Church Chat (new review of M. Lamar)
It's been a while since I plugged the rather extraordinary
Greenpoint Reformed Church,
where I play and lead a choir most Sunday morns. But this past weekend
merits a special mention: We had as our guest the remarkable
countertenor (Reginald)
M Lamar,
who performed the offertory, sitting at the piano and stretching one
remarkable chorus of "Sometimes I feel like a motherless child" over a
timeless few minutes in his inimitable, powerful yet intimate soprano,
striking a few notes that were beyond blue. It was awe-inspiring, as
was his postlude, a gospel song I didn't recognize which memorably
joined lynching and crucifixion imagery. I don't think I'll ever look
at our church's modest cross the same way again.
Chatting with Reginald after the service, I told him I'd seen him in Justin Bond's
Lustre at PS 122 (
reviewed
the show, actually), and he told me about his next effort: a limited
run at Long Island City's Chocolate Factory of his solo show
The Black Death,
billed as a song cycle "exploring the bonds of pornography,
colonialism, and capitalism," tracing "landscapes of longing caused by
extreme dehumanization." It's at 8 p.m., July 16-18, offered as part of
the
Ferocious Spectacular series at the Chocolate Factory. As no less a personage than Diamanda Galas has said of Lamar: “This bitch can sing."
Amen to that.
From The Wicked Stage by Rob Weinert-Kendt