Robert Plant and Alison Krauss gave a master class in the art of listening Tuesday at Pritzker Pavilion. The vocalists listened to each other, the movements of their fantastic band, the contours of the songs, the mood of the settings and the depth of the lyrics. The duo’s expert concentration and willingness to put the needs of the whole above any individual concern — coupled with their innate chemistry — defined a 100-minute concert as majestic as the beautiful early summer evening that greeted the large crowd.
Equally celebratory and reverential, the show took on greater significance given that the return of the seemingly unlikely pairing was never a foregone conclusion. Plant, the Led Zeppelin icon who for the last 30-odd years shunned millions in reunion tour guarantees in favor of pursuing adventurous solo work, and Krauss, a bluegrass legend with 27 Grammy Awards, first came together in 2007. The critical and commercial success of their debut LP (“Raising Sand”) and the acclaim of their subsequent tour (which stopped at Ravinia in 2008) stand as one of the most unexpected and inspiring music stories in recent history.
Still, prospects for a follow-up collaboration remained uncertain. The stylistically disparate singers first attempted additional recordings in 2009 but quickly decided to retreat to their own corners. Over the course of the next decade, they sent songs to one another in case another project transpired. In 2019, with producer T Bone Burnett again in the fold, the singers reconvened at a Nashville studio to see if they could again summon aural alchemy. Plant and Krauss completed “Raise the Roof” right before the onset of the pandemic. Akin to its predecessor, the album features the singers not just revisiting but reshaping a wide range of fare from bygone eras and the not-so-distant past.
Backed by an ace quintet that included Krauss’ brother Viktor (keyboards and guitar), Dennis Crouch (stand-up bass), Jay Bellerose (drums), Stuart Duncan (mandolin, guitar and fiddle) and JD McPherson (electric guitar), Plant and Krauss made music that sounded both cosmically out of time and ominously contemporary. Most of the tunes explored loss, longing and what can happen when the heart goes astray. The vocalists maintained a breathless calm in the face of pain and challenge, instilling deliveries with a hushed urgency. Whether sharing verses, harmonizing on a chorus or shading a lead, Plant and Krauss thrived within the open spaces of the deceptively minimalist arrangements.
Bluesy undercurrents, country accents and roots strains coursed through the songs. Mystery and wonder dominated; nostalgia never surfaced. Plant and Krauss often approached with a deliberate pace and long view, as if taking all the time required to evaluate situations, contemplate meanings and address subjects in a purposeful manner. Their unhurried and unforced techniques — combined with a blend of atmospheric textures, off-kilter beats, rounded twang and echoing reverb that caused notes to hang in the air like a stubborn fog — reinforced the subdued, haunted character of refashioned gems such as the Everly Brothers’ “The Price of Love” and the Ola Belle Reed murder ballad “You Led Me to the Wrong.”
The duo traded the lead and support roles on multiple songs. On a stripped-down cover of Allen Toussaint’s “Trouble with My Lover,” Krauss sang as if she was seated alone at a bar during last call and prepared to confide to anybody willing to hear her out. She upped the humidity by expressing jealousy, uncertainty and possessiveness in short, mellow, soulful bursts that threatened to — but never did — explode. During a brilliant overhaul of Bert Jansch’s “It Don’t Bother Me,” she channeled defiance. Her rich, arcing voice poured like molasses and intertwined with Plant’s reserved timbre as the band’s surrounding passages swelled and decayed. Occasionally, Krauss pulled double duty by playing the fiddle. Her secret weapon enhanced the desperation and sincerity of the Plant-Jimmy Page plea “Please Read the Letter.”
Speaking of Page, Plant and Krauss delved into three Led Zeppelin classics. “Rock and Roll” transformed into an Appalachian swing. “The Battle of Evermore” embraced its English folk heritage and found Krauss handling the highs and Plant laser-focused on conveying the narrative’s evocative imagery.
Plant and Krauss sounded even more potent on their duet of “When the Levee Breaks.” Commenced with a fiddle introduction that evoked the long, slow moan of a steam-train whistle, the Zeppelin staple shook with Malian-leaning rhythms. In light of current events — the war in Ukraine, refugee crises, global warming disasters, intra-country conflicts — its themes of forced displacement and tragedy, both clearly evident in the singers’ weighty inflection, sparked with escalated relevance.
As did several other war-related tunes the duo performed. A solemn reading of Calexico’s “Quattro (World Drifts In)” depicted the desolation and sadness that stem from combat. An ethereal interpretation of Geeshie Wiley’s “Last Kind Words Blues” addressed death, war and warnings in frank terms. Anchored by Plant’s famous wail, “High and Lonesome” rattled with big-picture questions of doubt, isolation and commitment. And on a heartbreaking rendition of Anne Briggs’ “Go Your Way,” the singers sketched a portrait of a woeful lover who wants to die as they ponder their partner’s likely fate in a faraway war.
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In scaling the music down, Plant and Krauss raised it — and its emotional intensity — up.
Robert Plant and Alison Krauss June 7 at Jay Pritzker Pavilion in Millennium Park; www.jaypritzkerpavilion.com