Bird (and a wire)

No summer day is complete without a soundtrack of screaming children, the opening of tupperware boxes and birdsong. The Barbican clearly have similar views, and the latest installation in their 'Curve' space heralds in the upcoming season with a flock of zebra finches in a walkthrough aviary. However this is a aviary with a difference; it comes complete with Gibson guitars and cymbals (all liberally sprinkled with seed, pools of water and bird shit).

For this is birdsong with a difference. Presented in the bright, airy Curve, the birds flutter onto the symbols and strings of the guitars and create stabs of noise. It's all complimented by excitable orni-chatter and befuddled looks from the limited capacity crowd trickling through the curtained entrance.

Some critics have compared this bird-music to the last Sonic Youth album. It's a glib statement; clearly the sounds these birds make with the instruments is a lot more worthwhile. What we have is an adventurous, thought provoking and amusing installation. It'll be curious to see what the artist - Celeste Boursier-Mougenot - will do next; this unique spectacle is pretty memorable and difficult to out-weird. I advise you check it out in person; the much-viewed YouTube video doesn't do it justice.

Sad With What I Have

Some people shoot out the womb to a fanfare of YMCA, played by pink thonged muscle men. Rufus Wainwright is one of these lucky souls. He used to express this intrinsic camp with highly orchestral, over-produced classical pop. But now he's getting the orchestra to talk to the hand with Songs for Lulu. It's a naked record. It comprises of songs performed on a single piano and voice. And it's not just musically stark.

The record is being released in the wake of his mother's death. She had been ill for a while, and Rufus clearly believes in working his way through grief through music. It's most explicit, and devastating, in 'Martha', when Rufus sings 'Martha, it's your brother calling, it's time to go up north to see mother, things are harder for her now' and Zebulon ('My mother's in the hospital... there's so much to tell you').

But, being Rufus, things are more complex than the surface may betray. Martha is also about sibling solidarity in the times of troubles. Zebulon is about putting aside your own issues and reaching out to others. Both are a million miles away from 'Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk'; a song recorded less than ten years ago where he sings about his legal - and illegal - cravings. This new Rufus is more complicated, mature and, in these moments, world class in his songwriting.

Elsewhere success is more mixed. His trio of Shakesperian sonnets set to music are a little hard going, if admirable. 'Give Me What I Want...' is ambitious in its attempt to capture a stress-induced tantrum in two minutes, but ultimately as trying as the thing it portrays. Thankfully for every one of these there are two more tracks like 'The Dream', which come to the rescue by injecting some heart.

So while not as complete or as consistent as other albums such as the glorious 'Want One', 'Songs for Lulu' is an important album for Rufus. It shows the maturing of an artist whose glory days are clearly still to come. And I can't wait to see him perform it live.