Notes from Oxford - Vol. I

I stumbled upon one of my notebooks that I took to Oxford with me this summer. For those of you who don't know, I spent the summer in Oxford, England studying with the British American Drama Academy. The program lasted four weeks, with classes in voice, speech, movement, classical and modern theater as well as master classes every week that were taught by guest actors, directors, producers and playwrights. I want to put these notes on my blog so I'll have another record for myself, and for you to enjoy. If you are at all inclined in the theatrical department, I think you might enjoy these notes. I do need to find my journalist's moleskine notebook that contained all my notes from the Sir Derek Jacobi masterclass though..

So, here are my notes.

Things to try to remain active: Butoh, Alexander Technique, Capoeira, Pilates, Yoga. Live in your body. Be active. This will help you on stage with your movements.

Books to read:
Peter Hall - Advice to Players
                   Exposed by the Mask: Form and Language in Drama
John Barton - Playing Shakespeare
David Mamet - True and False

You do not have to feel anything before you learn the words. Learn the words, understand the form, and then decide what you feel. 

Shakespeare uses alliteration, repetition, assonance, etc. to HELP the actor. Always wordplay.

"For Shakespeare, what you need is a warm heart and a cool head."

Inspiration comes from an honest regard for what's on the page.

Tip for breath control: Think of hitting each line like a diver diving straight into the water. Do not expel the breath before you say the line.

On Actions: The Actor's Thesaurus
**You can't play an emotion. Emotions are the result. You play actions. Transitive verbs.


DAVID LEVEAUX MASTER CLASS QUOTES:

 

*David Leveaux is a UK theatre director who has been nominated for 5 Tony Awards. At the time he came to visit us at BADA, he was in the middle of directing the revival of Tom Stoppard's Arcadia on the West End. These are some of the many memorable quotes I was able to jot down during the session. Enjoy!

 

"Failure is a tool. So is boredom. If I know I'm bored, I know something has to change."

"When I'm in this room I'm working. As Actors or people who love chaos, we can't let that permeate our work."

"A rehearsal room is a series of little deaths; humiliations."

"We are all of us trying to do the art of the possible and the impossible."

"You can have a relationship with failure. Never mind the f****ing critic. What about you, and the energy you can bring from it?"

"Tom Stoppard said that 'laughter is the sound of comprehension.'"

"The directorial need to 'sign' a production is nonexistent."

"Great plays are an enduring mystery."

"Life itself is not catchable by concept."

"Catch in the inherently incatchable..and freeze it."

"We the living, have an obligation to stay alive."

David Laveaux on playing Pinter:
-what is the immediate moment?
-don't bring a lot of backstory; it's what's happening in the present tense.
-Pinter's background was in comedy!
-Pinter is vivid, writes facts.
-there are no enigmatic pauses in Pinter. All the pauses are real.

David Laveaux on auditioning:
-listen, be directable
-be open to changes
-auditioners are looking for you, not trying to weed you out.



*Important words in Shakespeare: IF, NOW

PLAY TO READ: Judas Iscariot


Make sure your intention on stage is stronger than the nervous voices in your head.





**David Laveaux

Personal Monthly Budget

Monthly Expenses:

Food: $110.20
Books: $277.38
Entertainment: $117.30
Clothes/Essentials: $91.49
Bills/Debt: $449.24

Total: $1045.61
Estimated Gross Monthly Income: $1200

Next month, I will not be spending any money on books, and my bills will be reduced to $100/month since I paid off my debt.
Breakdown:
$60/month - cell phone
$40/month - Insurance
$appx. 50/month - credit card

So, next month, my expenses should look like this:

Food: $110
Clothes/Essentials: $100
Bills: $150
Entertainment: $100

Total: $460
Estimated Gross Monthly Income: $1200

Savings: $740

Wasn't that rain today just glorious?

I spent the morning sitting in silence in my comfy armchair by the window watching the rain. It was such a delight. Inhale, exhale. Now you begin.


Work was long. And I hate how it takes up my whole day. By the time I get home, I'm too tired to work out and too brain dead to do homework, but I stay awake anyway because I want to feel like I haven't wasted the day. So. Here I am on blogger.

I've joined tweetwhatyoueat.com. I saw an ad for it in Women's Health and thought I'd give it a try. I've never done a food diary before so this should be enlightening.

Well. So long.

Step in Time

Good afternoon, my darlings! I do hope your day is going well. I'll have you know I've procrastinated revising my English paper just for you. Don't you feel special? Aw..... Well. Onto things that are cool.

After French class I took a little walk around the city. Can I just say that I love Arizona weather? Thanks. 'Cos I do. Anyway, I deposited my first paycheck from my second job into my bank account and then mailed my very last check to pay off the loan I took out for my trip this summer. Woohoo debt free! Because I was in such a jolly mood, I decided to treat myself to a new restaurant.

After attaching myself to my iPod and selecting "Step in Time" as my walking song, I wandered down central avenue until I came across Cafe Roma. What caught my eye was the menu taped to the inside of the window advertising breakfast for $2.95. Scarcely after I ordered my food, there was a line almost out the door. Haha! I had vanquished the lunchtime-business-crowd rush. Two minutes later I was ignoring the sting in my fingertips as I munched on my delicious, fresh off the stove English Muffin cheese, egg and sausage sandwich. I knew I should have let it cool down before I ate it, but after the banquet that was the first bite I simply couldn't resist. Needless to say, I've found my new breakfast place. Matt's Big Breakfast will always be #1, but really, you can't beat homemade breakfast for $2.95!

I have to confess, I have mixed feelings about leaving downtown Phoenix. I had resolved myself to transfer to the Herberger College for the Arts next semester, but I've really started to like my life here (aside from school, living in the dorms and never doing anything creative.) I guess, I just wish the Arts college was in downtown. I love the artsy vibe, the dozens of little hole-in-the-wall coffee shops, the local grocery stores, the library, the fact that the Irish and Chinese Cultural Centers are just a short lightrail ride away from my dorm, the fact that the Herberger Theater, Valley Youth Theater and Phoenix Theater are practically on my doorstep, and the fact that it's small and not over-crowded. I am really dreading about going to school in Tempe because the campus is so huge. I really like that all my classes are 100 feet from my dorm building. And, this sounds strange, but not studying theater gives me even more motivation to do things on my own. In a way, I feel more in control of my own education. I like the idea of working on the degree even if it's something I detest, but secretly studying my real passion in private. It's kind of..I don't know. I wish I could describe it. It makes me feel rebellious and in control and out of control and powerful and motivated and inspired. It's almost like I'm treating pursuing my acting dream like pursuing someone who is way out of my league; in that I only want what I can't have and if I do get it, I won't work as hard for it. That may not be exactly right, but it's the best I can describe it for now.

Well, I should pack this up. I've got a bus to catch.

Until we meet again,

Ellyn

William Wordsworth

I

          THERE was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,
          The earth, and every common sight,
                    To me did seem
                  Apparelled in celestial light,
          The glory and the freshness of a dream.
          It is not now as it hath been of yore;--
                  Turn wheresoe'er I may,
                    By night or day,
          The things which I have seen I now can see no more.

                                   II

                  The Rainbow comes and goes,
                  And lovely is the Rose,
                  The Moon doth with delight
            Look round her when the heavens are bare,
                  Waters on a starry night
                  Are beautiful and fair;
              The sunshine is a glorious birth;
              But yet I know, where'er I go,
          That there hath past away a glory from the earth.

                                  III

          Now, while the birds thus sing a joyous song,
              And while the young lambs bound
                  As to the tabor's sound,
          To me alone there came a thought of grief:
          A timely utterance gave that thought relief,
                  And I again am strong:
          The cataracts blow their trumpets from the steep;
          No more shall grief of mine the season wrong;
          I hear the Echoes through the mountains throng,
          The Winds come to me from the fields of sleep,
                  And all the earth is gay;
                      Land and sea
              Give themselves up to jollity,
                  And with the heart of May
              Doth every Beast keep holiday;--
                  Thou Child of Joy,
          Shout round me, let me hear thy shouts, thou happy
                    Shepherd-boy!

                                   IV

          Ye blessed Creatures, I have heard the call
              Ye to each other make; I see
          The heavens laugh with you in your jubilee;
              My heart is at your festival,
              My head hath its coronal,
          The fulness of your bliss, I feel--I feel it all.
              Oh evil day! if I were sullen
              While Earth herself is adorning,
                  This sweet May-morning,
              And the Children are culling
                  On every side,
              In a thousand valleys far and wide,
              Fresh flowers; while the sun shines warm,
          And the Babe leaps up on his Mother's arm:--
              I hear, I hear, with joy I hear!
              --But there's a Tree, of many, one,
          A single Field which I have looked upon,
          Both of them speak of something that is gone:
              The Pansy at my feet
              Doth the same tale repeat:
          Whither is fled the visionary gleam?
          Where is it now, the glory and the dream?

                                   V

          Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting:
          The Soul that rises with us, our life's Star,
              Hath had elsewhere its setting,
                And cometh from afar:
              Not in entire forgetfulness,
              And not in utter nakedness,
          But trailing clouds of glory do we come
              From God, who is our home:
          Heaven lies about us in our infancy!
          Shades of the prison-house begin to close
              Upon the growing Boy,
          But He beholds the light, and whence it flows,
              He sees it in his joy;
          The Youth, who daily farther from the east
              Must travel, still is Nature's Priest,
              And by the vision splendid
              Is on his way attended;
          At length the Man perceives it die away,
          And fade into the light of common day.

                                   VI

          Earth fills her lap with pleasures of her own;
          Yearnings she hath in her own natural kind,
          And, even with something of a Mother's mind,
              And no unworthy aim,
              The homely Nurse doth all she can
          To make her Foster-child, her Inmate Man,
              Forget the glories he hath known,
          And that imperial palace whence he came.

                                  VII

          Behold the Child among his new-born blisses,
          A six years' Darling of a pigmy size!
          See, where 'mid work of his own hand he lies,
          Fretted by sallies of his mother's kisses,
          With light upon him from his father's eyes!
          See, at his feet, some little plan or chart,
          Some fragment from his dream of human life,
          Shaped by himself with newly-learned art;
              A wedding or a festival,
              A mourning or a funeral;
                  And this hath now his heart,
              And unto this he frames his song:
                  Then will he fit his tongue
          To dialogues of business, love, or strife;
              But it will not be long
              Ere this be thrown aside,
              And with new joy and pride
          The little Actor cons another part;
          Filling from time to time his "humorous stage"
          With all the Persons, down to palsied Age,
          That Life brings with her in her equipage;
              As if his whole vocation
              Were endless imitation.

                                  VIII

          Thou, whose exterior semblance doth belie
              Thy Soul's immensity;
          Thou best Philosopher, who yet dost keep
          Thy heritage, thou Eye among the blind,
          That, deaf and silent, read'st the eternal deep,
          Haunted for ever by the eternal mind,--
              Mighty Prophet! Seer blest!
              On whom those truths do rest,
          Which we are toiling all our lives to find,
          In darkness lost, the darkness of the grave;
          Thou, over whom thy Immortality
          Broods like the Day, a Master o'er a Slave,
          A Presence which is not to be put by;
          Thou little Child, yet glorious in the might
          Of heaven-born freedom on thy being's height,
          Why with such earnest pains dost thou provoke
          The years to bring the inevitable yoke,
          Thus blindly with thy blessedness at strife?
          Full soon thy Soul shall have her earthly freight,
          And custom lie upon thee with a weight
          Heavy as frost, and deep almost as life!

                                   IX

              O joy! that in our embers
              Is something that doth live,
              That nature yet remembers
              What was so fugitive!
          The thought of our past years in me doth breed
          Perpetual benediction: not indeed
          For that which is most worthy to be blest--
          Delight and liberty, the simple creed
          Of Childhood, whether busy or at rest,
          With new-fledged hope still fluttering in his breast:--
              Not for these I raise
              The song of thanks and praise;
            But for those obstinate questionings
            Of sense and outward things,
            Fallings from us, vanishings;
            Blank misgivings of a Creature
          Moving about in worlds not realised,
          High instincts before which our mortal Nature
          Did tremble like a guilty Thing surprised:
              But for those first affections,
              Those shadowy recollections,
            Which, be they what they may,
          Are yet the fountain light of all our day,
          Are yet a master light of all our seeing;
            Uphold us, cherish, and have power to make
          Our noisy years seem moments in the being
          Of the eternal Silence: truths that wake,
              To perish never;
          Which neither listlessness, nor mad endeavour,
              Nor Man nor Boy,
          Nor all that is at enmity with joy,
          Can utterly abolish or destroy!
              Hence in a season of calm weather
              Though inland far we be,
          Our Souls have sight of that immortal sea
              Which brought us hither,
              Can in a moment travel thither,
          And see the Children sport upon the shore,
          And hear the mighty waters rolling evermore.

                                   X

          Then sing, ye Birds, sing, sing a joyous song!
              And let the young Lambs bound
              As to the tabor's sound!
          We in thought will join your throng,
              Ye that pipe and ye that play,
              Ye that through your hearts to-day
              Feel the gladness of the May!
          What though the radiance which was once so bright
          Be now for ever taken from my sight,
              Though nothing can bring back the hour
          Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower;
              We will grieve not, rather find
              Strength in what remains behind;
              In the primal sympathy
              Which having been must ever be;
              In the soothing thoughts that spring
              Out of human suffering;
              In the faith that looks through death,
          In years that bring the philosophic mind.

                                   XI

          And O, ye Fountains, Meadows, Hills, and Groves,
          Forebode not any severing of our loves!
          Yet in my heart of hearts I feel your might;
          I only have relinquished one delight
          To live beneath your more habitual sway.
          I love the Brooks which down their channels fret,
          Even more than when I tripped lightly as they;
          The innocent brightness of a new-born Day
                      Is lovely yet;
          The Clouds that gather round the setting sun
          Do take a sober colouring from an eye
          That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality;
          Another race hath been, and other palms are won.
          Thanks to the human heart by which we live,
          Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears,
          To me the meanest flower that blows can give
          Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.

Flying By.

So the weeks seem to be. It's already the weekend...AGAIN!

I think Carla Bruni is lovely. Her music especially.


Well. That's it for tonight.

Oh yes: A River Runs Through It is a phenomenal movie.

I caught myself in the middle of doing nothing..and yawned.

Yikes. I have such high expectations for myself sometimes. And then I end up disappointing myself. It's a vicious cycle that I really am trying to break. Life is too short, my friends. I'm 20! I've lived two decades already and what have I got to show for it? Man. Well, at least I got my 20 minutes of sunshine today. Vitamin D feels good.

So I found this great new site: www.tadalists.com

It's an online to-do list basically. You create an account, and then make lists for yourself. I never used to believe in making lists (which is probably why I never got anything done) but I'm finally growing up I guess. How about that?

Can I just tell you that Mary Poppins was absolutely, without-a-doubt, the best show I have EVER seen. And I saw it at Gammage! And I hate seeing shows at Gammage. It feels more like a stadium to me rather than a theater. But man. Let me tell you. I absolutely insist to everyone in the world that they have, have, HAVE to go see Mary Poppins. It was absolutely, magically, supercalifragilisticexpealidociously practically perfect in every way. I'm a big fan of the movie, so I was slightly skeptical about seeing anyone that wasn't Julie Andrews or Dick Van Dyke play the two leads but boy, was I ever delighted! I literally have nothing bad to say about it. Not even constructive criticism. Oh wait, I do have one. I wish it was another hour longer. It was almost a three hour show with intermission but it felt like maybe..20 minutes. Ahhh. So. So. So. Good.

Perhaps my absence from the theater made me just overly excited to see anything on the stage..but..no. It really was that good. Wowww. I am currently listening to the original soundtrack right now. It really is such a delightful story. You know, I think it's one of my favorites. And Julie Andrew's voice just makes my heart melt. I spent about an hour today watching youtube videos of her in My Fair Lady. She is just magical. I want to be like her.

Well darlings, I'm done for now I suppose. Until we meet again.

Yours respectfully,

Ellyn

She says you're a masochist for loving me.

So roll up your sleeves.

I've been listening to a lot of Ingrid Michaelson lately (shout out to Kaylee Jacobsen for introducing me). I really love her music. Every single song is memorable and hummable. I'd like to write songs like that. I do write songs like that, I just don't do them enough.

I've really got to start this English paper...

All right.

OH! I'm going to go see Mary Poppins tomorrow night :) so excited.

Catch back with ya'll then.
Oh..here's a fun picture:

This is Il Capitano.

 

Il Capitano (the Captain) is a masked character from the Commedia dell'Art

The Captain uses bravado and excessive shows of manliness to hide his true cowardly nature.

He convinces people of the following facts, although in reality, he is a coward and, at best, claims the credit for what someone else did.

He is often a foreigner who can maintain the claim only by benefit of the fact that none of the locals know him. He is usually a Spaniard given the fact that for most of the late Renaissance to well into 17th century, Italy was under Spanish domination. He was most likely inspired by the boisterous Iberic caudillos who told tall tales of their exploits either in the American continent or in the wars with France.
Il Capitano often talks at length about made up conquests of both the militaristic and carnal nature in attempts to impress others, but often only ends up impressing himself. He gets easily carried away in his tales and doesn't realise when those around him don't buy his act. He would be the first to run away from any and all battles and he has trouble enough talking to and being around women.
He is also extremely opportunistic and greedy. If hired by Pantalone to protect his daughter from her many suitors, Capitano would set up a bidding war for his services or aid between the suitors and Pantalone while wooing her himself. If he is hired to fight the Turks, he will bluster about fighting them to his last drop of blood, but when the Turks seem to be winning, he will join them. When they are driven off, he will change sides again and boast about his loyalty and bravery. He stands in a high posture with a straight back and most often has one hand in the air and the other hand on his sword or hip.

Thursday

Thursday:

Woke up 8:15 a.m.

Worked until 4:30 p.m.

Watched Hulu until 5:14 p.m.

Got on blogger 5:15 pm.

Commence procrastination..


Also, I auditioned for Romeo and Juliet last night, but I didn't get a callback. Oh well! :)

Well. What Can you do?

I have had a rough week. Notwithstanding my nose's refusal to behave like a healthy nose with its blatant displays of snot and stuffiness (gross I know), I  have had to deal with something really quite taxing. If you remember, I was cast in two student films. One of those, I came to realize I was not particularly comfortable with. So, after much thought and prayer, I had to back out of it.

Now, anyone who knows me knows how much I absolutely HATE going back on my word. Especially when it comes to the arts. I believe that if you say you're going to do something, you do it. No if's, and's or but's. But I came to realize I was a bit too hasty in my initial acceptance of the role and Lord, I will never do that again. I had already gone to the first read-through, met the cast, connected with everyone, it was awesome. I absolutely loved it. Needless to say, it was not an easy decision. I do feel that it was the right thing to do though. I just cringe to think about all the extra work I've caused them. I was in every single scene. I'm absolutely torn up over this. I know that it's not the end of the world, and I just have to take comfort in the fact that I did not compromise my beliefs or values. If I let God lead me in the small things, maybe He'll trust me with the bigger things.

But man, that was hard.

Well, I guess that's about it for now.

A bien tot.

An Evening with Jason Robert Brown

I can’t begin to describe
What kind of a silly sentence is that? Obviously, I’m going to try to describe as best I can what I experienced and that sentence was just a way for me to get my creative juices flowing. And indeed, in order to begin well, one must start with the first thought that comes to mind. Of course I see that I am merely stalling for time. But you know, I relish this time. This mad ceremony of tapping and clicking and clacking on my keyboard without having to worry about my News Reporting & Writing professor breathing down my neck mumbling: “Too many words - too many adjectives - get to the point already! That word is judgmental - Your readers won’t know what that word means - simplify - don’t use four words when you can use one.” etc., etc
So. If you don’t mind (and frankly, I don’t care even if you do mind I’m going to write how I want to anyway. It’s my bloody tumblr!) I intend to carry on in this overly embellished and sometimes superfluous diatribe of words for the duration of this post. That sentence did not make sense. Poor word choice. Poor structure. But I won’t bother to go back and change it because I’m not being graded. I’m really not a very good writer sometimes. So, my apologies.
Oh this is glorious! I have taken up two paragraphs in introduction and you STILL don’t know what the purpose of this post is! HA! Where’s your inverted triangle NOW, Mr. Anglen??
Well. To the point. I had the great privilege to see Jason Robert Brown in concert this past Sunday. I have been a fan of his music for about four years. A good friend of mine introduced me to him during a drive down the SR-51 on a partly-cloudy Arizona afternoon. He popped in a CD called “The Last Five Years” and I sat back in awed silence with this stupid grin plastered across my face that really made my facial muscles hurt after we reached our destination and had to turn off the car. I wouldn’t dare to describe his music as ‘sweeping’ or ‘epic,’ for indeed it is almost entirely written for the piano and each song contains about six or seven minutes of sometimes unhummable, sometimes dissonant, sometimes chaotic, but always expertly arranged melodies. And his lyrics! It came as no surprise when I discovered he studied with Stephen Sondheim.
Anyway, his music has been a big part of my life for the past four years, and when I found out he was coming to Arizona to see the Valley Youth Theater’s opening night production of 13 AND teach a workshop AND give a concert I immediately jumped to the nearest internet connection (that’s sort of a humorous mental image) and ordered my tickets for 13 and the concert (unfortunately I was unable to get off of work the day he was teaching the workshop.)
At approximately 4:30 p.m., a lone piano stood in the center of the stage, illuminated by two blue spotlights as the audience excitedly filed in. I took my seat in the third row from the stage, dead center. If I had a habit of biting my nails whenever I was excited, I would have had nothing left on the tips of my fingers but my cuticles. Fortunately, my only nervous habit is squealing and smiling really really huge and occasionally catching my breath in a gasp just to make sure I’m still alive and breathing. So. I managed to calm down in the last two minutes..but then he came onstage. The whole house erupted in applause and whoops and screams.
He is dreadfully handsome. Of medium height and build, a mop of dark brown hair with the deepest of brooding eyes to match, a politely pronounced bent nose indicative of his heritage, and the chin of a Gershwin. He waves and smiles with closed lips as he crosses to the piano and sits at the bench. He takes a sip from his water bottle, (an Ethos water bottle. I remember being very jealous of whatever Starbucks employee got to talk to him..) and stretches his hands and begins to play a song I’ve never heard before. He certainly set the mood for the remainder of the evening. It was a ballad called “All Things in Time.” It was moving, beautiful, understated and poignant - everything I love about JRB.
He then turned to greet us and was delightfully personable. He seems like the kind of guy you could sit down and have a chat with over coffee about anything at all. As the evening progressed he revealed more of his razor-ship wit and sarcastically dry, sometimes self-deprecating humor which made me love him all the more.
“Five o’ clock is such a weird time to have a concert. I’ll be warmed up by the time we’re done.” He did sound a little bit hoarse during his first song and he realized it, but he only got better and better and better and better.
During one of my favorite songs from Songs for a New World called “She Cries,” he messed up the lyrics in the first chorus and stopped, kept vamping, and turned to the audience and went on a two-minute digression about how he messed up the lyrics and told whoever was secretly videotaping this performance for youtube to please edit out the mistake. He had sung “She sings, well that’s the price you pay” when the words are “she sings, oh, she’s got you now for sure.” A humorous moment that delighted everyone in the audience.
He told us a story about one of his good female friends who begged him to write a song for her upcoming wedding. She begged and begged and begged, and he refused and refused and refused. And finally..”So she kept on asking and I kept on saying no, and she kept on asking and I kept on saying no, and she kept on asking and this is the song I wrote.”
It was absolutely beautiful. I wish I could remember all of the lyrics, and you won’t find it on Google or anywhere else but it was about ‘a long, long road you’re on, but you’re gonna be ok.’ Brown had been married before, and it did not end well, but this song was full of humble and compassionate advice - praising marriage for the grand adventure it is, without sugar-coating anything. It was honest. It was very real.
One of the livelier and more unexpected moments in the show was when, without any introduction, he rocked out on a jazzy riff and began to sing in a very Dean Martin-esque, gameshow host tone about Fabulous Las Vegas. Apparently, it’s the opening number of a new show he’s working on based on the 1993 film starring Nicolas Cage “Honeymoon in Vegas.” It’s unlike anything I’ve ever heard from Brown before and it really sounds like he’s coming into his own. He’s experimenting new with new styles and progressions, and he makes it so FUN. There was one terribly hilarious song called “I Should’ve Got Her Out of the Sun” sung by the character Tommy “Sandwich” (his last name is Focaccia) which starts out as a tragic ballad; an old man lamenting the loss of his love, until you realize she was an avid fake-baker with ‘the skin of an aligator’ and had, (presumably) died from skin cancer. Hilarious, unexpected. Delightful. I can’t wait for the rest of the music.
“This is my last song of the night before my encore.”
Brown busts into “Moving Too Fast” and hits every single note. This man is incredible. For his encore, he played the beautiful song from his solo album, “Someone to Fall Back On.” I’ve been listening to that song every day on my iPod and I have decided I liked it better live. His performance was emotionally charged, he really loves his music. It was an absolute delight and pleasure to share the evening with him and his music. So, all in all, it was one of the most enjoyable and meaningful musical evenings I’ve experienced in a long, long time.
Thanks, JRB. :)
I may not be your biggest fan..But I’m pretty close.