Caetano at Carnegie

I was introduced to Caetano Veloso (albeit unwittingly) through the soundtrack to Wong Kar-Wai's Happy Together. His music plays over a shot of the waterfalls that serve as the ultimate destination for its protagonists. I wouldn't learn until later the name of the song or the singer.

Veloso's music would appear again in film, on the soundtrack to Pedro Almodovar's Talk to Her. For five glorious minutes, the film stopped to allow Veloso to sing, accompanied by his musical arranger on cello. The song he sung was the same as in Kar-Wai's film, stripped back to its essence.

I had known that he was to appear at Carnegie Hall in November of 2003. I had asked E.W. if he wanted to go. Neither of us was certain we would be in the city in April. I decided not to purchase tickets and put aside the calendar that had come in the mail. As the date approached, I saw the advertisements, but still neglected to purchase tickets. Suddenly, this week I decided I wanted to go. The show was sold out, but I was told to call for cancellations Thursday. There were none.

Today, I decided to stand in the cancellation line at the theatre. I walked up Broadway to the auditorium and found myself fifth in line. An usher had set up seats for the first ten people and we waited. The couple first in line were Brazilian's, in New York for work. He had seen Veloso in Brazil in an outdoor auditorium. The couple directly in front of me were from Brooklyn. She had read an article in the New York Times and decided to try to get tickets. She had never heard of Caetano Veloso until the article, and had only heard the clips he has on his website.

We waited. Julie Taymor picked up tickets. Airto Lindsey picked up tickets. Ten minutes before curtain, I had my ticket. I walked to the elevator and asked where to go. "You're in the balcony," the usher told me. "You're going up to heaven!" I asked if there was a restroom on that floor. "This is Carnegie Hall," he told me. "We have bathrooms on all the floors!

As the lights dimmed and Veloso emerged from the wings, the audience erupted. He took his place amongst his band members and started with a slow samba before turning to the American songbook that make up his most current album. In the majority, he found a fresh approach; unfortunately, his interpretation of Dylan's "It's alright ma, I'm only bleeding" left something to be desired.

Midway through, he interrupted the concert to talk about the recording of his new album. Ten years before, he had recorded an album of all Spanish songs; he hadn't realized the similarities between the two albums. As he talked about interpreting other songs, and trying to find new approaches, he spoke of how certain songs seem to find their own way in the world. He motioned a winding road with his hands, pointing to his guitarist who then played the first few bars of "Cucurrucucu," the song that had introduced me to Veloso's music twice. It was sublime.

As he finished, Veloso considered the music he has made, creating new songs and championing songs that might be lesser known. He had sung songs written for Carmen Miranda earlier in the evening; one she declined to record. The first song he sang was written for her as she was leaving Brazil. The lyric, he said, was bittersweet. She is sad to go, but happy that she might bring glory back unto her village. He then said that then there are times he wants to sing the popular songs, before singing "The Girl from Ipanema."

At the end of his encore, he sat on his stool and waved to the audience. His long arms extended out from his body. Throughout the concert he was in motion, often moving his feet as if he were walking towards us. At one point (during a surprisingly good cover of "Come as you are") he danced. When he left the stage, the audience stood, clapping and shouting, unwilling to let him go.

Currently listening to: Caetano Veloso, Fina Estampa en Vivro Posted by eku at April 16, 2004 11:43 PM