BETH PALMER (journalism student) writes:
New white candles flame in dried pools of wax, but there isn’t enough light to capture the concierto on camcorder.
The camcorder could show my absent roommates the magic of Radaid, a young Mexican quartet composed of a breathtaking vocalist and inspiringly talented violinist, percussionist, and guitarist. Radaid sounds like a finely produced independent movie soundtrack as their instruments send Indian and techno-sounding vibrations bouncing around the high azul ceilings and tiled archways of Haus der Kunst – a trendy café and modern art gallery owned by a German native, but 20-year Guadalajara resident, named Helmut.
The violinist stands back in the shadows from his mates; the tight-jeaned male guitarist doubles as a second percussionist and the curly black-haired female percussionist play a variety of hand drums held between her knees. She wears a white ring for a hard rapping sound and shakes tambourines and bead-filled gourds. The vocal range of a large German opera star floats from the singer’s rail-thin 20-something frame.
Her pure ancient voice cuts into the diners’ friendly chatter.
Silence.
No one looks at each other; everyone stares with inquisition at the source of the angel-soul-toned song. Even the lovers who were nose and nose, lips to lips, have parted.
Although completely blind, this woman received a double-strength larynx from God in exchange for her fifth sense.
And I thought she was the star.
But the violinist stepped forward from the shadow and his bow became a teetering blur and his strings sang.
I was in love with him before we left.
Posted by awiens at July 18, 2007 4:08 PM
