After years of Cuban domination of the Latin music scene, Brazilian music is back in fashion: Bebel Gilberto is a superstar, the superb Joyce is playing at Glastonbury, and the glamorous young Cibelle is poised to become a celebrity. Clearly, the time is right for Celso Fonseca to make his international solo debut. He is not exactly a newcomer - it is over two decades since he started working as a guitarist for Gilberto Gil - but he has a new solo album, Natural, his first to be released internationally, and he is included in the Nu Brazil compilation of "fresh sounds from today's Brazil". And why not? He is a fine guitarist, producer, singer and songwriter, and he certainly doesn't look his age.
In fact, he is a keystone of the Brazilian music scene, having worked with almost all the stars, past and present. After starting out with Gil (now Brazil's minister of culture), he played with the likes of Caetano Veloso, Gal Costa and Milton Nascimento, then newcomers like Bebel Gilberto. This was his first UK solo show, and, within the strict limits that he sets himself, it was a cool, low-key triumph.
Others may go for brass, big bands and backing singers, but Fonseca prefers the minimalist approach. Still a boyish-looking figure in his slacks and sandals, he was backed merely by his own lightly amplified acoustic guitar and drums, keyboards and bass. He slipped into the light, slinky A Origem da Felicidade, with his delicate, sad-edged voice only just surviving against the restrained backing, and the mood was set. This was his updated treatment of bossa nova, the music of his native Rio de Janeiro back in the early 1960s, but played, for the most part, without a hint of irony or kitsch. The band sounded as if they wanted to stretch out more, but Fonseca maintained the intimate, hot summer mood with songs like Meu Samba Torto. He changed the tempo only for his tribute to Baden Powell ("the greatest Brazilian guitarist"): a treatment of Consolacao, an instrumental piece that showed off his complex, rhythmic guitar work.
In the second set he proved that he could maintain the mood of gentle, exquisite melancholy while singing in English, with The Night We Called It a Day - though his own Slow Motion Bossa Nova teetered towards Brazilian music cliche with its reference to The Girl from Ipanema. Then, switching quickly from the 1960s to contemporary Brazil, he brought on Cibelle herself, who proved that she really does have a voice to match her looks (and those ripped jeans), as they revived the Antonio Carlos Jobim favourite She's A Carioca.
Fonseca may not have the power, or range, to play a large concert hall, but in an intimate setting like this, he was magnificent.
· Until Thursday. Box office: 020-7439 8722.
