The chemistry in the room at Sultan Jazz was electric. The relationship between the two singers on stage was something everyone in the audience could feel and appreciate. It was his birthday; she was his girl. Each in her/his own right was a gifted jazz singer. As they sang, laughed, and looked at each other, it seemed at times as if they had forgotten that there was anyone else in the room.
Each set seem to take the previous one to a new level. As the third set began to draw to a close, nobody wanted it to end.
“We do need to stop before they throw us out.”
“Let them!”
“I am serious everyone. This is the last song.”
I know I clapped as long and as loud as the close friends near the stage. This was an experience that rarely comes along. The setting of a restored shop house with its wooden floors, off-white plaster walls, and high-beamed ceiling, was set in another time. The band had been assembled with the singer’s favorite bass player, keyboard artist, and drummer. It was a first, although I came away thinking that it will not be the last.
Even now, I close my eyes and feel the goose bumps rising. When one connects, it is unique, special, and magical.
I know it does not have to end here. There are more connections that one can make. You see it. More tangibly, I can feel it as I sit in the silence of a church or a temple. Divinity is trying to reach us in every way God can imagine. In tragedy and celebration, in hope and despair, we are wrapped in Divine arms. The links are here if we are willing to make them.
As I think of what might happen, David’s whisper lingers; “Make the king a winner, God; the day we call, give us your answer.” (Psalm 20.9) David invites us to experience the link.
I am already anticipating the experience of another evening at Sultan Jazz. It was amazing, alive with possibilities and hope.
