Opera Queensland | An Evening with Joseph Keckler
14 February | Opera Queensland Studio, South Bank QLD
Joseph Keckler has quite the reputation. Countless articles have been published about him in the New York Times and other tabloids reporting that he’s charismatic, a musical trickster, a tour de force with a classically trained and remarkable voice. Clearly, a versatile singer who seamlessly glides between musical genres. It was therefore difficult to know what to expect of his performance, the first on a national tour of Australia.
This was a psychological installation, a weird offering of vocal exhibitionism which defied musical boundaries. Inspired by David Bowie and Laurie Anderson, Keckler’s wild, kooky storytelling reflected bizarre fantasies springing from an unusual imagination. His presentation was spiced with spectres, a hologram of a frog, spooks and shadows during which the visual meshed with sound through filmic sequences. These were mostly of Keckler projected onto a screen, to which he sang and harmonised. The set up was complex. Three mics, a shiny grand piano, a large video screen and a loop pedal were all part of the consistently and precisely orchestrated technology.
Those expecting a simple series of songs representing a mix of genres based on the publicity about his poly-stylistic focus were instantly challenged. When Keckler sang, whispered and recited his dialogues (nearly all original material) there was initially a mix of surprise and bewilderment on the faces of those in attendance, illuminated by the faux candles on cabaret styled tables. This was certainly the case in the first supernatural themed offering when, ‘I had sex with a ghost’ flashed on screen.
In a performance of just 75-minutes, he transported an increasingly absorbed audience into a dark yet irresistible existential void, a cosmopolitan New York ambience of humour, threat and menace. His playlist consists of dramatic capsules involving sung and spoken word, video and theatrical oratory, mostly original but standouts were ‘Call’ co-written with Malena Cadiz and the Hawkins/Slotkin standard ‘I Put a Spell On You.’
Absurdist lyrics were intoned through Keckler’s extraordinary voice, an instrument of vast range and infinitely shifting colour. From the deepest bass baritone trawling the depth of the ocean to a reedy falsetto, spliced with arguably an overused theremin-like-shimmer, he explored recitative, adopted a Schubertian mantel, channelled Lou Reed and then towards the end of the show communicated an easeful, lighter textured tone and vocal register when he romped through ‘I Put a Spell On You’, underscoring his singing with vividly tailored figurations on the piano.
Keckler commands a madcap, wild, absurdist storytelling armoury. He’s confronting, compelling and provocative. There’s a teasing menace and more than a dose of paranoia, for instance in ‘Strangers from the Internet’ in which a weird cluster of predatory beings clamour for Keckler through glass walls. He explored every nook and cranny of his vocal prowess moving between variably shaded sung and spoken tone. He also uses mimicry as a tool in an ironic and authentic parody of several different yet stressed orchestral librarians leaving frantic messages on an answer machine in their desperation to hire replacement orchestral parts.
Ultimately the audience appreciated Keckler’s bizarre soliloquy, lured by his abrupt shifts in focus and an alluring vulnerability. This bold, adventurous show is something different, very much a must-see because it is mesmerising, perplexing, entertaining, emotive and utterly unforgettable.
Photo Credit: Murray Summerville
