A Night With the Fairies: Paris Paloma in Portland (Gallery + Show Review)
Photos and show review by guest contributor Adele Lindsay
The theme for Paris Paloma's Portland show at the Roseland Theater was Pyrrhus, and fans were invited to take inspiration from their favorite Greek myths, mortals, and monsters. There were plenty of togas, gladiator sandals, and even a headband of snakes …but the fairies, as Paris refers to her fans, were encouraged to treat the theme as a guide and dress however their hearts desired. The room took her at her word and flower crowns, peasant tops and dresses, delicate circlets, intricate braids, and glitter filled the floor.
The crowd was largely women and gender-diverse people, with only a few men, and that shaped the feel of the venue; it felt like a safe space from the moment I got in line at the door. When the lights went down, the crowd was breathless. Paris came out barefoot in a black dress with intricate detailing and long, draped medieval sleeves which moved beautifully as she twirled and leapt across the stage. A giant sculpture of the red tree from the cover of Paris’ new album The Fatal Flaw loomed behind her with twisting bark and branches topped with hearts and stars.
Between songs, Paris spoke several times about issues weighing on all of us as a community. Before "Miyazaki," she talked about fighting against AI taking over art. She said she wrote "Good Girl" in the face of all the pressure that comes to conform to unrealistic modern beauty standards. She mentioned the ongoing press around the Cornell 7 and Jane Doe. It was great (and honestly very refreshing, considering how many singers choose to avoid politics) to hear her speak about these issues we're all facing at this moment in time, and her songs weave those same struggles together beautifully.
A couple of songs before the encore, I was shooting from the balcony when someone on their way back to their seat handed me a small orange bag decorated with gold moons and stars. Inside was a card reading "I am a spirit having a human experience and I'm here to get closer to love," along with two delicate flower stickers, and a silver star charm. It was a small physical display of the warm and ethereal vibe that filled the room with joy and power through the messages that Paris threads throughout her music.
It was when Paris returned to the stage to perform “labour” for the encore that I realized I had forgotten to put my earplugs in. The crowd roared, leaning into the therapeutic act of shouting the poignant and painful lyrics together. The room had felt unified all night, and I got the chills many times throughout the show feeling everyone’s responses to Paris’ music, but this was the moment that brought me a few tears that were equal parts joy and feminine rage. Every woman should have the opportunity to scream “All day, every day, therapist, mother, maid/Nymph, then a virgin, nurse, then a servant/Just an appendage, live to attend him/So that he never lifts a finger” with a room full of strangers.
Even after the lights came on, a large group in front of the stage started dancing in a ring-around-the-rosy to a song playing over the speakers. Getting through the exits was slow, so everyone who wasn't close enough to join could still watch and share in their joy. It was the perfect ending to the evening; Paris’ ethereal and powerful music brought Portland together in a powerful way that evening.
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