Another soul from the Lynchian universe has ascended into the White Lodge. Rebekah Del Rio, whose luminous voice etched itself into cinematic immortality with her transcendent rendition of Llorando in David Lynch’s Mulholland Drive, passed away at her Los Angeles home on June 23, at the age of 57.
Del Rio’s nephew, Dan Coronado, confirmed her death in a social media post:
“Just found out my Tia Becky passed away, and we literally just saw her on Father’s Day. So grateful the kids got to hear her sing. and also that I didn’t listen to her and secretly recorded the moment. Her most famous song is titled Llorando which is named after Roy Orbison’s song Crying, which I’m doing right now as I type this out. Thank you for sharing your beautiful gift with the world. We love you.”
Born beneath California skies in Chula Vista on July 10, 1967, Del Rio first graced stages in San Diego’s clubs and cafes before venturing northward into Los Angeles’ neon haze. Her soulful gift eventually drew her to Nashville, enchanted by the siren song of country music.
Del Rio’s artistic path crossed Lynch’s in the mid-1990s, thanks to mutual agent Brian Loucks. In a moment of artful serendipity, Lynch discreetly captured Del Rio’s heart-rending performance of Llorando. This recording became the emotional core of the legendary Club Silencio scene, breathing new life into Lynch’s abandoned television pilot and transforming it into a surreal masterpiece.
In Mulholland Drive’s unforgettable climax, Del Rio appeared bathed in spotlight, her voice cascading like a spectral wave over Naomi Watts and Laura Harring, whose characters crumbled beneath its emotional weight. Although the film revealed the performance as an illusion of lip-syncing, Del Rio’s powerful voice filled the room live across multiple takes, leaving cast and crew in awe.
“There were many takes,” Del Rio recalled. “And with every take I sang along because I felt I had to produce that same feeling with the vibrato in my throat so the audience could see it. I also wanted the beautiful girls on the balcony, Laura and Naomi, to experience it live. They were present while I was doing my scene, so I sang to them.”
This singular scene elevated Del Rio’s profile beyond music alone, allowing her haunting voice to resonate across other cinematic landscapes…the dystopian dreams of Southland Tales, the noir shadows of Sin City, and the fiery intensity of Man on Fire. Yet, Lynch remained her closest artistic kin. She returned to his world once more in Twin Peaks: The Return, delivering haunting duets with Moby on the shadow-drenched Roadhouse stage. Her presence endured through her final days, highlighted by a recent appearance at a Mulholland Drive charity screening, a memory cherished by those fortunate enough to witness it.
Del Rio’s life was also marked by profound personal grief, having lost her son, Phillip C. DeMars, in 2009 at the age of 23 from cancer. Through her music, however, she transformed sorrow into celestial melodies, her voice eternally poised between joy and loss.
“My voice lends itself to that sadness because I carry a lot of grief inside,” she told The Guardian in 2022.
Details surrounding her passing remain sparse; an understated echo befitting a performer whose most profound moments thrived within mystery and silent wonder.
Silencio.
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