Film ‘Broken Speech’ by Tony Diamanti: A strong and clear voice.

photo-7Tony Diamanti speaks through a digital and human intermediary. He himself taps on a keyboard with a extension hung from his head like the lamp of a lamp fish. Figuratively speaking the extension illuminates his thoughts, but instead of functioning as a lure to gobble up other fish, Diamanti uses his interrupted voice to establish a connection with others that leads to an uncovering, a construction of himself as a living and visible man. The connection means a choice between existing and oblivion, because,”at first people don’t see me at all. I’m invisible.” His lamp does draw people in, “Their curiosity keeps [me] alive.”

“Don’t shy away,” would be the first words, Diamanti says, that he would utter if he could use his own voice box.photo-8

On stage, in a two man play, a third person carries his voice loud and smoothly and quickly. Because we recognize our own thoughts in his’, we connect with Diamanti. Is it his thoughts or does the third person’s voice connect us to him directly. Do we stop seeing his disability? Or do we finally just see him? Is it problematic that we connect to Diamanti more fully when his speech is like our own? Or is it our initial unfamiliarity with this particular form of speech that shapes the gap between him and us and is it our growing familiarity that gradually allows us to hear him as the person he is? Does the increasing familiarity mean that the play is about him or maybe turns into a play about him? Is it about us accepting a representation of Diamanti that is real or a representation of a person Diamanti wants us to see? This is an important question. This question follows, I think, directly from the earlier thoughts about representation, and is one that we ask of every actor, every memoirist, everyone who talks about themselves.

Ultimately then we see Diamanti as an actor.

It takes us longer, the first time. Our brain goes through the interrupted speech slowly, then faster, and ends up allowing the intermediate stops to completely disappear.

Diamanti calls this process ‘the politics of representation’. He insists, “Don’t just hear my words, listen to them, then see me. If you see me first, you might not listen to me.” He is wrong. We see him alright. And we want to hear more.