By Sophia Lucente, A&E Editor

Published in print Apr. 15, 2015

Palmer performing in Pittsburgh with the Danger Ensemble in 2008.

On Monday Apr. 6, an inspiringly diverse crowd in both age and attire greeted esteemed alternative queen Amanda Palmer at the Fletcher Opera Theater in Raleigh, N.C. The multi-instrumentalist and soon-to-be mother, known widely for her co-leadership of pseudo-gothic duo the Dresden Dolls, was all smiles and highly entertaining over the course of the evening. She connected with audience members with striking ease, framed elegantly by red curtains on a rose petal-splashed stage.

Palmer’s legacy as a performer has been criticized for reasons largely stemming from moments of publicity unrelated to her musical achievements. In 2012, she raised $1.2 million via Kickstarter for a new album, book and tour – an amount which far surpassed her goal; soon afterwards, she announced her search for musicians to play pro-bono on her tour. She wrote her controversial “a poem for dzhokhar” shortly after the Boston Marathon bombing, a vague narration of the day’s events as experienced from her apartment just blocks from the incident.

Consequently, she has been labeled oblivious and narcissistic, in spite of her many explanations of her stardom as an exercise of trust between herself and those fans who are willing to give. Monday’s show was ample illustration of Palmer’s high level of comfort appearing before a live crowd; she flitted from baby grand piano to ukulele, read an excerpt from her recent memoir “The Art of Asking” and pulled audience-submitted discussion questions out of a hat. Whatever judgments have been ascribed to the singer’s character in the past would not have applied based on this appearance.

Although Palmer’s career in the spotlight has thrived over 15 years now, her imminent role as a new mother was apparent both visually and in brutally honest monologues she delivered, describing recent moments of internet hate and self-deprecation followed by refreshing reminders that she is now living for more than one person. Indeed, her music may be presented with its familiar ferocity, but she seems mature and well-prepared to enjoy family life with a baby and husband, “Coraline” author and comic book artist Neil Gaiman.

Monday’s show was a startlingly raw embodiment of what it means to be an alternative musician in the 20th century, an era of opportunity and collaboration aplenty. Though Palmer is by no means an unknown, she presented herself modestly and made little attempt to emulate her past popular works. First, she played two pounding piano numbers “Astronaut” and “The Perfect Fit”, forcing listeners to recall who she is and the passion she so effortlessly achieves. Midway through the set, she invited her best friend, massage therapist and doula Whitney Moses to the stage for a dramatic two-voiced take on the Dresden Dolls tune “Delilah”. The rendition urged audience members to reconsider the conversation its lyrics are meant to convey.

Later on, the two provided an adorably blunt cover of “Pregnant Women are Smug”, written by comedic musician pair and T.V. stars Garfunkel and Oates. Then, between audience requests, Palmer presented a sensitive topic explored by herself and good friend Ben Folds: the act of considering and carrying out an abortion among friends and lovers, described poignantly in her rendition of Folds’s piano ballad “Brick” and her own tough and quirky “Oasis”. The show also featured an expertly-executed “Free Bird” and a medley of Kimya Dawson tunes, both performed with unabashed enthusiasm on the ukulele.

Palmer and Moses (background) greeting guests after Monday’s performance.

It is worth wondering whether Palmer would ever face the success she now enjoys at another time in American history. By now she is well-known to both those who love and who hate her. Her singing voice, although considerably wide in range has been criticized for sounding too course and non-musical. To this reviewer, that sentiment is irrelevant given Palmer’s musical prowess that is evident in her piano-playing and in arrangements present on her albums.

To her fans, she is affectionately known as Amanda “Fucking” Palmer. She is a voice for the underdogs and for pop music deviants who crave a source for alternative yet still catchy sounds, as well as the occasional and inevitable obscenity – because life is gritty. Palmer knows this and she knows herself, and will hopefully continue to comment on real-life struggles as well as personal fulfillment.