Music

‘Smacks of equal parts homage and hubris…’ ‘A homage or ego trip, kicky bravery or folly…?’ ‘Breathtaking in its chutzpah: a homage and a provocation…’ ‘A stunt, pure heresy…’ ‘An embarrassment or a triumph…?’ ‘Talk about setting yourself up for a fall…’ ‘Rufus Wainwright covering Judy Garland? About as gay as it gets.’ Feature continues

When Rufus Wainwright announced he was planning to recreate Judy Garland’s seminal 1961 Carnegie Hall show last summer – song for song, in the same venue, with an identical 40-piece backing orchestra – the critical reaction was a predictable mix of disbelief and dismissal. Who did this singer-songwriter think he was, attempting to mimic one of the most famous shows in musical history by one of the most talented voices ever to grace the stage? The two dates sold out regardless, and the reviews were overwhelmingly – if begrudgingly – in Wainwright’s favour. He pulled it off, and now he’s bringing the show to the London Palladium. It’s a move that makes perfect sense; after all, the West End theatre was a second home to Judy herself.

Audacious? Well, obviously. But not for Rufus Wainwright the role of meek wallflower. The 33-year-old son of Loudon Wainwright and Kate McGarrigle, themselves folk royalty, has been likened to a modern-day Bob Dylan and enjoyed cult success and critical acclaim since the release of his self-titled debut in 1998 and its follow-up, ‘Poses’, in 2001. While not as overtly camp as, say, Scissor Sisters, he has always refused to hide his sexuality, and has been equally candid about his past addiction to crack.

It’s a blustery Sunday morning when we meet in the warren-like backstage rooms of the Palladium in Soho, which are kitted out with surreal ‘Sound Of Music’ props: a nun’s habit here, a pair of lederhosen there. Wainwright is currently in town to put the finishing touches to his latest album and the first he has produced (Pet Shop Boys’ Neil Tennant is sitting in as executive producer). Photographers, assistants and agents bustle through the rooms setting up the impending shoot when a door opens. Bang on time, Wainwright looks as though he’s only just woken up as he gratefully takes a cup of tea. ‘It’s blowing a Dorothy gale out there…’