Antony Hegarty has an arresting voice—haunted; andro-gynous;
slightly lisping; able to flit from a low, resonant purr to a
weightless, trembling vibrato in one perfectly controlled breath.
With Antony and the Johnsons, Hegarty opens that voice and lets it rain
down over his own spare piano and his band’s adventurous orchestral
instrumentation—singing songs about life, death, and all the
confusions in between. Their latest album, The Crying Light,
is a compact and affecting symphony. Hegarty and company’s live
performances are just as stunning. (Moore Theatre, 1932 Second Ave,
467-5510. 8 pm, $27.50, all ages.)
Antony and the Johnsons
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I saw them last night.
It was beautiful. Really, really wonderful.
It was a fantastic show, and a great choice of venue.
And the dancer that opened the show was breathtaking.