Provocateur and vocal acrobat Diamanda Galas executed two different, and minimally overlapping performances Thursday and Saturday at The Museum of Contemporary Art. Her history of subject matter, and even her extreme vocal style, are not for the weak hearted or meek, but rather the adventurous and open minded listener. Perhaps it is an acquired taste? Imagine if you can a gothic Yma Sumac. She wails, shrieks, and produces guttural moans with such reckless abandon it can be shocking, and , often spiritual. Make no mistake-- behind the admittedly spooky image lies a well trained artist. No vocal chords could take the amount of battering and shredding she seems to induce for over twenty years without serious commitment to technique. Her piano playing is no less personally styled; it sounds like rumbling showers crescendo into a violent storm causing the earth itself to crumble around her opening a portal to hell itself.

The shows were as subtle as the entrails of a corpse smeared with reckless abandon upon a plate of sprinkled smily faced cupcakes, but then she is known for her intensity. There were moments when the audience gasped, chuckled uncomfortably, and gaped in awe. She conveyed longing and sorrow in a powerful way. Scattered and brief crinkling candy wrappers and hushed chit chat were quickly dispensed of by dagger stares from an otherwise enraptured audience. How often does that happen at a concert?

The venue is an absolutely charming and intimate place in which to see a musician. Hopefully there will be many more concerts there in the future, rather than this being merely an extension of the museum's current rock and roll exhibition. The stark black stage and smoke slithering across various gels silhouetting her added an air of mystery and loneliness to her mournful songs. While she was "in voice" and emoting visually, the first program suffered in one important area. The presentation was written about, and, for artists in exile and was mostly non- English. While this is not a problem for most operas, they also generally have the option for the listener to read the translated lyrics projected above the stage, or at least a pamphlet explaining the libretto. While certainly entertaining and worthwhile, one couldn't help but feel a bit cheated. Ms. Galas' otherwise entrancing program suffered due to it's lack of context. It is difficult to truly empathize with her and her subject's plight and longing when one is not certain of whom she sings or why they were exiled from their beloved and familiar homelands. Hopefully next year's cd booklet accompanying the release will rectify that matter.

- Noreen Sobczyk