Cleveland was a quiet town on Sunday night. It had been a long and wonderful weekend filled with numerous music and party options, including a day-long underground rock scene mega-fest, and many of the usual concert-goers were only able to think of an early bedtime or  about getting everything accomplished that had been pushed aside for the previous two days of mayhem.

Likewise, The Horse’s Ha were a tired band of troubadours. They had driven in from New York, following a three night stand there, which itself had been prefaced by touring elsewhere throughout the middle-eastern corridor of the country. For the band, Cleveland was the last stop of the hectic travel schedule and it was plain to see that some members of the band were struggling with looking forward to the light at the end of the tour’s tunnel rather than focusing on that one last evening ahead.

Dynamics like these, when occurring together, can occasionally yield surprisingly intimate performances that participants on both sides of the stage come away from more than a little amazed. More often, though, these dynamics work together to create a situation where you find a spartan and timid  audience passively listening to an exhausted and aloof performance. To be in the room and feel the various moments of tension, to see empty chairs outnumber those occupied nearly 3 to 1, it was impossible to avoid being taken out of the moment, to not feel a touch of alienation. Add in the increasingly warm physical environment – the result of the venue’s poor managerial decision to turn off the air conditioning earlier in the evening – and the unhappy stage was set.

This is ultimately most disappointing because, given the opportunity to listen to a quality recording of the night’s performance, I think most objective and informed listeners would say the Cleveland show was a treat. The band played a brief set of seven songs, including four from their recent album Of the Cathmawr Yards and three newer tunes, and the sound was consistently moving and morose and magical. The primary instrumentalists – Jim Elkington on acoustic guitar (as well as vocals), Nick Macri on upright bass, and drummer Charles Rumback (cellist Fred Lonberg-Holm was unable to attend the show) – were consistently tight and impossibly lush, given the minimalistic arrangements, and while lead vocalist Janet Bean alternated between playing mandola, melodica, and shakers, her vocals were true and full throughout the set.

The set began with two songs from the album, “Plumb” and “Asleep in a Waterfall,” and as Bean and Elkington started singing the opening lyrics (“Once I dreamt my woodcut did speak …”) I immediately remembered what made me love the Of the Cathmawr Yards album in the first place. When singing, Bean’s effort is captivating, all concentration and effort, and both Elkington’s tenor voice and acoustic guitar is patient and composed. There was something missing, given Lonberg-Holm’s absence, but Macri and Rumback were more than solid in their roles.

Unfortunately, when the music stopped, all the good will built up during the songs would be dashed away with repeated and belabored jokes about the size of the crowd, from sarcastic references to the show being “intimate” and a “workshop” to Bean’s self-sorry wondering about where the band developed their talent to drive everyone in an audience away. At this point, even Elkington said something like, “Now, now Janet – that’s not fair,” but the mood was set, and during nearly every song break the audience was treated to more complaining, most always from Bean. (Although in Bean’s defense, at one point she did compliment the sausage-making prowess of Cleveland Slovenians, saying it was the best she’d ever had. Not only the best Slovenian sausage, but the best sausage period. That’s something, anyway.)

Still, when The Horse’s Ha played, on new songs like “Ole Stole” and “Witchfinder” and the lengthy ballad “Bonesetter,” the audience was rapt, and when the band completed each tune, the audience clapped within reason. On more familiar songs, like “Piss Choir” and especially “Map the Stars,” the audience listened like a toddler being read his or her favorite book for the hundredth time, engaged, familiar, and content. The Horse’s Ha is not a band you are going to throw out devil horns to or scream out rebel yells, and the only difference between the audience the band had versus the one they apparently wanted was louder clapping. Song after song, I found myself returning to an old aphorism I’ve heard innumerable musicians reference in one form or another: Play for the audience you have, not the one you don’t. Each time I thought about it during the show, on the drive home, and today while I prepared this review, I tried to decide how I felt about the show’s poor attendance. On one hand, I can understand why it would be disappointing and upsetting for a band to come through a town and find a smaller and perhaps quieter audience than they hoped for; on the other, it doesn’t make a lot of sense or win a lot of friends to continue jabbing the eyeballs of the supporters who did attend. I can only imagine how differently it all would have gone, had they opted for taking a page out of David Eugene Edwards of 16 Horsepower and Woven Hand’s book, saying sincerely “thank you for clapping” after each song and moving  on to the next, rather than offering faux congratulations to those in attendance for alternately being “discerning” and “wise” and “the smartest people in Cleveland,” simply for appreciating the band’s presence.

Still, those in the audience that stayed throughout the set seemed more impressed by the musical performance than dismayed by the on-stage pouting, and members of the band were besieged by fans after the set ended with requests for autographs and answers for music-related questions. I had the opportunity to chat for a few minutes with bass player Macri and then guitarist Elkington, and both were kind and funny gentlemen. As I said goodbye and thank you for playing on my way to the exit, Bean grabbed my hand and said something nice. Even in the minute or so we spoke, it was clear that she is ordinarily a lovely person, and obviously an immense talent.

Still, the night was marred by events extraneous to the core performance on stage – a too-hot room, a too-small crowd, a t00-tired and too-disappointed band. However, The Horse’s Ha remain purveyors of beauty and I, for one, will be in the room again when they make their next trip to Cleveland. I’ll just hope it isn’t on a summery Sunday night, that the climate control is appropriately set, and that Lonberg-Holm is free that evening.