Re. Patti's anger, etc.

["Alison Armstrong" <alikat>]

One of the many great things about Patti is that she doesn't present 
canned performances.  Seeing Patti is not like watching some big-name 
rock star whipping through hits trying to pleaase the audience/consumers. 
 Patti doesn't fake it.  Expecting Patti to act as if things aren't 
upsetting her (such as her mother's condition, the physical and emotional 
strain of giving her all every night, having to listen to stupid comments 
by disgusting jerks) is asking her to be phoney and give us only what she 
thinks we want to hear instead of expressing her true self.  Even though 
Patti is no doubt accustomed to people yelling garbage at her, she 
probably hopes that the audience will evolve, develop some insight.  It's 
not unreasonable of her to feel discouraged and frustrated that her 
message isn't being heard, that some people (like the obnoxious prick 
previously discussed) are still so dim-witted and shallow.  And of 
course, it's usually the egocentric morons who announce their presence so 
demandingly.
     In her performances Patti delves into the fearsome, shape-shifting 
aspects of divinity, communing with forces that, like the entities 
represented in Pre-columbian art, possess the mystic, making one writhe 
and transform.  On Friday Patti's capacity to channel these energies was 
particularly evident towards the end of the show in the midst of a 
Memento Mori/Not Fade Away/Who Do You Love fusion.  As she was bent over 
playing a harmonica, legs twitching spasmodically, one of the roadies, 
noting her microphone wasn't working, went on stage and attempted to 
substitute Patti's  mike with a replacement.  Patti wouldn't let go; she 
clenched the mike, convulsing as if in the throes of electrocution.  It 
terrified me.  This definitely wasn't just a performance; there's nothing 
I've ever witnessed that I can compare it to.
     Alison