Pride's Got Talent 2023: A Kaleidoscope of LGBTQ+ Brilliance

 
Photo credit: carol j moir

With the grandeur of the Adelphi Theatre as the backdrop, the ten finalists - made up of five extraordinary music acts and five captivating cabaret performers - took to the stage to show what they had to offer. Guiding the evening was none other than the London cabaret icon, Michael Twaits, bedecked in an 11/10 yellow dress with a waterfall of red hair. Michael is cheeky, charming and audacious all at once. Alexa Vox, the reigning cabaret category champion from last year appeared as a guest act, with a performance showing us mere mortals exactly how it’s done. 

The finalists really did themselves proud. Here’s a little breakdown to help you envision the whole thing. 

With hair aflame, Natalie Gray took the crowd by storm with a poignant exploration of domestic abuse. Her voice was a complete conduit of emotion, resonating with raw authenticity as flames danced in the background. Her plea for change united the room, as her voice vibrated with the lines, “You pull me and push me. You love me, you beat me, you tie me in chains.” Her second number is a complete change of tone, echoing the style of Madonna who she admits listening to “way too much.” She interrupts her own song to say, “Thank you London. Hate will never win” before bursting back into the melody. 

Draped in black high-waisted trousers and glistening silver accents, Aaron Sibley emerged as a dreamweaver of sorts, spinning melodies in a way that captured the imaginations of the audience. His voice flows with the kind of grace that is inextricably linked to vulnerability. Against a backdrop of piano keys, his lyrics felt poetic, evoking the essence of his own dreams and personal growth: “I never thought I was lost until I found my way.” His second song, ‘Pressure’ is a shift; the disco ballad builds with every line as scenes of an opening galaxy appear on the screens behind him. As the symphony accumulates he is no longer stationary and begins to not only walk the stage, but own it. 

Jenny Scoones enters the stage and introduces her first song by saying, “This is something I wrote when I realised I wasn’t gonna get gender reassignment surgery, because it turns out I like having a dick.” The crowd cheers in recognition of her genuinity and respect for her candour. She’s wearing a blue dress with sparkly heels and shows a tangible emotional complexity. The line, “I tell myself I am a woman, and a beautiful one. Beautiful women, we all dream the same, we all love in the dark and kiss in the rain” was enough to have you welling up in your seat. Her second piece is about “what happens when you fall in love with a twink” - but it’s way more than that too. When she sings the line, “You can’t break me” it becomes a battle cry of sorts, and the crowd can't help but scream in support. 

With an aura reminiscent of a disco deity, Jobie unleashed the kind of energy that enamoured an entire theatre. His entrance was intentionally silent - leading to an accentuated impact of the performance that felt like an explosion of pure ‘self’. “I write these songs in my bedroom, so to do this here is insane” he said. Clad in a gold suit, adorned with lace and sequins, Jobie's voice cascaded - as if it were confetti. You could see how liberated he felt on that stage. The second track is a ballad about picking yourself back up after hitting rock bottom. He faces away from the crowd to gather his nerve. It begins softly with the lyrics, “Bitter days return to grey, the only company is misery, smiling away.” Then loudly, he steps out from behind the mic, and belts: “I’m whole, not broken, because I know a strength that lies beneath”. His arms spread out to the side, like an eagle ready for flight. But it was Jobie’s presence that resonated most - with his disco-infused style quite literally turning the theatre into a pulsing dance floor. 

Andrea Di Giovanni’s music was a dedication to the trans community. Clothed in a shining blue two-piece ensemble, she began weaving raw emotion into a poignant tapestry of sound. Against a backdrop of black and white imagery and sweeping visuals, she unravelled tales of forbidden love and unyielding spirit, inviting the audience to explore the complex layers of the human experience. There is a swooping montage of images floating behind her; images of people, rising together, and finally, the stonewall sign. The lyrics pound, “We don’t know who we can trust, so where do we go? Nobody knows.” The whole experience becomes an anthem - as if it's saying, “we don’t know, but we are going to march forward if it's the last thing we do.” It feels so determined. It is dancing in the face of the bullshit; it’s about taking back the power that has been stolen so many times before. 

Entering with ballet-dancer-grace, Faye Wildfyre left the audience enchanted by her almost ethereal presence. It was as if  watching a real life fairy was draped in layers of see-through fabric topped with a flowering of long, flowing curls. It sounds ridiculous, but she genuinely exuded an otherworldly aura. As Irish Celtic folk melodies swelled through the air, she transported the audience from a place of entertainment to a realm of something enchanting; blurring the lines between reality and fantasy. One judge said, “I have seen a million burlesque acts and what I found refreshing about you is that you just came on and wanted to give love and give peace. I have never seen anything like this.” That wraps it up completely. 

“Hi, I’m Mala, and tonight I’m going to do a piece that I wrote about my observations as a trans woman”. With a profound spoken word piece, Mala’s words flowed with an emotional intensity that left an indelible mark. Projected against a backdrop of Stonewall signs and imagery, she delivered a message of unity and unwavering love. “The theme for pride this year is ‘never march alone’. I may be terminally single but I am blessed that I never march alone”. I saw two women in the row in front of me wrap their arms around one another, and when Iooked farther, I saw so many others in the crowd doing the very same thing. Mala held the entire room in what felt like a never-ending hug. I wanted to go and thank her.

Jordan Charles used words as a vehicle for change. A clip played at the beginning, of a woman speaking about the loss of her son. Referring to words the church spewed, the mother said, “If I had just listened to my son when he poured his heart out to me, I wouldn’t be stood here filled with regret. Before you echo ‘amen’ in your home or place of worship, remember a child is listening.” Wow. You could have heard a pin drop. Jordan is wearing an orange two piece with matching cat eyes. There’s orange light on the walls. He confesses that two years ago he almost died after Covid and diabetes, following with, “I wasn't planning to say this.” After so much pain, he was ready to go. He screams, “But GOD DAMMIT LONDON!! I’m so glad I’m here!!!” His whole performance was not only about self-discovery, but a permission slip for every LGBTQ+ person to feel free. Their performance delved into the complexities of LGBTQ+ identity and personal narrative. It felt like someone was capturing, in real time, Pride’s transformative spirit.

Moira bursts onto the stage to the disco version of Whitney Hustons’ ‘How Will I Know’. The entire audience is up on their feet dancing with hands clapping above their heads. She’s in a black dress with green satin sides and a huge, voluminous, red wig. She’s hitting the high notes with a vengeance completely in character; it sounds like lip-sync because the vocals are so unbelievable, but it’s very much real life. There are shouts for participation that people cannot wait to give. I’m seeing crowd members grooving as if their life depends on it - the energy is impossible to ignore. When we are told that singing along is not compulsory, but it will be considered a hate-crime if you don’t - the crowd erupts into laughter. 

Sweet FA comes out with short hair, wearing trousers and a jacket, with a glittered black backdrop. “I’m here on behalf of the catholic church”. They dismantled conventions with a bewitching fusion of stand-up comedy, strip-tease, lip-syncing, and thought-provoking politics. The stage crackled with energy as Sweet FA dissected societal norms with playful irreverence, leaving the audience feeling both amused and challenged. “I’d love to be the queer communities’ own personal Jesus," they laugh. Their fearless exploration of LGBTQ+ rights and identities elicited not only laughter but contemplation.

There was something particularly special about witnessing all of these individuals in their complete element. The crowd held them as they stripped themselves back into often vulnerable states. It felt incredibly wholesome whilst mammoth with power. As the final notes reverberated through the theatre and the applause erupted, you were left with a feeling of warmth that carried you through the rest of the evening. The persevering, unwavering and jubilant spirit of the LGBTQ+ community was wrapped up inside of those walls. 

Andrea Di Giovanni emerged as victor of the music section, with Aaron Sibley as runner-up. The cabaret section celebrated Jordan Charles as winner, with Mala as runner-up. Reflecting on the journey, Andrea expressed their gratitude for the entire process. "Competing in Pride's Got Talent has been a wonderful experience. The atmosphere on and off stage has been joyful and exciting throughout; from meeting other talented artists to performing on a West End stage and Trafalgar Square, PGT was a blast. I'm so grateful to get the opportunity to work closely with BMG Production Music and release an EP with them. Stay tuned!"

We are beginning to witness the legacy of PGT extending far beyond the theatrics of the event itself. This year, the 2022 winners have been reaping the rewards of last year's show. Vivid, formerly known as ‘Ring the Alarm’ have been in the studio, creating new sounds, whilst KHALYSIS has released a 5-track EP. Their music has already found a home across an array of platforms, from Love Island’s social media to the screens of Coronation Street, Emmerdale, and even Netflix.

Speaking to BMG’s creative and licensing manager, and PGT judge, Megan Lawrenson, we were told about the real impact of the event. “I’ve been judging PGT for over five years now,” she tells us. “ I knew that I wanted to use our resources at BMG to help uplift queer talent. It’s so important that our catalogue is reflective of the world we live in and the narratives that surround us in daily life. This will only happen by working harder to provide opportunities for underrepresented individuals and communities.” It is so powerful to not only hear these words but see them physically represented in the world. In an era of feigned support in the form of rainbowed materials, not upheld by any real substance, PGT stands as a signpost of what can happen if we contribute something more than mere lip service.

In a world that seeks to silence marginalised voices, PGT works in opposition, as a joyous declaration that LGBTQ+ artistry and talent exists, and is here to stay. Ensuring that even when the curtain closes on the stage, this message is one that remains.