In Bob Dylan’s realm of shadows

Bob Dylan’s ‘broadcast event’ (let’s not call it a live concert) is often compared to the performances given by various artists in season 3 of the TV series *Twin Peaks*. That’s perfectly understandable. Just like the *Twin Peaks* café The Bang Bang Bar, Shadow Kingdom also seems like a dream world that exists in its own right, cut off from space and time. Dylan’s performance is said to have been recorded at The Bon Bon Club, somewhere in Marseille. A quick Google search reveals that it doesn’t exist, but is it a coincidence that the name does bear a certain resemblance to The Bang Bang Bar?

In this kingdom, only shadows seem to exist. Dylan remains largely shrouded in mist, cigarette smoke or light reflections. The lights shine down on his curls from above, and from the camera, which seems to be positioned halfway down a pub, we watch faceless extras. They smoke, drink and sway whilst the ageing singer performs his act: like a washed-up artist who once knew success but now merely scrapes a living in dreary venues where the only sign of life is in the garlands hanging in front of the air conditioning.

We know Dylan is never in the spotlight, but this time even the band members are shrouded in mystery. Their face masks betray an ongoing pandemic, but also erase their presence. Are they actually playing? Online, opinions are divided anyway: Bob is said to be lip-synning, and the footage of instruments being played doesn’t seem to match what you hear.

*During I’ll Be Your Baby Tonight*, he suddenly stands right in the frame, with two young women at his side who now look defiantly into the camera and then brush some imaginary dust from his shoulder. Even in this close-up, if we can call it that, we barely get close to the singer. Dylan barely takes his gaze off the camera, but his eyes give nothing away. His face, still half-hidden behind a microphone, betrays nothing. Fill in the blanks yourself.

Dylan changes his outfit a few times, and those suits always seem a bit baggy. And then: a hand on his hip, two clenched fists by his chest, the occasional finger pointing skywards to emphasise a line of the lyrics.

You have to make do with those small gestures. Little seems to happen in Shadow Kingdom and yet, at the same time, it is endlessly fascinating. Not only thanks to the visual compositions, which are mostly captured with one or two fixed cameras per song, but not least thanks to the newly arranged songs.

During these recordings, we listen to Dylan’s ‘early songs’. Another joke, surely? The most recent track is What Was It You Wanted from 1989. You can hardly call that an ‘early song’ from someone who released his first album as early as 1962. Incidentally, we hear absolutely nothing from those early records.

Dylan owes a great deal to his band members, who, not for nothing, sometimes form the centre of the stage whilst the singer stands right at the edge of your screen. In (It’s All Over Now) Baby Blue you see it happening right before your eyes: the musicians are constantly reacting to what Dylan does, like waves adapting to the surfer. He’s never lost that peculiar timing in his singing.

After 50 minutes, you’re unceremoniously kicked out of the Shadow Kingdom. It’s quite possible that music is still being made there. Sometimes a glistening garland falls from the wall and the smoke grows thicker and thicker, until those present have vanished into the mist.