VENUSZINE.COM
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http://www.venuszine.com/stories/music_reviews/1434
Diamanda Galas at Pace University (Sept. 12, 2005)
Diamanda Galas takes to the road, performing works from Defixiones, Will
and Testament: Orders from the Dead
by Melissa Silvestri
Have you heard of Diamanda Galas? You mean you don’t know of the
avant-garde Greek-American performance artist with a four-octave range
who has been celebrated worldwide for 25 years?
Just five years ago I had never heard of her either, until I was
introduced to her at the age of 17 through Angry Women (Juno Books),
Andrea Juno’s 1991 collection of interviews with wild and controversial
female writers. She was insightful and had a razor-sharp wit, advocating
the need for a bullshit-free society, rapists to be castrated, teaching
women to learn how to use guns to kill, and expressing the rage and
anger of the Armenian and Greek genocides from 1915 to 1923. Just
reading the words made me feel her electric-sharp voice, leaving me
excited and spirited to learn more about her work and her interests in
William S. Burroughs, Baudelaire, and Maria Callas.
Galas has been performing all over the world since her debut at the
Festival d'Avignon in France in 1979, where she performed the lead in
the opera Un Jour Comme un Autre, by composer Vinko Globokar, which is
based upon the Amnesty International documentation of the arrest and
torture of a Turkish woman for alleged treason. Her works include Plague
Mass, which raises the spirit of those with AIDS who do not want to be
labeled as victims, Vena Cava, which focuses on clinical depression, and
Malediction & Prayer.
Galas recently performed at Pace University in NYC, debuting the
American unveiling of her show, Defixiones, Will and Testament: Orders
from the Dead, on September 10. The audience was completely packed in
the large, balconied auditorium. There was an array of people there:
young and old couples, college kids, and solo members. I didn’t think
Galas, with her witchy proto-Goth look and performance-art theatrics,
would attract such a wide variety. Then I remembered that she had been
featured on the cover of The Village Voice the previous week, and
assumed that she had gotten more exposure and coverage that way.
The show began with an empty stage, save for a piano and two
microphones. A solo violin played from a recording, echoing the opening
of The Rolling Stones’ Paint It Black. A hissing voice from backstage
spoke of the inevitability of death and remembering the ones who came
before us, from The Graves of Our Ancestors, by Yiannis Ritsos. The
audience sat in the dark, hearing this crackly, warbled voice get under
our skin via a deep and penetrating sound system, awaiting the entrance
of the grand Diamanda.
Galas entered, draped in a long dark veil and black dress symbolizing
the generations of Greek widows who did not accept death silently and
wore it like a badge throughout their lives. Galas barely made a sound
as she walked to the microphone, opened her wide mouth, and began to
chant a piece entitled Ter Vogormia, by Marar Yekmalian. I could feel
the intensity of Galas’ operatic range, as well as the somberness and
strength as she cackled and howled and sang in Greek -- a language most
likely unfamiliar to those without Greek ancestry or knowledge of Greek
history. Galas said that most people think of Greek history as only
being in the time of Socrates, Aristotle, Alexander, and anything nearly
1000 years ago. Greeks are still treated like ethnic others in this
country, or relegated to certain sections of a city designated as
“their” area (like Astoria, Queens).
Galas is an intriguing performer to watch. Not only is her voice
otherworldly and trained like a muscle, but is a mysterious, deeply
intelligent, and incredibly striking woman. Her cheekbones are shadowed
by the light, her petite shape is hidden beneath her veil and dress, and
she comes off as one who does not belong to one place (besides Greece),
but is a citizen of the world, and somebody who has been in all walks of
life. I’m quite fascinated by her stories and her barbed wit, though I
would probably be quite intimidated by her in real life -- as would many
others.
A particular piece that stood out was her performance of El Baile (The
Dance), by Siamanto. It was written in Spanish in the program but, when
translated, described a deeply detailed account of brides being burned
alive, dancing and dancing while they are being burned and sacrificed.
Galas added to this text by resembling a Mexican witch, holding two
microphones in the air like torches, making a horrific cackling sound
with her tongue, and being illuminated by her shadow through lighting
effects that gave the room a very spooky and macabre ambiance.
Galas is an important figure in the world of performance art, no doubt.
But when one reads her interviews, her words are mesmerizing. You image
her eyes becoming electric and her fingers moving quickly with the power
of exchanging stories about past histories and the need to stop
pussy-footing around issues and past events and to face it head-on, with
few inhibitions. She is a woman who has lived an incredibly fascinating
life, and I felt very lucky to be able to see her live, as did the rest
of the audience; they gave her a standing ovation and had the look of
being blown away and shocked by her collection of pieces.