This article first appeared in the St. Louis Beacon, Jan. 17, 2011 - As the fans of Ms. Lauryn Hill streamed out of the Pageant at 2 a.m., Monday morning, one man called out, "She killed it," and across the sidewalk, someone answered him: "We knew she would!"
Many among the remaining crowd buzzed with effusive praise. For some St. Louis ticket-holders, however, steeped in warnings of four-hour waits and lackluster performances, this kind of confidence was hard to come by -- and, even afterward, far from universal.
Sunday's concert confirmed what has become a definite pattern for the artist The New York Times described as "maybe the most gifted female rapper in history, one of the most versatile pop talents in recent memory and also one of the great modern celebrity recluses." For the past month of this rare tour, bloggers and reviewers from Brooklyn to Atlanta have chronicled mixed reactions to Hill's late arrivals and songs re-imagined almost beyond recognition, presented in what some have called unprofessional, borderline sloppy performances.
Sunday's concert excited the same criticisms that have dogged earlier shows on her tour, and her response so far has been in keeping with themes that emerge in her music: a right to personal growth as both a musician and a performer. In the now oft-quoted retort to angry fans in Williamsburg, she addressed accusations of disrespect directly with, "I spent my entire 20s sacrificing my life to give you love. So when I hear people complain, I don't know what to tell you. I personally know I'm worth the wait."
After repeated late starts in other cities, event planners pushed back the official show time from 7 to 9 p.m. in an attempt to mitigate the wait, offering refunds within a limited time frame. Feedback began flowing long before the concert started -- even long before ticket-holders arrived at the Pageant. For fans such Cyrena Collins, a 29-year-old cosmetologist, Hill's recent behavior seemed like a risk, albeit a risk worth taking.
"But I bought insurance with my ticket," Collins said.
Even with lowered expectations and $53 prices, it was still difficult to track down tickets for the sold out show. Hundreds of people registered to win remaining seats through radio station and newspaper contests.
"I've been waiting for Lauryn to come back for 10 years," said Ervin Williams, a high school English teacher who attended her last St. Louis performance in 2002. "When you get an artist like Lauryn Hill who is different than the average, you have to take advantage of that opportunity. That's somebody you want to see in your lifetime. Lauryn Hill is the Marvin Gaye of this generation. She is the iconic message you want to hear delivered."
When Hill had not arrived by 11 p.m. -- two hours after doors opened -- the crowd at the Pageant stayed relatively calm. Aside from a few heated demands for refunds in the ticket booth, fans danced to throwback rap and R&B hits spun in reverse chronological order by DJ Rampage. They laid bets on her arrival time, and used cell phones to popularize a #laurynhill hashtag on Twitter with mock speculations about the circumstances holding her up ("#laurynhill got pulled over for speeding in Rock Hill" and "#lauryn hill distracted by her own reflection in the Arch. She'll be here shortly").
Her band began before she arrived, taking up their instruments piece by piece until Hill took the stage at 11:52 p.m., greeting St. Louis like an old friend. And at least at first, the crowd responded in kind. She announced "We're going to do old music for you in new ways to keep it interesting," to loud cheers, and maintained that energy through a cover of Bob Marley's "Forever Loving Jah."
At a given moment, she would invite the audience to participate, expressing appreciation for the energy and intimacy of the venue. At others, she said: "You do your part and I'll do mine," launching into barely recognizable new versions of songs from her 1998 Miseducation album. Reactions were once again mixed -- in the middle of the floor, some danced with tangible excitement, while others on the periphery struggled to keep their eyes open at 1, then 1:30, then 2 a.m. By the time Hill moved into more familiar versions of such popular hits as the Fugees anthem "Fu-Gee-La" and her Grammy-winning remake of Roberta Flack's "Killing me Softly," the audience had thinned to a smaller, yet still significant size.
Throughout the show, Hill made decisions on the spot -- she asked the lighting director to dim the brights and refocus the spotlight; she told audience members to sing along for effect, and punctuated the whole show with directives to her band members. Some she accompanied with good-natured threats, like when she gestured at a guitarist with her microphone and threatened to "bonk" him with it; others carried a more ambiguous tone. In one of the more memorable quotes of the evening, she turned her back to the audience surveyed her fellow performers and warned, "Don't waste this tune."
Hill's behavior has launched speculation: If fans pay to see her play, are they entitled to familiar music and organized performances? Or should Hill herself define the terms of a concert ticket, even if it means losing fans along the way? Is it "disrespect" or is it "artistic license" -- essentially, for whom is she performing?
"I just hope it doesn't come to a situation where people get upset with her, where she upsets the people who put her in the position that she's in right now. But I think she is a person who has done her art, and she doesn't have any apologies for what she does. She says 'I am Lauryn Hill, you can like me or you don't have to'," Williams said.
Some answer by asking for refunds, they leave early and vow to boycott her future shows. But despite the warnings, St. Louisans turned out: By the end of the night, the fans who did not leave early answered every call-and-response to her closing number, "Doo-Wop (That Thing)," one of her most popular songs. People crowded the stage to touch her hands and someone waved a cutout photograph of the singer's profile from the balcony.
"I expect for her voice to be beautiful and for her to be her. She can be a little different, but I'm a Lauryn Hill fan to the heart," Collins said.
Ariana Tobin, a student at Washington University, is an intern with the Beacon.