from No Rush For Gold:
One evening João Gilberto came to him. The auditorium could seat a few thousand and around it was a massive lawn where people sat on blankets for a picnic and music without a view of the stage. All these people…Are they really here to listen or for a sandwich and wine and to chat with their friends?
The musician exits the train which took him directly to the locale and winds through the lawn looking and thinking…I…am going to see João Gilberto. I am actually…going to see João Gilberto…He tries to prepare himself because he is not alert enough. He wants to catch every movement, every moment. This day has been longed for a long time. Is he ready?
He looks around and through people to see everything—João might be outside somewhere. He would not be having a smoke because he does not smoke, but maybe he is outside somewhere. But there is no one other than the anonymous many uncorking their wine, laughing, kissing.
The auditorium is sprawled wide to allow no one seated to be too far from the stage and with its roof supported by pillars in place of walls, the late summer freshens the air inside. The vibe here is different from the lawn. Those who have arrived are sitting facing the stage, quieter, more concentrated. It is as if they are awaiting the performing of a sacred act. The musician likes this better. I must not be the only one for whom João means so much—he thinks. And he walks to and takes his seat far left of the stage, on the aisle, ten rows back.
From here he looks around at the people seated…I’d rather be alone but you all look all right…And he looks at the stage—João Gilberto’s chair, his two microphones, his fall-back speaker…I have to do it…
He leaves his seat, walks down the aisle, around the front row, and stops directly in front of João Gilberto’s chair. João Gilberto’s chair! Waiting for him! Here he will sit when he sings! He leans in and looks closer to remember every detail. Then he leans in further and reaches out as far as he can with his hands…and snaps a picture. Relaxed, he looks again at his chair and the whole set-up and returns to his seat, casually. I am ready for him.
The lights dim over a full house and the crowd waiting is almost done waiting…The anticipation…It is coming…A man steps out…A welcome of applause, shouts, and whistles loud enough to destroy a man erupts from the audience and João Gilberto deliberately walks through what he has created with his shy three-quarters smile. His guitar hangs from his hand, no case, just a guitar and he walks calmly and easily like a man of thirty years even though he is more than twice that. His sway is of youth and health—they know they are in for a good one. And the people quiet down almost to a silence to let the man sit and adjust the microphones, one over the guitar, one over his voice…Good evening…Again the crowd erupts but for a shorter duration and again fades back to a silence. They want to hear music, not applause. And we are waiting, give us anything João. We love you.
He fine tunes a couple notes—they hold their breath. He adjusts his seat—they sit up in theirs. When comfortable, he picks a soft chord—they are anxious. Then with his soft voice…
“Aaah…”
And he goes into Saudade da Bahia, the Longing for Bahia. The crowd longs for Bahia and anything else João tells them to do because they are in his world. The sun does not burn, the night is not cold—everything is perfect. The musician leans forward and stares…I have seen him in pictures, I have seen him walk, I have seen him sit, and now I see him sing, from this man, this body, comes my favorite sound, from him comes the most beautiful thing in this world, not from a record, not from a speaker, from him, I can see his lips and his fingers move, I can see where it comes from, and he is making it for me…The musician, leaning forward and staring, would cry if he were in his body but he is not, he is in the music.
Then the song finishes. Again the crowd attacks with their approval, loud and snapping as if each person hopes that he will hear their particular clap and João Gilberto rides the wave and wake without a word, just his small timid smile. He loves to play and we love to listen.
With little delay he goes into another song and works his way through his classic recordings and others less known as well as new pieces not yet heard. João Gilberto gives all generations a chance. He plays compositions by the older composers, his own generation, and the new ones as well. In one show you hear the history of samba and bossa nova up to the modern day and the crowd loves it. After every piece the applause is quick and fierce as if they cannot wait for the song to finish so they can tell him how much they love him and the quieter he plays, the louder they applaud. They want to shatter windows with their thunder and João just smiles into the storm. And he goes into another…
“Wonderful, marvelous, that you care for me…”
The musician came alone but around him is a crowd of couples. Everywhere in this Gershwin love song are lovers leaning their heads towards each other. Everything is all right, love is perfect, and everyone is in love. And the musician is in love too. It is wonderful, it is marvelous.
And João finishes the song and a few more and leaves. He only spoke two words that were not sung and now he is gone. The crowd is stunned…How can this moment end? And they call him back with the loudest applause yet. Three times they call him back and he returns, he is the king, and he plays for his people and those waiting ears open for him. Where would we be without him. So one more, please one more, always give us one more so that we may never know. But the three encores run their course and he leaves and does not return having exhausted not his repertoire nor his voice or his hands but our voices and our hands having shouted and applauded so much.
The lights come on—well, back to life—and everyone leaves but the musician waits to be last…Maybe João will come out and have a look…But he cannot wait long or he will miss the train. Reluctantly he gets up and winds through the auditorium and lawn the long way hoping to see him. It was the greatest hour and forty-five minutes he has known. And to return to normal life, he boards the train.