It was a not so early August Friday morning. I was still in my bed lazily snoozing my alarm clock and browsing the web on my smartphone. In these days the majority of us do it. But I could compare it to a morning newspaper reading - it's the only newspaper time I have, while still in bed.
The article that a famous pianist is coming to Lithuania for a jazz festival, made me jump out of bed, run to computer and order a ticket. I didn't read properly when it's going to happen, I just knew that the prices of the tickets will go up very quickly or there might be no tickets at all if I delay my purchase. Well, as it has turned out, the concert is going to happen in December and that famous pianist is Omar Sosa. The first piece of him that I listened to was Toridanzon and it made me fall in love with his music. The very first notes of it covered my skin in goose bumps and carried my imagination away to a sudden summer rain with thunder. And every time I listed to it it still does so. So, there is no surprise that I somehow jumped out of the bed and was in the process of buying an expensive ticket.
Yesterday, the 18th of December was a day of his concert for Kaunas Jazz festival final concert of the year. I left from work earlier, rode to Vilnius(even stuck at the traffic jam) and there I was sitting in the front rows waiting for the magic to start. Usually in concerts, a pianist would be dressed in a black suit and even if his hands would become crazy in some moments, all his posture posture would remain straight and the rest of the body would be calm. When you come to a concert of Omar Sosa, you have to leave your attitude at home.
He walked into scene wearing white robes and somewhat futuristic hat, carrying a candle and some sort of an amulet in his hands. Some little rituals he made at the keyboard section(I don't know how to call a set of grande piano with 2 more large electric piano keyboards and one smaller one) and then he touched the keys. There was the magic happening right in front of me ten meters away. Other musicians walked into the scene one after another bringing a new musical layer for the song they were playing. Note after note it made me believe that I'm sitting somewhere else but the concert hall in Lithuania. It could have been Cuba or other warm island, showered in a light rain interchanging with the rays of sun. Extremely long musical pieces combining latin rhythms(of cha cha cha, son montuno), wild jazz and nostalgic piano solos nailed the audience to their seats, while the musicians were going wild on the scene. I admit I wanted to jump and start dancing to those rhythms. But being jailed in the middle of the seat row made it impossible to do so. And while this was a perfect place for listening and observation it was the worst place in this concert for me.
In this two hour concert I forgot that it was the middle of December outside, just a week before Christmas, that there was no snow outside, it was windy and foggy with a light drizzle. The days were short and it was dark outside and our streets were lit with cheap Christmas decorations. No, my heart became warm not because of them, but because of the light I found in the music that evening.
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