Watch House captivates The Palace
On Saturday, June 14, americana duo Watchhouse played at The Palace Theatre in St. Paul, with support from the duo Two Runner. The concert offered a stirring and soulful evening of Americana music.
The evening began with Two Runner, a newer americana duo whose energy and warmth immediately caught my attention. With a stripped-down setup of banjo, guitar, and strong vocal harmonies, they opened the night with a blend of traditional folk and powerful songwriting. The pair’s joy to be on stage was glowing — smiling between every verse and often exchanging gleeful glances and stories about their songs. The crowd quickly warmed to their enthusiasm. Their set included songs that felt both grounded and wide-eyed, steeped in landscapes of open roads, longings, and small-town reflections. For a relatively new act, Two Runner held their own with impressive grace and musicality.
After a brief intermission, Watchhouse took the stage to quiet applause and settled into their set with unassuming confidence. Formerly known as Mandolin Orange, the North Carolina-based duo—married couple Emily Frantz and Andrew Marlin —have spent the past decade crafting music that favors subtlety over shining spectacle. Last night was no exception. Their sound was lush yet intimate, leaning heavily on gentle acoustic textures, rich harmonies, and lyrics that ponder the quiet corners of life.
The setlist included a mix of newer material from their latest album “Rituals” as well as older fan favorites. Songs like “Echos” and “Old Ties and Companions” were delivered with a clarity and emotional depth and you could tell they were songs the duo has played live countless times. Frantz’s fiddle playing danced lightly over Marlin’s steady mandolin and guitar work, creating a musical blend that was equal parts melancholic and hopeful.
Perhaps the most striking moment of the evening came when Marlin gently asked the crowd to observe a moment of silence. “So many people are losing are losing their lives,” said Marlin. He didn’t elaborate further, but the request was offered with such sincerity that the audience fell quiet almost instantly. In that pause, the room seemed to collectively hold its breath—a rare, shared stillness that underscored the intimacy of the performance.
Watchhouse’s ability to create that kind of space—emotional and literal—is a testament to their skill as performers. Their songs don’t demand attention so much as invite reflection. Between tracks, their stage banter was minimal, letting the music do most of the talking. And yet, the connection with the audience was unmistakable. It wasn’t about big choruses or flashy solos, but about presence, nuance, and quiet power.
By the time the final notes faded into the night, the audience stood in place for a beat longer than usual, perhaps reluctant to break the spell. It was a night that reminded me of the depth and resonance that acoustic music can carry when delivered with honesty and care.
In a world often cluttered with noise, Watchhouse offered something rare: an evening of music that felt truly human.
