As I sat last night in the Hollywood Bowl, the fourth or fifth time for this summer's season, I knew I would be writing about it today. The sound gift was the jazz stylings of Diana Krall, and if her husky sensual soulful singing has impressed me before, her nimble pianist's fingers almost did more so. It was a perfect interlude. But I have found, for me, that any performance there is perfect, thousands of us somehow intimately held in the cup of carved out mountain caressed by the California breeze and the night desert scents. The occasional insect transects and glistens in the crossed floodlights that remind aircraft to stay away and let the music flow uninterrupted to our senses. If you haven't been there, and you live in the Los Angeles area, go, go, go. Even if it means sitting in the uppermost seats, your soul will be revived by the oasis of countryside. If you haven't been there and you live across the states, I offer this short sharing, one evening's performance amid the trees and the sky, and its semicolon clouds easing above us with our friends and our wine and our picnic baskets or concession purchased goodies, Patina catered. As Diana deliciously crooned "I've Got You Under My Skin" or her enlightened version of the Bee Gees, "How Can You Mend a Broken Heart", I swayed to the music and my own meandering thoughts and wished the summer would never end.
Someone once called these moments "glimpses of paradise". Indeed.
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