If you’re a fan of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, like me, you might have often wondered what intergalactic superstar Disaster Area would actually sound like.
Well I believe I may have recently witnessed a scaled down Earthbound approximation of that almighty noise.
It’s called Diamanda Galas. A New Yorker of Greek extraction, she performed on the opening night of Brighton Festival at the Dome Theatre.
I’d been aware of this Diva since the eighties when she became notorious for her oratorio on the subject of HIV/AIDS. I have acquired a couple of her albums along the way, so considered I was pretty well in the know as to what one of her concerts might be like. Judging by the number of people walking out of the Dome during her performance it was quite clear that many in the audience were not in receipt of this useful knowledge.
The support act – a friendly improvisational cellist by the name of Erik Friedlander, also hailing from the Big Apple – provided a perfect foil for Diamanda’s more impersonable performance later in the evening. Billed as a friend and collaborator of the likes of John Zorn, one might have expected Erik to be pretty wild, but he turned out to be not so.
Although some of the pieces he played were a little unconventional especially for the cello. Many were typically American – very pastoral, describing big skies, stunning landscapes and small town life. He backed these up with reminiscences of travelling the country as a child in a mobile home in the company of his sister and parents; this had clearly informed his world-view particularly when the outlook of his somewhat eccentric father is taken into account.
Erik’s performance was exquisitely entertaining and seemed to please all present but it in no way prepared us for what was to follow.
The stage starts in almost total darkness apart from a bit of backlighting illuminating gushing chimneys of atmospheric smoke. The shadowy figure of Diamanda glides on in long black gown, a train fanning out behind. She appears as a rather ageing version of Morticia Addams as she sits down at her monstrous grand piano and starts thundering away at the bottom end, then launches into the wailing, groaning, screeching, gargling, yodelling and moaning dirges that make up her latest work which is entitled Songs of Exile.
The performance is life-changing to say the least and as I’ve previously indicated, there were many present who had no desire to alter their lives in that particular direction. Those who were of my persuasion, though, were quite enthralled by Ms Galas and would have fallen at her feet to worship had they been given the chance. Although the staging was mainly fairly minimal and in darkness, spot lighting was employed to good dramatic effect throughout [for which we were thankful, after a poor start in that department during Friedlander’s act – when he was once or twice illuminated in quite inappropriate colours!].
The Songs of Exile set is concluded and our heroine glides off as mysteriously as she arrived, not having spoken a word outside of song. The remaining audience, not at all satisfied – but only because even too much Diamanda will never be enough – stomp and shout and eventually she returns to perform something from the back catalogue. Then the ritual is repeated and this time after what seems even longer than before she reappears and launches into Johnny Cash’s grim gallows tale – Twenty-Five Minutes To Go. It is SUBLIME to say the least and brings the evening to a ‘swinging’ end. There’s nothing more to be said. We’re stunned, unsatiated but floored by what we’ve seen and heard. The Goddess has gone. Will she ever return?
I patiently await The Second Coming in Hope and Anticipation.
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