Peaches has said she first fell in love with the musical as a 15-year-old who would sing it in her bedroom. At times, her performance felt just like that: utterly heartfelt, passionate, and a bit showy.
As impressive as her portrayals were, the show was even more a triumph of the artist’s versatility rather than her interpretation of the material. Her vocal gifts, in particular, were a revelation as Peaches wailed, intoned, and even crooned as if Broadway beckoned.
The show’s initial productions in Berlin, where the Canadian-born singer lives, were more elaborate, including a giant cross that hoisted Peaches aloft for the climax. But the stark set design at the ICA — just Peaches, a piano, some stage lights, and two pieces of masking tape on the floor — suited the show’s minimalism.
Chilly Gonzales’s deft accompaniment, however, was anything but minimalist. He stripped the behemoth score to something more manageable but still grandiose — lithe in the right spots [“Gethsemane (I Only Want to Say)’’] and thunderous elsewhere (“Trial Before Pilate’’).
With the spotlight trained squarely on her, Peaches told the story through her voice and her body. She plumbed her lower register on “This Jesus Must Die.’’ She shrugged her shoulders as she announced, “Always hoped that I’d be an apostle’’ on “The Last Supper.’’ And she crinkled her nose and danced a little two-step as she put a farcical vaudeville spin on “King Herod’s Song (Try It and See).’’
As the crucifixion loomed, a ragtag team of five dancers swirled around Peaches as she stood on a box, slightly elevated with her arms outstretched. The end had come, but a thought lingered on the way out the door: Get this woman another show.
James Reed can be reached at jreed@globe.com.
