Under the Stars

Last night we went to see Chris Isaak playing at Barossa Under the Stars. This was because we had free tickets. We went on a coach. It was nearly a 2 hour drive out to the Barossa, once we left the city it was all dust and straw. But the Barossa was a little greener, we saw vines and peach trees and even some grass.

Barossa Under the Stars was held in a huge field surrounded by wind-tossed trees. They were wind-tossed because it was very windy. In front of the trees in a semicircle were food and wine tents. In front of the food and wine tents there were chairs and tables and people sitting at them.

Everyone there was kind of old. It was not something to be depressed about if you were the same. Everyone had brought comfortable folding chairs. Everyone was drinking 5 dollar wine out of 5 dollar glasses, and eating hamper food, oysters, burgers or curry.

It was already none too warm when the warmup band started playing at half past 5. It was too windy to catch it all. When Tina Arena came on at 7 the sun was coming in low under the clouds blinding her. She kept her sunnies on and sang The Look of Love.

By the time Chris Isaak started playing it was dark. The wind had dropped but it was very cold. I had two jackets on and a scarf and was thinking of getting out the fleecy blanket, geriatric as it might make me seem; at least it was dark.

Let me describe. In front of us were about 200 rows of darkened people. Beyond them, the stage, lit up yellow pink and blue, bristling with light boxes, equipment, instruments, the Silvertones, and Chris Isaak playing in the middle in a red suit. He looked a little like Tintin if Tintin had a longer face. To the right of the stage was a screen on which you could see Chris Isaak if you couldn't see him very well in reality, an existential thing this is, to think about. To the right of the screen and some way behind, is a row of pine trees. Above the pine trees, a sky of darkest blue with black clouds edged with frothy coffee. Rising between two pines is the moon. The moon is 88 percent of full. Pine trees are pointy. Therefore the moon appeared to be rising obliquely between the pines. All the more amazing as, the moon being closer to the right hand tree, the missing 12% of the moon, which was ( or rather wasn't) on the left, might well have been expected to compensate for this.

This would certainly be easier to describe to you if I had a pencil.