On the night of Thursday, September 28^th, the Joy Theater was filled to the brim with fans of the cult-favorite outsider artist Daniel Johnston to see the first date of the Daniel Johnston & Friends: Hi, How Are You tour. Publicized as a intimate farewell stint with only five dates, a different backing band will be joining him in every city; from the likes of Fugazi to the Preservation Hall Jazz Band here in New Orleans. Unique to this event is a screening of The Devil & Daniel Johnston, a celebrated documentary about the artist’s formative years, prior to his performance. However, the artist who took the stage was almost unrecognizable as the man we had seen on film minutes earlier. The auditorium was crowded with super-fans, but their reactions were delayed; indeed, it took several moments and prompting hand motions from the members of Preservation Hall for the audience to realize that this was the artist himself. Johnston opened with “Walking the Cow” with the intensity of feeling that won him a place in the hearts of so many, but by the end of his next song, “Life In Vain”, it seemed tenuous and barely-mustered. He abruptly left the stage, and after an exchange of frantic looks between sound crew and backing band, the space left by Johnston was filled with an ill-fitting and overlong instrumental break. He was ushered out to rejoin the band a short while later, moving through his hits “Funeral Home”, “Go”, and “Rock n’ Roll” measuredly. An orchestral rendition of “True Love Will Find You In The End” was cut short when Johnston’s lyric sheets and water bottle fell from their stand. He promptly left the stage and did not return.  Preservation Hall struck up an outro while the audience lingered hesitantly.
There was an air of confusion among the fans that personally, only deepened when I ran into the oversized merch table, selling $30 shirts as well as cassette tapes and art prints at prices significantly marked up from Johnston’s own family-run webstore. Many of the fans who filled that theater left with questions they didn’t expect to ask.
Preservation Hall Jazz Band is fantastic, without question; but how many dramatic, orchestral flourishes can you insert into songs so well-loved for their aching rawness? Can you charge twice as much for the merchandise of an artist who built a career on his belief in the necessity of DIY? Can you pack a theater in New Orleans full of people to celebrate an outsider icon’s life and art, then change the fundamental nature of it?