Yesterday evening, in between writing an absurd ‘True or False’ round in preparation for tonights Zoom quiz with buddies, I watched two Sky Arts recordings of live concerts by multi million album selling bands.
Both musical bonanzas performed by British groups in two historic and cosmopolitan European capital cities. Incidentally, this isn’t a riddle, I’m merely enhancing the essay’s suspense….. Well, trying to anyhow!…… Oi, you in Thirsk, stop yawning!
The gigs were filled with brilliantly executed songs played to packed audiences upon expensively designed and constructed stages. The clambake’s gratification levels augmented further by thrillingly chromatic light shows that were no doubt appreciated by all….. Unless, of course, they suffered from epilepsy.
Despite liking both bands, they’re by no means among my favourite artists. However, as I quite like some of their anthems and as the Samaritans were engaged, I decided to move away from the TV remote to absorb these smorgasbords of sound.
Slumped on the sofa watching these performance, one of the things striking me during numerous camera pans to audience was the sheer and unadulterated joy pasted upon the crowd’s faces during both performances
I know you can rightfully argue that form of upbeat emotion was perhaps to be expected. After all, a customer doesn’t ordinarily pay good money to attend a gig and sit through an act’s live refrains with a face like a slapped ass.
The only reason I raised the observation was merely to relay how refreshing it was to behold several thousand peoples elation from witnessing their heroes perform musical back catalogues live. A sight affording a positive distraction from existing in a zeitgeist of seemingly endless toxic news stories and deeply ingrained negativity.
I suppose the fact each gig was bequeathed to it’s discerning audience by a huge musical act was kinda irrelevant. It could just as easily been ‘Harry & The Shoehorns’ singing Where’s My Hat?! at Beeston Working Men’s Club. The gratifying element for me was to capture audience euphoria borne from an individual(s) artistic creativity and performance.
Although it has to be said, if it had been ‘Harry & The Shoehorns’ at Beeston Working Men’s Club not all of the crowd would have been so deliriously happy. For instance, Old Ted, who moodily sits in the bar corner with his stout and newspaper, is a real curmudgeonly sod who’d no doubt would’ve complained.
In my opinion, anyone who creates any form of art to a high standard is truly blessed. In some cases a gift that can’t be taught.
For instance, when practising the art of fictional penmanship, one may command an excellent knowledge of the English language. However, not possessing similar levels of creativity can hamper the written output’s quality. I’d venture you can teach a creative writer to improve grammatically, but achieving vice versa is significantly more challenging.
Anyway, viewing these two concerts not only drummed home to me the sheer euphoria art can afford its audience. It also made me focus on the buzz it must give an artist/group seeing ‘their baby’ imparting such huge levels of elation within a crowd.
It must be so rewarding/gratifying knowing the results of your meandering and creative mind, along with the subsequent skills in its delivery, bring fulfilment to and appreciation from so many souls.
To turn a blank page of paper, staves or canvas into something tangible that touches someone’s life, even if only for a moment, must yield the creator a reward beyond simple material riches …….. Of course, it’s a further boon if you’re fortunate enough to receive financial recompense for your efforts.
Anyway, enough of me rabbiting on, I’m off to re-attach a new wall picture which’s just fallen off the lounge wall ……… Looks like I’m going to have to use significantly more Blu Tac.
Thanks for sticking with this prose (unlike the pictures adhesion to the wall). Oh, and I’ve just realised I didn’t reveal the two band names, did I ……. Maybe one day I’ll unravel that mystery wrapped within an enigma.