by Marc Fong
Gordi‘s set at Baba Yaga last week was a masterclass in restraint and release. From the opening moments, her voice carried the room; clear, aching, and unhurried, the kind of instrument that doesn’t need to shout to command attention. While she built layers of texture on her own, shaping sound in a way that felt less like a single voice filling a room and more like weather moving through the venue, swelling and pulling back in turn.
Baba Yaga’s intimate setting suited her perfectly, close enough that every breath and hesitation in her phrasing registered, and what stood out most was how powerful she seemed in the silence, letting pauses linger between songs, chatting briefly with the crowd in a way that felt genuine and intimate rather than performative, before diving back into material that alternated between spare, keyboard-led moments and fuller, more textured stretches built up through her own layering. Her dynamic range, moving from a near-whisper to a full-throated belt without ever seeming to strain, gave the night an emotional arc that built steadily rather than peaking too early, so that by the end of, the show, the room had the hushed, slightly reverent quality of an audience that knew it had witnessed something considered and deeply felt, carried by one amazing performer.
