Concert at the Tent

Forget that I had to be at the airport by 5:30 am the next day; I wasn't missing Dianne Reeves's concert at the Rockwell Tent last March 2nd.

When I hit forty, I noticed that I had more frequently begun checking out upcoming concerts and purchasing tickets even if no one else I knew could join me. Who cares if I went alone? Live concerts present an electrifying experience that no CD can ever duplicate, and I wasn't going to deny myself the sensation. Luckily this time, fellow music enthusiasts Eric and Marge Barro, who live minutes away from Rockwell, were game for an intimate evening with jazz diva Dianne Reeves.

After a brief dinner of dimsum and rice toppings at Mongkok in Powerplant, we took our seats at the tent, mere meters away from the stage, in time for the opening act--The Mike Stern Quartet. The set was a most curious blend of syncopated jazz rhythms and haunting melodies from this 4-time Grammy nominee. 

"She's going to sing her ass off," the guitarist soon warned, and then it was time for Reeves to mesmerize the crowd. 

There is a masochistic pleasure in attending the performances of such accomplished artists (at least for a part-time musician like me); it is in being enveloped by someone else's art, surrendering to their music, and realizing you will never be as talented as they! Unless of course, even at forty plus years, you still see yourself as a work in progress and heed the advice of Reeves's grandma: if you want to see better days, you've gotta be patient.

Dianne Reeves was a most gracious entertainer and dedicated performer, praising the Filipino audience for being such natural musicians, and thanking us all with every heartfelt note. There is a reason why she is most respected in the global music industry. And while I may never approach the status of artists like her or any of those in her band, I'm glad I can witness such virtuosity in my lifetime.