Criticism of quiet sound: Sting delights thousands of fans on Peißnitz Island...

No thunder, no lightning, no wailing sirens. Gordon Sumner, better known to the world by his stage name Sting, strides into the spotlight just a few minutes past 8, waving his arm.

The stage director turns off The Cure's opening music. Sting smiles amiably, briefly puts his hands to his face as if in prayer, and then they begin with "Message in the Bottle," one of the biggest hits of his band The Police.

The northern Englishman has just re-recorded these, like some of his most beautiful solo works, as "My Songs," "contemporarily," as he himself calls it.

However, "Message in a Bottle," this twitchy cry for help made up of sus chords, has changed as little as the bass Sting has strapped around his neck. The Fender instrument has been the same for decades; the varnish has now worn off, and thick grooves run through the wood.

Fitting for a man of yesterday, who today, at least from a distance, still looks as if time has passed him by without a trace. "Message in a Bottle" is 40 years old, Sting himself 67. The song plays a bit with the handbrake on today, and Sting sings it a bit lower. But together they rock the Peißnitz stage, where the fans applaud enthusiastically.

"Hello, Halle," says Sting, never a big speaker on stage, but today apparently in a good mood. Sting is on a kind of home tour with his best songs; he doesn't have to introduce new material that no one knows, while everyone is just waiting for the big hits, which he only plays so that no one is disappointed.

Today, it's one song after another: "If I ever lose my faith in you" follows, then "Englishman in New York," with the audience singing along loudly. "Oh, I'm an alien," the ten thousand people cheer, and it gets really loud on Peißnitz Island.

That's not what it is until then. The band, featuring guitarists Dominic and Rufus Miller, Josh Freese on drums, keyboardist Kevon Webster, and backing vocalists Melissa Musique and Gene Noble, plays cleanly and soulfully, but without any pressure.

This still works for songs like Sting's soulful solo piece "If You Love Somebody Set Them Free." It's a balmy summer evening, embellished with reggae rhythms. But "Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic," one of those Police numbers in which Sting launches into his battle cry "Ihoho," starts to falter a bit. This is no longer energetic rock, but fluffy pop for self-proclaimed singers.

The fans, who have traveled from all over Germany, take it as an invitation. "Ihoho, ihoho" resounds into the summer sky. Sting grins at his two backing singers and lets them do most of the work on "Waiting For The Break Of Day," which he released last year with reggae star Shaggy.

Afterwards, it's off to the realm of ballads. Sting, in a black muscle shirt, black jeans with knee zips, and black sneakers, plays the dreamy "Fields of Gold," then "Shape of My Heart" and "Wrapped Around Your Finger" with Rofus Miller's Pink Floyd-esque guitar.

World-weary numbers about bleeding hearts and passing years, childhood, fame, old age, and death. The man, who plays his bass like a guitar, wipes the sweat from his brow with a black towel, true to style.

The following "Walking in the Moon," a jagged, crisp rock number by the Police, becomes an expedition in slow motion. Sting takes a lunge to the edge of the stage and looks up at the sky. But there's no moon, nowhere; it's still light over Halle.

Sting casually interjects the Bob Marley classic "Get Up, Stand Up," letting the bass be bass for now, waving, clapping, and demonstratively touching his ear: "I can't hear anything!" The crowd willingly sings along, especially when Sting interrupts the lively classic "So Lonely" and improvises the lines "I'm in Halle, with my voice, in Halle" in German. Ihoho, ihoho, and "I feel so lonely," Sting and the Sumner choirs, the passionate jazz musician in his element with his entire band.

At one point, Melissa Musique and Gene Noble snatch the chorus from the background. Sting raises his eyebrows and shrugs.

With "Desert Rose," things are now getting Arabic, with "Roxanne" potentially more classical, but for his performance in Halle, Sting has planned a world premiere. Instead of playing the song - in the original from 1978 - as usual, fast and sharp, Sting straps on an acoustic guitar tonight and takes a trip into bar jazz.

Then it's already the final round. A lively "Demolition Man," an "Every Breath You Take," and the musicians take their bows, and Sting claps for the audience. The crowd roars and roars, and so he reappears, again without a bass, strapped on like an acoustic guitar.

The even quieter than quiet "Fragile" is a smash-hit for the way home. The sun sets behind Sting, the crowd is silent and reveling. The end and over. "What a shame, it was just getting so beautiful," says a spectator as he leaves.

(c) Mitteldeutsche Zeitung by Steffen Könau