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Review: RITUAL: A Benefit for the World Trade Center Victims
by Kevin Filan (starvox.net)
September 15, 2001

Performances by: Velocity Chyaldd, Gabrielle Penabaz, Voltaire, La Nouvelle Justine - New York, New York

Starvox: A man wearing go-go boots, a corset, and nipple rings belts out an operatic version of "The Star-Spangled Banner." This is what America is all about -- 150 freaks, Goths, glambois, trannies, vampyres, fetishists, cyberpunks, and miscellani coming together to support a good cause. The National Anthem ends and we bow our heads in silence, punctuated by sobbing.

We're a little over 2 miles from Ground Zero; outside you can see the smoke filling the empty patch of sky which used to be the World Trade Center. Many of us were in Lower Manhattan on Tuesday morning. I was on the #4 train when the first wave of shaking, crying passengers boarded; my girlfriend Kathy saw the towers collapse as she was evacuated across the Brooklyn Bridge. Kathy's in New Jersey this weekend; I wasn't going to come, but I didn't want to be alone tonight. Earlier Velocity Chyaldd performed "Aftermath," a song she wrote in 1997. "Though I stand burning on the bridge I will not jump," she sang, scarred and defiant as the city itself. I've wanted to see Velocity's band, Vulgaras, for some time. Velocity has achieved some fame as a performance artist; I wanted to see how her obvious stage presence translated to a rock and roll stage. After tonight's performance, I can see it translates well: she has a solid voice and a gift for an intelligent turn of phrase. I make a note to myself to see Vulgaras at the earliest possible opportunity. You never know which day will be your last.

Gabrielle Penabaz, the creative force behind St. Eve, is another yet New York performer with charisma to spare. She's been seen in costumes that would do Peter Gabriel proud: tonight she's wearing a simple long black dress. Kerry Smith tunes his acoustic guitar and Macadam sets up his keyboard as Gabrielle apologizes for being unprepared. It's a graceful gesture, but hardly necessary; this week everybody is unprepared.

The set begins with a cover of Radiohead's "You and Whose Army?" "So you thought you could take me on," Gabrielle asks, half-purring and half-growling as she slinks across La Nouvelle Justine's miniscule stage. St. Eve's music always has a harsh, angry edge beneath the beauty.

"Come on if you think you can take us on!" Gabrielle spits out and it becomes an anthem, a focal point for all our simmering rage. Behind her a large Osama Bin Laden caricature is almost obscured by American flags. PIN THE FLAG ON OSAMA BIN LADEN, explains the sign beside the St. Andrew's Cross, YOU MISS AND YOU GET SPANKED! FLAGS $1.00 ALL PROCEEDS BENEFIT THE AMERICAN RED CROSS. "Come on! Come on!" It's a great performance, one of the best I've seen from Gabrielle, sexy and angry and menacing as the number which follows, "One Day." I'd like to see her in an intimate setting like this again, especially with her entire band.

As Gabrielle leaves the stage I spot an old friend of mine, a pro domme. More than half her clients worked in the WTC. She has no idea how she's going to pay her rent now. I buy two roses from a passing vendor and give them to her, just because I can still buy flowers for pretty ladies.

"I've been trying to get drunk since Tuesday," Voltaire explains as he straps on his guitar. "Tonight I've succeeded." It's the kind of mordant humor we've come to treasure from Voltaire, and at this moment it's sorely needed. The crowd's laughter seems high-pitched, almost hysterical. Or maybe I'm just jumpy.

"God Thinks" starts things off with Voltaire's tribute to fundamentalists of all stripes. It's funny and apropos. Yet, while I agree that "God prefers an atheist" to a murderous true believer, I still found the song somehow unsatisfying. If we're going to blame God for every crime against humanity committed in Hir name, maybe we should give a nod to those people who lend a helping hand in Hir name too. I can't blame Voltaire for this one though. The song was written in a simpler time, and aimed at a far less malevolent target.

"As you might have guessed, I'm not going to be doing 'When You're Evil,' tonight... " Voltaire mumbles, almost apologetically, before going into a story about how he was able to view the disaster from his East Village apartment. His eyes are hollow and his voice rough as he speaks of office workers falling from windows, of bodies strewn on the street, of glass mountains burning and crumbling to the ground. He stops in midsentence, then takes another drink and begins "Feathery Wings."

Voltaire's act is all about pretense and persona; nobody really thinks he wants you to kill the man upstairs, or that he enjoys stealing candy from babies. This is Voltaire unguarded, something I've never seen before. There's no ironic smirk here, just anguish as he sings "I'm so sick and tired of the taste of tears, the sting of pain, the smell of fear, the sounds of crying" as the guitar swirls behind him slow and beautiful as a 90-floor freefall. As the song comes to an end I realize I'm crying for the first time since Tuesday.

The song ends. Voltaire expresses support for the Muslim owners of the restaurant across the street. The crowd cheers loudly. When this happened I was afraid there would be Arab-American blood in the streets. There have been some ugly incidents -- and one incident is too many -- but many more Americans have spoken out against anti-Arab bigotry and intolerance. Perhaps we have learned something from history after all, I think, as Voltaire begins "Let it Go."

Voltaire has a false start, then another, as he struggles with tuning problems, or maybe he's just trying not to cry. As the third time proves the charm he sings once again with real feeling, real passion. This is not the old Voltaire: the phrasing is less precise and the playing sloppier, but in its place is raw emotion, more blues than Brecht or Weil. As he tells us to let go of the hate I realize I'm crying again, realize for the first time in my life I'm proud to be American, realize that nothing is ever going to be the same again.

(photos of Vulgaras and St. Eve courtesy of their websites, Voltaire by Blu at DragonCon 2000)

Kevin Filan: 1, Kevin Filan: 2, La Nouvelle Justine Homepage
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