REVIEW: Cameron Winter at St John’s Lutheran

Cameron Winter did something so interesting tonight; he brought zillennials to church. What you would think were irony-pilled agnostic jaded 20-30 year olds gathered in St John’s Lutheran this evening and listened to one of their peers exclaim “God is Real” while playing a real church organ—with beauty and transcendence.

Cameron Winter was introduced to me by my friend Melissa, and ever since she recommended him to me I’ve been convinced he’s on a track to stardom. After witnessing his concert tonight, I hope it isn’t soon, only for the selfish reason that I want to see him in this type of venue again.

From the second row, I watched this greasy-headed young man take the stage and captivate the audience in the pews for an hour. The decision to do a church tour was a clever one; the built-in respect the space commands makes it such a pleasant show. No talkers or filmers interrupted anyone else’s experience. It also grants the moment so much gravitas. I couldn’t think of anything else while the performance was happening. Though perhaps this should be entirely attributed to Cameron’s talents.

The first moment of true magic happened three songs in. Winter’s mic cut out. In the second it happened, his head jolted back from the microphone in surprise, but his hands continued playing, and slowly his head turned from the catty-corner piano mic to the pews of the church, his voice crescendoing to fill the space. It seemed we all were going back in time. This unifying moment showed professionalism, but also his humble beginnings as a performer, playing in any room and audience given to him. His mouth went from a mutter to a wide-open call, a cry that he will try as he may to still fight for you

In my sad, sad little rock-throwing way

The barrier between performer and audience was temporarily broken, but it was mended with absolute awe of the talent of this young performer.

A fan I met on line outside, Andy, told me he heard influence from Rough and Rowdy Ways in Cameron Winter’s debut Heavy Metal. The connections which sprung from my mind were lyrical, such as the mentions of self-comparison to Rolling Stones. But in performance I started to see similarities as well. Winter’s expressions were different than I expected from hearing the album alone. I’d imagined him more self-serious to justify the daring artistic vocal choices he makes. What surprised me was his humility and humanity. He started the set wordlessly, and sung with mouth small and eyebrows angled open like a choir boy or Christmas figurine. His innocence did remind me of a young Dylan, especially paired with the depth and complexity of his words. His delivery was very clear, with lung capacity almost impossible to believe. Once in a while he’d do something unexpected and funny on the piano and laugh at himself.

Some songs were contrastingly intense. A highlight was “Nina + Field of Cops,” a clamor of hammering piano and breathless vocals. I’m unable to tell how his mind could keep up with the words leaving his mouth. Yet each one was delivered with ferocity and delicious clarity.

Nina knows the reason, and she's seen into the mouth of

What it is to be a mountain, and she's seen all the good pigeon-like

People shot down and bones be kicked to powder

By the insane wild horses

Nina I'm not nothing but when you lie on the piano

I am reminded I am SO stupid, and in every upstairs room

The deep and smiling voices shushing, kicking everything to powder

Throwing music out the window

Winter’s encore took place in the balcony where he played “$0” on the church’s organ, one of my favorite songs in his oeuvre. I couldn’t really see him playing up there, so I bowed my head in meditation and took in the performance. I felt total sincerity in every word.