Beyonce: The Formation World Tour (2016)

Beyonce is the undisputed Queen. She slays for two hours. Now 19 years into her career, she has climbed to the top of the industry and can do no wrong. She unapologetically ("I Ain't Sorry") embraces her femininity, her sexuality, and her blackness. Her unprecedented visual album Lemonade is visually striking and provokes questions about race, gender, marriage and strength in the face of infidelity. It is an admirable accomplishment, but I am not sure all of these complex ideas shine through in her concert. The movie was such a force that it is perhaps too much to ask for a concert to convey such deep messages. But this is not to detract from what Beyonce does well in concert.

What is abundantly clear is the power of womanhood. Beyonce leads her all-female backup dancers in a militant march. In solidarity, they support Beyonce in mesmerizing, overtly sexualized dance. They project the a silhouette of Beyonce's figure perched atop a chair against the audience. The dance style is characterized by sharp, bold movements and Beyonce's ferocity comes through most in the dance sequences. I would say she dances as much as she sings, especially in the first half while she has energy. Luckily, she is a good dancer. The lighting actually detracts from the dance, blinding the audience and obscuring the dance, which is the strongest aspect of the concert.

The main set piece is an enormous LED box that revolves and splits down the middle. Clips of Lemonade are shown on all four sides. They keep the audience engaged during Beyonce's many costume changes. The stage is otherwise empty. The band is nowhere to be seen, save for a drummer and a bassist. The backup singers are in the shadows. It's really not about the music--dance is the showcase.

The most stunning part of the show is the final set of songs. The thin, long runway that bridges the main stage to the smaller platform out in the audience is revealed to be a conveyor belt. And that smaller platform reveals a shallow pool of water in which they dance clad in white and raise hell. Wet and alive, Beyonce slays "Freedom" and Destiny's Child's "Survivor."

After her performance at the Superbowl earlier this year, SNL aired a skit in which white people discover (much to their surprise) that Beyonce is black. It's funny because there is some truth behind it. There were more white people in the audience than I was expecting. New York is perhaps not a good representation of white America, but I have a hard time believing that middle America would enjoy DJ Khaled's hour long opening featuring a slew of names I was only vaguely familiar with. Each of them only rapped part of one song (none of which I knew) on a very small section of stage. I didn't think I was that out of touch with hip hop, but I was wrong. Make no mistake--this concert experience isn't about what fans want or are familiar with. It is about embracing the black experience. Lemonade represents a thematic evolution in Beyonce's music that reflects both our time and her ability to do whatever she wants. She is the Queen and she doesn't need to worry about what anyone else thinks.

PS. I thought I was much more familiar with Beyonce's music than I actually am. I think I recognized less than 50% of the songs she performed, many of which were just partial songs. Nonetheless, Beyonce's performance at Citi Field was a religious experience. Did Jay Z cheat? Maybe, but at the end of the day it doesn't matter. What matters is this story gave Beyonce a vehicle to project her strength as a black woman.