Canberra Reviews

Gillian Welch and David Rawlings filled the theatre with the kind of quiet focus that’s becoming rare on big stages. No band. No spectacle. Two performers, a small collection of instruments, and a room prepared to listen.

Welch was mesmerising in an ankle-length black dress with layers of lace and textured fabric, her long silver hair loose over her shoulders. Rawlings stayed close with his face shadowed by a signature cowboy hat – guitar at the centre of the sound, banjo appearing later – and among many acts of shared kindnesses, he tuned it for her. The staging was minimal and effective: warm yellow light, a hint of haze, nothing that pulled attention from the music.

The show’s strength was in the detail and the trust between the two of them. Rawlings is a precise guitarist – his playing is rarely decorative, more like a second voice that banters and sharpens the shape of a song. Welch’s singing remains direct and unforced. She doesn’t oversell emotion – she lets the lyric do the work.

Between songs, Welch and Rawlings were dryly funny and delightfully candid. Welch mentioned they’ve been mixing up setlists and revisiting older material, and she openly wondered what the audience might get on any given night. That looseness worked in their favour – the concert didn’t feel like a fixed greatest hits run-through, but an evening shaped in real time.

Rawlings also told a story about slipping at a swimming hole, spraining his ankle, and worrying he wouldn’t be able to get his cowboy boot on for the show – an image that landed well in a theatre full of people who clearly adore them. Their conversation never dragged – it kept the room intimate.

Welch remarked that the Canberra Theatre Playhouse was a wonderful venue for sound, letting the final note ring out longer than any other room on the tour. They leaned into that acoustic generosity, holding still until chords fully died away. The audience followed their lead – minimal movement and joyful, peaceful absorption. It felt like permission to close your eyes and simply soak up the playing and the stories.

After an interval, the second set settled into deeper, slower territory. The mood didn’t sag – if anything, the restraint became the point.

There’s a reason the theatre was full. Welch and Rawlings deliver an old-fashioned standard of musicianship – simple presentation, exact playing, and total commitment to the song. Canberra listened hard, and they gave the audience plenty to hold onto.