With the grievances of summer’s sickly heat almost gone, our favorite folk artists make their way onto our fall playlists. After all, what is autumn without tracks such as “Amsterdam”?
The track is one of many hits that indie folk musician Gregory Alan Isakov performed live with the San Francisco Symphony on Sept. 15 at Davies Symphony Hall. Isakov has a long reputation of joining forces with symphonies, having even released an album with the Colorado Symphony in 2016.
Isakov performed with his tight-knit touring band alongside the strings section of the symphony. His songs are especially resounding in their lonesome, wistful quality that mixes folk’s rawness with rock’s vim. This quality was not lost in the instrumental backdrop that night, but was instead explored to a deeper effect, capturing every audience member regardless of their familiarity with his discography.
The band and symphony opened with a lengthened instrumental introduction to “Before the Sun” from the 2023 album Appaloosa Bones. The track’s signature banjo was accompanied by the symphony’s strings, sustaining a subtle harmony and sweeping the audience into a lush sonic landscape reminiscent of endless fields at sunset. Jeb Bows’ violin flooded the stage, with romantic trills ornamenting the atmosphere and setting the lyrical tone for the night before Isakov’s imagistic lyrics came in: “Fifty-five mile signs / Thunder crack and lightning / While something else inside / Shines like the Fourth of July.”
The light design was a dual-hued approach, spotlighting the members of the band in one tone and the symphony in another. With every song, a hue of red or violet would wash over the audience, visually embodying the emotion-drenched atmosphere. Wearing his signature cowboy hat and outlined by the stage’s red shades, Isakov’s face was obscured by the shadows.
The floating melody of “Amsterdam” was accented by the strings section every other beat, with the xylophone as a brilliant addition to the acoustics. Even in his mumbly country voice, Isakov’s baritone vocals swept the hall with a more resonant quality than any of his recordings have captured, sometimes slipping into emotional voice breaks.
Throughout the night, the band’s performance dynamic shone through, allowing it to move as a unit, completely harmonious with its vocalizations. The six members kept physically in-touch with their music, jumping, crouching and kicking to the rhythm of their songs, even as they gripped their instruments tightly. Isakov and Bows often huddled together, taking cues from one another during lengthy instrumental breaks.
As the band began “San Luis,” Max Barcelow’s drumbeat resonated through the orchestral floor before the keys took over. The song’s bittersweet composition complemented Isakov’s haunting lyrics, “I’m a ghost of you, you’re a ghost of me.” The symphony was a backdrop, the strings in a delicate pizzicato or sustaining a long note as a sea for the lead instruments to swim in, all before a moment of silence when Isakov sang solo.
In “This Northern Empty Hemisphere,” Bows’s violin took flight, dominating the stage with a soaring solo that shimmered with vibrato. As the bass joined, an almost baroque tone succeeded before shifting to an electric atmosphere.
“I wrote all these songs in my kitchen a long time ago,” Isakov said following a performance of “Chemicals.” He looked in awe staring out at the filled tiers of Davies Hall. “I’m always used to being the worst musician when I’m on the stage with these guys,” he joked, grounding the grandiosity of the hall’s atmosphere with some tender self-depricating humor.
Following the intermission, “Sweet Heat Lightning” incorporated the french horn with a warm, noble sound that continued through the night. Alongside textured instruments such as Danny Black’s steel and the symphony’s xylophone, the instrumental palette was rich without being overly performative, simply serving to enrich Isakov’s atmospheric music.
After tipping his hat to the symphony after a performance of “Caves,” Isakov and his band came back for an encore consisting of “Feed Your Horses” and “Saint Valentine.” Huddled around a mic, the band brought an intimate close to the night, as one might feel singing around a campfire. The ending brought the performance closer to the band’s folk roots, bonding a collective human experience like memories being passed down through generations.