State Amphitheater
A city of citizens, as they say, or a sea of humanity. Some things needn't be described but rather must be felt. The ground vibrating underfoot, loudspeakers suspended across the stage blaring away. Music makes the people come together, a singer once sang. Music will save the world, a writer once wrote. Lofty ambitions, when it's just as easy to listen to the music entirely alone, for free, beyond the tall metal gates of the state amphitheater. Or you pay to enter, pay to inhabit a space, to absorb the sounds, mainly to be a part of one large moving body comprised of many moving bodies. What is art? What does art do? Is art free? Does being forced to pay for art negate its creative values and its artistic aspirations? These are all important questions for you to explore, for you to think about alone, inside your own mind. The band stood on the stage, performing to the letter its applauded routine. The larger-than-life jukebox lights flashed red and blue and gold and green all around them. The band looked out at the audience, at the thousands of hands holding aloft their bright white cell phone flashlights. The singer gazed directly at the human bridge of swaying lights, the distant upturned faces spread out before him, and he sang into the microphone the choral refrain of his band's biggest hit: I wanna know what love is. I want you to show me.
Beautiful! You capture the feeling of a concert so well.
ReplyDeleteYou are so kind, my friend! Thank you. 💙
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