BEATrio At National Concert Hall

BEATrio
National Concert Hall
Dublin, Ireland
July 7, 2025

Some stars take longer than others to align. In the case of BEATrio, the supergroup of drummer Antonio Sanchez, harpist Edmar Castaneda and banjoist Bela Fleck, you could say that the stars took 16 years to line up.

BEATrio might not exist at all, but for the influence of Ustad Zakir Hussain. In 2008, the late tabla maestro invited Sánchez to India for the annual concert honoring the memory of his father—Abbaji Ustad Allarakha. There, Sánchez met Béla Fleck, who was performing at the gathering in a nascent trio with Hussain and Edgar Meyer.

In 2023, while working on a duo album, Sánchez reconnected with Fleck. It was the banjoist who recommended Colombian harpist Castañeda—the two having first performed as a duo in 2019 at the Big Ears Festival. The three stars were now in each other's orbits. BEATrio made its live bow on a multi-night run at New York's Blue Note in September 2024. The trio's eponymous debut followed in 2025.

It was a less-than-packed National Concert Hall for this Monday night concert. Maybe concert halls, like restaurants, just do not do good business on the first working day of the week. For those who did attend, the reward was a two-hour concert of unbridled virtuosity and passion.

The trio opened with "Archipelago," which, whilst no tango, nevertheless shared some of the melodic contours typical of Astor Piazzolla. A terrific opening solo from Fleck was answered in no less stylish terms by Castañeda, whose unique language—blending folk elements from the arpa llanera traditions of Venezuela and Colombia—mixed seamlessly with jazz, and, as the evening progressed, African, Brazilian and flamenco influences too. Sánchez, a lithe, bustling presence, responded with a rhythmic freedom that lay at the root of BEATrio's idiom. With a six-piece drum set and six cymbals in his armory, Sánchez reveled in polyrhythms of constantly shifting dynamics—a combination of swing and muscle that was part Art Blakey, part John Bonham.

Harp, banjo and drums is an unusual combination, and it took the ears a while to attune to the overlapping, interweaving voices. Bass line duties were shared. Castañeda did the heavy lifting in this regard with a busy left hand, though Sánchez's bass drum and Fleck's comping lines all fed into the grooves—and this was seriously grooving music. Serious musicianship, but fun too. The playful, head-bobbing rhythm of "Pellucidar" carried expansive solos from all three musicians. Fleck's feet-rooted focus as he embarked on a sinewy exploration contrasted with Castañeda's boxer-like gesticulations—weaving side to side, ducking and springing up as he jabbed, probed and attacked his strings. Sánchez crowned the procession with a feisty feature over a joint harp-cum-banjo vamp.

Some of the most arresting passages came in divergences from the trio's debut album. On the lively "Throw Down Your Heart," the African roots of both banjo and harp arose in sharp relief, while Dublin ears will likely have registered the reel-like qualities in Fleck's dancing melodic lines and compulsive rhythmic drive. Given the centuries-old, intercontinental flow of peoples—chained and unchained—such overlapping characteristics felt anything but contrived.

An extended drum solo introduced "Kaleidoscope," Sánchez whipping up a storm on mallets and then sticks. On cue, banjo and harp entered the fray in a supporting role to the tireless drummer. Fleck broke ranks first with a solo of breathless invention, the music peaking in a heady unison finale.

Introducing "Whispers of Resilience," Castañeda related how breaking his hand had threatened to end his career as a harpist. Fear, faith and acceptance were the watchwords of his tale—themes which translated into playing of tenderness and exquisite delicacy. At the opposite pole, the trio served up quicksilver thrills on the rocking "Countryside"—12 minutes of adrenaline-fueled virtuosity.

Switches between collective fire and unaccompanied intimacy kept the choreography fresh and stimulating. Fleck's fleet-picking solo turn on "Rhapsody in Blue (grass)" paid handsome tribute to George Gershwin. Without pause for breath the trio launched into "Walnut and Western," whose cheery melody bookended further brilliance from Fleck—as rootsy as Earl Scruggs, as searching as Jerry Garcia—and a scene-stealing turn from Sánchez.

An extraordinary exchange then unfolded between Castañeda and Sánchez. The Colombian's bolder gestures and greater physical animation may have drawn most eyes his way, but the Mexican's cajoling and bold provocations provided essential kindling and generous coals to their fire.

Taking the microphone, Fleck related how in penning "Cloak and Dagger," the trio had debated whether its rhythms were tango, cha cha or danzón. As this charged number took the trio down the homestretch there were flashes of the myriad musical strands connecting BEATrio—folksy trans-Atlantic melodies, rhythms of the Americas and Afro-Cuban groove.

The final goodbye came with a full-blooded bluegrass variation on The Beatles "Blackbird, "with Fleck's dazzling lead powered by Sánchez' and Castañeda's furious rhythmic pistons. As the crowd whooped and whistled its approval, it felt more like a Saturday night hooley.

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