Rekiwi's Blog

I sat in a church for an hour and a half, barely able to breathe, tears filling my eyes.

Twelve voices enveloped me. The perfect sound blasted away any pretense or pose.

My cynicism could not withstand the onslaught. I was left bare.

Their music burnished my soul.

I went to Chanticleer's Christmas concert last Tuesday night at Mission Santa Clara de Asis on the University of Santa Clara campus.

I'd gone a few years ago and, sitting back in the general admission seating, I had heard the most beautiful music.

This year I was determined. I bought second-row tickets months and months in advance.

I recognized only a few pieces in their program. It didn't matter.

Chanticleer's 12 perfectly blended voices stunned and delighted. I've never heard so large a crowd stay so silent. Usually a cell phone brays or a sanitorium refugee hacks and coughs and breaks the spell. The magic went unbroken.

I remember watching Carl Sagan's "Cosmos" as a kid. The ideas and images filled me with wonder and awe. Chanticleer's music did the same. The universe can be a beautiful and wonderful place.

At the end, we all stood and clapped like mad. Their encore was a favorite of mine.

And then it was done.

Earlier in the evening, I recognized a woman from the gym. She sat in the front row and I rushed forward to introduce her to my family.

My wife tapped me on the shoulder and pointed out the singers emerging to meet and greet.

I saw Eric Alatorre walking towards me, he of the outrageously waxed mustache and foundation-quaking bass voice. He's sung with Chanticleer for 18 years, anchoring the group and shaking the walls with his impossibly deep, rich sound. Yes, he is a hero of mine.

I bowed to him, palms up in a Wayne's World "we're not worthy" manner. He chuckled and held out his hand. I took it and gave it a squeeze. All I could say was "Thank you so much."

I am in awe.