John Legend An Evening of Songs and Stories ends its two-night engagement in Manila today, 7 p.m., Rockwell Proscenium Theater, Makati.
John Legend can talk as well, almost as well, as he sings. And that was how he gave us an enriching evening Thursday at Rockwell Proscenium Theater. We were prepared to sit back and enjoy just his songs that helped define a music era, but, surprise, beyond that, we became so engrossed and engaged listening to the story (ies) of his life.
John Legend An Evening of Songs and Stories—the hottest (and priciest) ticket in town this week—lived up to its title, and how. That Legend voice still enthralls, but so do his stories. He can make storytelling with his audience seem quite intimate that it’s perfect for the Proscenium Theater—and for the well-heeled cognoscenti that is the community of Rockwell, the standard-setting lifestyle development in Metro Manila.
While we have cursory knowledge of the life story of this music icon—and his songs have become memory markers in many lives the world over—still we didn’t know those details he shared about a life with humble beginnings and awe-inspiring achievements. That night, John Legend shared not only his music but also his character. It’s a character rooted in the spiritual, thanks to a family whose life centered on the community church, or in values that must be considered an abstraction in a hedonistic music industry.
No wonder, his voice has remained as rich and strong through the decades, we told ourselves; it must be because he’s been brought up on the path of self-discipline and a sense of purpose, quite the anti-thesis of celebrityhood and rock-stardom.
As soon as he sat at the piano, the first keys opening up the packed theater, he played his well-loved hit, Save Room. The legend was clearly out to establish familiarity with Manila, when he said, Hello Manila!; we thought his conversation would be limited to that. We couldn’t have been more wrong.
He segued to a more upbeat Green Light, the audience singing along intermittently. With the audience now in the palm of his hand, he began his story: how he and his siblings were home-schooled in their home in Springfield, Ohio, how he grew up singing in church in a family whose life was spent around the church community, how this close-knit world collapsed upon the death of his maternal grandmother. This loss caused his mother’s life to spiral into depression and addiction.
He did a song by Stevie Wonder, his idol—Ribbon in the Sky.
He talked about his life as an A-list, self-driven student, from high school to the University of Pennsylvania, as a management graduate, and post-college, as management consultant with the prestigious Boston Consultancy firm. Yes, he said, he knew spreadsheets, Excel, PowerPoint, and such. But through the Ivy League years and corporate life, he never let go of his passion, music, and finally his big breaks. And how John R. Stevens became John Legend.
He sounded proud to say his mother is back with him. In truth, his mother flew with him to Manila.
How poignant it was when he sang Here Comes the Sun.
That night he played the songs—those lyrics of authentic emotions—that powered up his storytelling even more. If his songs bore vulnerability and empathy, his storytelling had with and self-deprecating humor, that you couldn’t but get engaged.
The audience got their fill of John Legend hits such as Ordinary People (the one true favorite of my friend Annie Ringor, whose cheer and applause no doubt were heard in the hall), All of Me, Let’s Get Lifted, Stay With You. In some of them he asked the audience to sing along because Manila is “the karaoke capital of the world.”
We came away from Proscenium not only re-knowing that timeless music, but also knowing a timeless man.
