The show on Saturday was incredible.
Like most Los Angeles landmarks, I first learned of the Hollywood Bowl by watching the Beverly Hillbillies, which come to think of it feels somewhat appropriate on a personal level. In Season 1, Episode 23, originally aired in 1963, a con-man tried to sell Jed Clampett the Hollywood Bowl, Griffith Park, and the freeway between them. I absolutely remember watching that rerun, and that I ended up there watching legends perform seems as unlikely as Jethro Bodine.
Back to Saturday night: Our friends, Mikey and Jenna, bought four tickets for “Brandi Carlile and Friends” and graciously invited us to join them for an evening at “the Bowl.” (Nothing makes me feel so L.A. as saying that I’m going to a concert at “the Bowl.”) Unfortunately, Mikey and Jenna had to cancel their trip but shared the tickets so that we invited Erica and Natalie to join us. What a gift that turned out to be for all four of us.
I confess that I did not know the difference between Brandi Carlile and Belinda Carlisle until a few weeks ago, but Jody had sufficiently introduced me to the musical genius of Brandi Carlile prior to the show—and she absolutely delivered, as anticipated. But what we were not prepared for was the “and friends” portion of the show title. There were amazing performances by artists who may very well be ridiculously famous someday, too, but the crazy surprises started when Wendy & Lisa (of Prince fame) joined the show, much to my wife’s delight.
And then, Annie Lennox. Holy cow, Annie Lennox was incredible. Annie Lennox is pushing seventy but, pardon the pun, hasn’t missed a beat. She hit the stage wearing a tilted fedora and as you can imagine mesmerized the audience with her inimitable voice and trademark scowl, waving her arms like someone attempting to land an airplane in a hurricane. It was phenomenal and more than we bargained for.
But then: Joni Mitchell. My goodness. Joni Mitchell. For a regal end to a joyous evening, the stage set rotated and Joni Mitchell appeared, sitting as a queen on a gilded throne, with Annie Lennox on her right hand and Brandi Carlile on her left. The crowd went berserk.
Joni Mitchell is only ten years ahead of Annie Lennox but suffered a brain aneurysm rupture in 2015 and stayed seated through the musical set, unable to walk without assistance, often stopping to cough as she attempted to sing, but her musical gifts were evident throughout, and it was sweet in all the best definitions of sweet just to hear her voice. My favorite part, however, was watching her right arm instinctively skip back and forth to the beat in a mystical dance with the walking cane that she held in her right hand. It was a sight to see, and it was beautiful.
At the end, when our hearts were flashing danger signs that they just might explode if we didn’t stop, Brandi Carlile suggested that we sing Happy Birthday to Joni Mitchell since we probably won’t be at her house when she turns eighty in a couple of weeks, so sixteen thousand of us enthusiastically sang a song to Joni Mitchell, a song that celebrates the fact that she was born, which felt like the exact right thing to celebrate. What a night.
I am certain that the sixteen thousand of us in attendance will think of that night often as time marches on, but I am already thinking how impressive it is that a gigantic talent like Brandi Carlile chooses to use her prominent status to celebrate the legends that changed the world and inspired her. It doesn’t look like I am going to be a gazillionaire after all, but if that had happened, I can only hope that I would choose the same.
My sweet daughters took me to reggae night at the Hollywood Bowl last weekend for Father’s Day. It was a beautiful evening that featured Ziggy Marley, and it was extra special to hear him perform his father’s classic music on a day that honored dads. It was also a little, ahem, “foggy” in the Bowl on reggae night, and let’s just say that I was glad it was an open air venue.
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