taking an entire theater into his confidence: stories about his current tour and his family complemented the music, shedding light on both the process and the personality behind the songs, with no artifice, no false modesty.

We were also treated to an exquisite surprise in the form of two duets with fellow Canadian singer Pierre Lapointe, and when their voices blended in luminous harmony on the finale of “In My Arms,” there was not a dry eye in the house.

A remarkable evening built on exceptional songs, carried by a musician whose range spans pop, folk, show tunes, and operetta, and who leaves an unmistakable imprint on everything he touches. The kind of figure once simply called an artist.