There’s something quite beautiful, eerie and in many ways frightening about the primal power a voice in song can have over the mind and soul. It’s when this voice transcends the threshold of beauty that the individual suffers; not in pain but in deep contemplative awe. How can something be this beautiful? Like the spell Geoffrey Gurrumul Yunupingu is said to cast over his audiences; Antony Hegarty of Antony and the Johnsons is the Hogwarts master and The Perth Concert Hall is deep under his magical charm.

A happy crowd pours into the beautiful chambers of the concert hall; stunningly decorated and lit with a handsome painted tapestry and suspended kite sculpture above the stage; designed by a touring artist. The striking voice of Hegarty is the underlying reason for the full house which is buzzing in anticipation. Lights dim and supporting guest, ambient composer, William Basinski enters the stage to sink the room into a dark corner of hell. A very entrancing, progressive performance-art piece gets underway. The disturbing masked figure of Johanna Constantine, splashed in paint and almost bare, prowls the stage in demonic animal rhythms. For some, this was another kind of hell and restlessness stirred a portion of the crowd. The piece went over more than a few heads; the dark monotonous tones and amazing choreography were regrettably disturbed by premature applause and awkward laughter as the performance came to a close. With the right crowd and a smaller specific space; this would merit an encore performance at the festival.

After a short fifteen minute interlude, The West Australian Symphony Orchestra tuned up, as conductor Rob Moose entered the stage to loud applause which was drowned out an instant later by Antony’s own entrance. Hegarty brings intrigue and mystery with his appearance; as unconventional as his singing. His is a transgendered boyish face with a dark mop of hair half covering his eyes; He is draped in a middle aged shawl looking humble, reserved and full of thoughts. With nothing more than a brief nod to the crowd, he sits down at a grand piano and his husky jazzy vibrato effortlessly floats around the hall stealing the eyes of every single person. Rocking back and forth, to and from the microphone, Hegarty projects his voice, weaving in heart thumping falsettos, creating light and shade in envy of the orchestra who are so beautifully accompanying him. From mystery and intrigue he becomes open and vulnerable. His almost weeping voice tells tales of love and life as a child; lost between two genders through a haunting innocent monologue which easily touches the hearts and souls of everyone in the audience. Between songs, his banter is humble and minimal but the subtle noises of digestion heard throughout the crowd say so much more. Including material from all three albums The Crying Light, I’m a Bird Now and his self titled debut, a sadness creeps over the room. This is someone whose life has been robbed by confusion and restraint.

Sensing the effect he is having on his audience, Hegarty suddenly turns and launches into a surprisingly warm stream of consciousness. His humorous and friendly camp ramblings range from his undying trust in David Attenborough to his intellectual bitterness for a Christian upbringing. His conversations are real and unrehearsed; on occasion he struggles for words as he literally speaks his mind. This is how most of Hegarty’s music plays out as well; an almost childish poetic rambling. You get the sense of listening to someone who was never given a chance to grow up properly and spite of this, has grown old with wisdom.

A still deeper level of connection comes when Hegarty is replaced at the piano by a WASO member as he confronts a new level of exposure; standing uncertainly in front of a bare microphone. A beautiful, slow rendition of Beyonce’s Crazy in Love is a true testament to his musicianship as an arranger (as well as vocalist) having closely scored the performance with friend and colleague Nico Muhly. Vulnerable behind the open microphone Hegarty moves his arms passionately in motion to his very honest vocals.

After encore demanding applause, Antony returns to the stage one more time to perform a jokingly self proclaimed classic off his debut called River of Sorrow. He explains touchingly that it’s about an idol of his who was in the transgender movement. Whilst performing he wipes away what looks like a slight tear, something the audience has been doing all night, and for the last time in the evening gestures thanks to the amazing musicianship of WASO, leaving the stage to more loud applause from the many people moved so deeply by the journey the he has taken them on.