Jacquie Gouveia

It’s winter time again and in lieu of freezing in my unheated studio, my need for expressing myself is fulfilled via writing. The thoughts of this posting have been brewing in my mind for quite some time - as you shall read.

Last Spring the country, or even perhaps the world, was passionately and excitedly divided on who would become the next American Idol. The contestants, need I remind you, Kris Allen (I had to look up his last name) and Adam Lambert. Sometime during the last few weeks of the AI season I asked my sweet young niece who she wanted to win, Adam or Kris? As she often does, she gazed at me with her huge blue eyes and responded in a very serious, deep voice “Kris.” [she pauses] “Adam frightens me.” Naturally I laughed at both her answer and her delivery - thinking how sweet and cute she it. Arrogantly I thought how she’s not yet mature enough to appreciate Adam’s uniqueness and intensity. Over the next couple of days, however, her comment “Adam frightens me” replayed in my mind. I wasn’t sure why until out of the blue, it hit me; I had this same awkward feeling about David Bowie – and right around the same age.

On December 15, 1979, David Bowie performed “The Man Who Sold the World” on Saturday Night Live backed by Klaus Nomi and Joey Arias. While the nation was gearing up to celebrate Christmas and the season of ‘love, joy and good tidings’. David Bowie, dressed like a character out of “Alice in Wonderland’, was carried from the back of the stage to his microphone like a movie display poster board. The entire unnerving performance, music, design, movements and facial expressions reached far down into the sparse, dark, subway part of my subconscious - labeled “not ready to deal with” - and limp legged-ly dragged some odd emotions to the surface. Even 30 years later I can clearly remember the strange and uncomfortable “high fever dream” feeling that performance gave me. In high school girls would chime on about how sexy and gorgeous Bowie was. Just the mention of his name sent my vividly expressive imagination into overdrive.

Although I am no longer “frightened” by Bowie, have loved his music for a long time, seeing the SNL video of that bizarre performance unleashes those young “not ready to deal with” feelings. And I’m intrigued that my niece has had the same emotionally experience regarding Adam Lambert. As his career explodes over the coming decades, I wonder how my niece will feel about him later in life.

Watch the classic video: David Bowie SNL 1979