Discover divas

Jennifer Ward-Lealand and Ria Hall tell George Fenwick about reinvention and glamour in Here Lies Love.

“WHAT DRIVES a powerful person; what makes them tick? How do they make and then remake themselves?”

Those are the questions David Byrne asked in 2010 upon the release of Here Lies Love ,a 90-minute concept album he cocreated with Fatboy Slim. The disco-pop record — equal parts eccentric, glamorous and invigorating — was based on the life of Imelda Marcos, former first lady of the Philippines, and featured 22 guest vocalists including Florence Welch, Santigold, Tori Amos and the late Sharon Jones.

In short, it might seem like an unusual end-of-year show for Silo Theatre — but David Byrne’s attempt to marry pure, jubilant pop with themes of reinvention and identity make it a perfect fit.

“It was [musical director] Robin Kelly’s idea,” says artistic director Sophie Roberts. “I was talking to him about what he’d want to do in terms of giving him a show, and he was like, ‘Well, I’ve always wanted to do this weird concept album’.

“Listening to it, I could see that would be an amazing show. It’s quite a strange album, but a perfect end-of-year show. Really lush, exuberant, and celebrating all these female vocal artists.”

Silo’s line-up is a thrilling collection of Kiwi talents; Jennifer Ward-Lealand and Ria Hall will be joined by Villette, Colleen Davis and Sarah Nessia to sing the record — “as David Byrne wanted it, as he’d written it,” says Ward-Lealand.

“He’s always wanted people to be able to commit to more than one song on a theme,” she says. “How can you actually hold people’s attention for more than one song? Bring them along on a bigger journey?”

While Here Lies Love has been converted into a stage musical in the US and UK, Silo’s vision is much more of a party, performing the album in full as a live concert. The five singers — each bringing their own distinct voice and style to the work — will perform the 22 tracks in Q Theatre’s Rangatira space, which will be opened up with cabaret-style tables and chairs. The set will be doused in glitter; walls turned to disco-glam facades. “We’re going to turn Q into a nightclub basically,” says Roberts. “You don’t come along and sit quietly and politely. You can if you want, but we also want people to feel like they can get up and dance.”

Ward-Lealand agrees. “There are some real ballady things and some real poppy things,” she says. “I can feel myself wanting to dance when I listen to them, and that’s a good sign for me — that when I get up on the stage, that it’s going to be in my body, and feel free and bubbly.”

The rise and fall of a controversial politician might not seem like the kind of topic that pulls people on to a dance floor — but the stories hidden within these songs resonate beyond Marcos’ life. While they’re dressed as beguiling disco-pop songs, they tell a story about the journey of a powerful figure and the tension between our true selves and the version we present to the world.

“It’s a lot of talk about reinventing yourself,” says WardLealand. “Deleting the parts you don’t want to let people know about your life. And yet there are still voices from that part going, ‘Hello, remember me?’”

Hall says those themes are strengthened by the individuality in each singer. “It’s awesome that we’ve got women that are very different in who they are, but they’re very strong on who they are too,” she says. “They’re able to add their own characterisation into the lyrical content and the musical fabric.”

Assigning the songs to each singer was an organic process, says Roberts. “Everyone has a banger, everyone has more of a low-key, more delicate song, opportunities to duet on things,” she says. “It was about working with everyone’s strengths, but you’re also looking to create a flow in terms of the show as a whole.”

Operating as a whole is what Ward-Lealand craves most about the process — discovering how each voice blends together to create a sound that is more than the sum of its parts. “I love the discipline of that because it’s never about you in that situation,” she says. “You are all about making the one sound, where people will have to go, ‘Who’s singing what?’ I love that. I get goosebumps thinking of that.”

Those who know the performers by their primary disciplines — WardLealand as an actor, Hall as a musician — may be surprised to find them together in Here Lies Love. But both artists are used to adapting, particularly in New Zealand’s small creative industry.

“It’s really important as a creative to be able to open yourself up to other opportunities, and never silo yourself off,” says Hall. “Be open — that’s what I’ve always endeavoured to do, which is why I do so many collaborations with so many different styles of music and so many different artists, because that feeds my creativity too.”

“No performer wants to be static, ever,” says Ward-Lealand. “Just because I’ve been doing it a long time doesn’t mean that every new thing that I do isn’t a fabulous challenge.”

Both singers trust that Kiwis will be open to that versatility — and in the case of Here Lies Love, WardLealand hopes that crowds are dazzled by the experience.

“I would love [audiences] to go out just having a kick-ass night in the theatre,” she says. “I want them to go out with a smile on their face, dancing as they leave, and having pictures of the show cascading through their head for weeks to come.”