Bjork in Hong Kong

I went to see Bjork the other night at Asia World Expo. It was exactly the spectacle I had hoped for. For some reason only a few thousand people came to see this incomparable Nordic star in action.

All of the eccentricities were out in full force. Visually, it was vivid. Hanging from the ceiling were medieval pennants adorned with pastel fish and amphibians. And beneath, she danced in a firecracker dress, smashing cymbals with her outstretched little hands. Wailing, writhing and wafting through eerie synths and spooky sounds and playful green lasers while an odd and animated horn section swayed with their shiny brass instruments under flapping and flagging red banners.

Her voice was a signature moan. The music ranged from soothing to savage, peaking with the growling, stomping, jungle war cry of "Army of Me."

She spoke to the crowd only little. At first to request that they turn off the hundreds of video cameras you see glowing above the bouncing heads of every show. (Amazingly enough, most heeded her wish.) And later to innocently congratulate Hong Kong on the Olympics and speak a little Cantonese.

The finale had thousands of white paper squares explode into the air and rain down like snow. She barked the words to "Declare Independence" and the chorus echoed in a wild chant over and over and the crowd joined in and the frenzy grew and the lyrics spat out from the wild-eyed few: "Raise your own flag! Raise your own flag!"