REVIEW: Gregory Alan Isakov + Philadelphia Orchestra = Immaculate Conception
08/22 @ SPAC, Saratoga Springs
Photos by Elissa Ebersold
“With nary a note out of place the entire night, this was one of the most immaculate performances I’ve ever seen.”
As I approached the parking lot outside the gates of SPAC, a daunting thought entered my mind: “I sure hope I can stay awake for this…” That’s not a commentary on Gregory Alan Isakov’s music, despite some of his songs having the same soothing qualities as a cozy snuggle on a chilly autumn night. It’s merely the fact that I’d been out past midnight the two nights prior and, pushing 40, I can’t hang like I used to. Not to mention, the caffeinated remedy I procured for the ride up was disappointingly weak at best. Time to rally.
Or… perhaps there would be no need. From the first note, my fears were deemed unwarranted; Isakov and the Philadelphia Orchestra kept me and the entire audience at SPAC enraptured all the way until the final symphonic trails stopped echoing through the venue grounds. Dare I say, I was more awake when I left than when I’d arrived.
After the orchestra took their seats and tuned up, Isakov walked out with a banjo, donning a large hat that Elissa and I debated the name of. (Our best answer? A Stetson fedora. For any and all hat-related questions, hit us up. We’re experts now.) Following Isakov was conductor Christopher Dragon, who took his place on a riser behind the Grammy-nominated songwriter, readying the orchestra. The entire stage came alive with the sounds of “Before the Sun” from 2023’s Appaloosa Bones, and the tone was set for the rest of the night. One thing became immediately apparent: the sound mixing was fantastic. With so many musicians on stage — over 80, to give you an idea— the fact that nothing ever sounded muddled was an impressive feat, to say the least.
Throughout the program, Isakov’s often intimate songs became enormous with the assistance of the incredible Philadelphia Orchestra. His more popular songs were at once recognizable while also taking on new life, and the deeper cuts became songs worthy of additional listens on the drive home. One of Isakov’s most notable songs, “San Luis,” featured orchestral crescendos so moving, they even took the spotlight off his lyrics at times. And the climax of “Amsterdam” was so powerful, Elissa and I had goosebumps appearing on our arms at the exact same time.
In a conversation I had with Isakov a few weeks before the show, he commented that, “For me, a great show is full of what I call ‘God moments’ — these moments when you're with a lot of people and you're listening to a piece of music and everybody sort of loses themselves at the same time.” “Amsterdam” was the first of many such moments; throughout the night, you could feel the entire crowd reacting to the same passages together, sporadic applause and ooh’s and ahh’s echoing throughout the amphitheatre. With the exception of the few individuals who were visibly breaking the “no photo or video” rule, we were truly a crowd in unison, experiencing a moment in real time. It’s such a simple concept, and yet it feels like an honest phenomenon in 2026.
Set one ended with a thunderous performance of “Liars,” fully equipped with staccato strings and immaculate harmonies from his core band. Isakov’s violinist was literally shredding his bow hairs right beside the upright bassist bouncing to the beat of the song, lifting his entire massive instrument off the ground as he took full advantage of the limited space on stage left. Isakov’s songs don’t generally invoke a lot of body movement on recording and yet I found myself gyrating in my seat more than once during the performance.
After an intermission/merch-buying opportunity, set two began in a more delicate fashion, Isakov on his nylon-stringed acoustic, his band waiting in the wings until song two. While the first set leaned more bombastic and explosive, the second was decidedly more warm and emotional. It was a perfect yin yang sequencing, each selection of songs providing their own memorable moments befitting the mood accordingly. The harmonica-featuring “Miles to Go” was especially gorgeous, and the beginning of “Second Chances” brought audible cheers of approval from the audience, singing along to the chorus’ mantra “If it weren’t for second chances, we’d all be alone” from our seats. You could almost see a slight grin appear on his face during this standout.
Isakov was a man of few words throughout the night, letting the music speak for itself. The majority of the night, he appeared to have his eyes closed, as if contemplating every note with the utmost care and delicacy. In one of the rare moments when he addressed the crowd, he recalled working through these songs in his kitchen, noting how strange it was to now be playing them with 80ish people on stage. “I’m the worst musician up here by far,” he said humbly, his band smiling beside him. The crowd naturally protested.
The band’s second set finale was an explosive version of “Caves” off 2018’s Evening Machines. The enthusiastic Dragon was all smiles, his feet lifting off the ground at the more powerful moments in the piece. The song’s refrain “Let’s put all these words away” was repeated over and over as the music behind it winded down, an invitation for the crowd to either sing along, or ponder its meaning before the band and conductor briefly left the stage. I found myself very much doing the latter, the orchestra enveloping me in sound and soothing my soul while I debated. Was it a call to action for the population at large to put down the pitchforks, or the more sentimental route of locking away conversations with a loved one for safe keeping?
And then there was the encore. The six members of Isakov’s band all crowded around a single, omnidirectional microphone in front of the orchestra for “Feed Your Horses” and “Saint Valentine.” Although the sound was no less full or immense than the rest of the night, hearing the six of them huddled together in harmony, it was as if we were sitting in a living room watching them rehearse. Think O Brother, Where Art Thou, or perhaps A Mighty Wind, except with, you know, an entire symphony. It was, to put it mildly, a fucking delight. (An actual quote from my typo-laden notetaking.) The drummer was standing there, audibly keeping the beat with sticks on his legs, for goodness sake.
As someone who can count on one hand the number of live orchestras he’s seen, Isakov’s pairing with the Philadelphia Orchestra made me realize how much is missing from my vast concert resume. With nary a note out of place the entire night, this was one of the most immaculate performances I’ve ever seen. Truly a splendid evening at SPAC.
