Mark Guiliana at Stadtgarten

Mark Guiliana
Stadtgarten
Cologne, Germany
January 22, 2026

Moderation is abundant in January. But on this frosty Thursday evening, dizzied by the sugary scent of fructose-heavy mocktails and alcohol-free pilsner, an above-capacity crowd treated themselves to an unguarded night at the Stadtgarten. Their host, Mark Guiliana, served up a potent brew of fizzy percussion and smooth-noted melodies.

It was a one-man show, despite Guiliana's claims to the contrary. In a short speech toward the end of the concert, the LA-based drummer expressed his belief that the audience helped make the music. "I don't know what I'm doing," he said. "But I'm relying on you. Even in silence, you're providing information and inspiration. In fact, sometimes the way you're listening... makes me a little nervous."

Perhaps nerves shaped the drummer's decision to sneak on stage under cover of darkness. As a projector beamed footage of a marching band onto the back wall, Guiliana slunk across the shadowy performance space to occupy one of his two drumkits. He then began a long passage of unaccompanied percussion, one foot resting on the hi-hat stand, slowly adding textures and density.

Videos kept rolling all night, switching from rewind to fast-forward and from color to black-and-white. Electronic samples and backdrops ran alongside them. Early in the set, baseball footage and a sportscaster's voice added jarring context to Guiliana's pretty piano playing. Screens and media content can augment life. They can distract from beauty, too. Here, they did both.

Guiliana took frequent strolls around the stage, grabbing whichever gong, chime, rattle or shaker met his requirements in that moment. When seated behind a drum kit or perching on the piano stool, he took breaks to catch his breath and stretch his back. These movements gave the audience insights into his decision-making and added visceral physicality to the experience—watching Guiliana selecting, straining, sticking his tongue out in concentration and pushing the work onwards.

This show signaled the end of a tour promoting Guiliana's first ever solo album Mark (Edition Records, 2025). To wrap things up, he chucked dozens of percussive doodads into the full-house crowd and led a spinetingling rendition of "Peace, Please." It is another song constructed around a stripped-back and sensitively performed melodic line on piano. Guiliana ended with a final burst of cymbal smashing before pitching forward, almost collapsing through the heart of his kit.

In a month of virtuous abstention, this sobering sonic concoction had its clean-living audience swooning. Guiliana is a prodigiously gifted multi-instrumentalist and composer, and this one-man concert demonstrated his blazing talent for understated but overwhelming performance. It was intoxicating music—processed by machinery to create a pure, full-bodied and restorative nectar.