Laura Marling performs at Sixth & I. Photo by Francis Chung.

Laura Marling performs at Sixth & I. Photo by Francis Chung.

Always an acoustically superb and visually striking place to see a show, the 800-seat Sixth & I Historic Synagogue felt like a more intimate venue than usual on Tuesday night as Laura Marling effortlessly engaged a rapt capacity crowd with her poignant songcraft and endearing stage presence. Focusing on songs from her most recent LPs — 2010’s I Speak Because I Can and 2011’s A Creature I Don’t Know — the 21-year-old product of London’s fertile folk scene showcased the rich, sonorous voice and dexterously creative acoustic guitar playing that places her at the forefront of the current crop of female singer-songwriters.

On the set-opening “Rambling Man”, Marling carried the first verse on her own before subtle cello notes cued in the five-piece band that backed her with understated skill on instruments including keyboards, upright bass, banjo, and drums. “Hope in the Air” followed a similar slow-building progression, the band smoldering behind Marling’s quivering vocals as she declaimed the song’s harrowing words: “No hope in the air, no hope in the water, not even for me, your life-serving daughter.”

Throughout the evening, Marling bantered affably to her audience, displaying a jovial personality that contrasted sharply with the often-heartrending emotional intensity of her songs. Laying to rest any notions that her lyrics are straightforwardly confessional, she cautioned before “Salinas” that the song evokes a California town she has never visited, adding that although a subsequent song would declare that “my husband left me last night,” she has in fact never been married and was therefore “okay.” Introducing “Goodbye, England (Covered in Snow)”, Marling remarked that “I never feel more English than when I’m in America,” before drawing laughs from the crowd with an anecdote about a late-night run to a D.C. pharmacy during which she met an unusually helpful homeless woman named Robin, to whom she encouraged fans to pass on her regards.

That song kicked off a stunning solo-acoustic interlude that was arguably the highpoint of the night. Marling’s apologies for the “self-indulgence” of playing an unreleased song proved entirely unnecessary as she unveiled a gorgeously lilting new ballad punctuated by cascading open-tuned guitar riffs. The crowd listened in absolute, attentive silence as Marling plucked the mournful, minor-key arpeggios of “Night After Night”, the plaintive beauty of her vocal melodies bringing the song’s bleak narrative into living color.

Marling’s newer material displayed a more individualistic touch and greater aesthetic diversity than older songs like “Alas I Cannot Swim” and “Ghost”, which seemed more firmly rooted in existing folk conventions. Her latest single, “Sophia”, culminated in a rousing country-rock groove, while the chorus of “I Was Just a Card” evinced a soulful, jazzy vibe. During the show-closing “All My Rage”, fans handclapped to the beat as Marling and her band joined voices on stirring, Appalachia-tinged vocal harmonies, capping the evening with an inspired flourish.