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More than a week has passed, but the talk of the
town continues to be the Beyoncé concert held at the
Millennium Concert Hall on October 12. I went to the
event fully prepared to criticise because I was sure
beyond a shadow of a doubt that the whole thing
would be déclassé.
I
hold to that stance fully, save for the two hours
that the young diva was on stage. Let me walk you
through the Beyoncé Experience.
I
was annoyed the entire day that I would have to be
attending the concert, as I am not a big fan of
Beyoncé, although the idea of seeing Ludacris that
evening did put silver lining in that cloud. More
importantly, I was fully aware of the sort of the
people that were her fans, and I did not look
forward to having to spend an evening with a bunch
of high school students and wanna-be hip-hoppers.
To make my fears even worse, as the day was going
on, I got more than one phone call from people
asking me if I was interested in buying tickets. By
the time the evening rolled around they were going
for half price or less.
In route to the Africa Avenue (Bole Road) venue in
my car, what would normally have been a 15 minute
ride in even the worst traffic ended up turning into
a 45 minute fiasco where the people stuck in the
traffic were honking their horns so loudly and for
so long that we sounded like we were making our own
music. Of course, as is the logic when building any
structure in this country, parking for the masses
was not taken into consideration, and I was forced
to park at the very edge of Medhanialem Cathedral. I
was aggravated receiving phone calls from inside the
concert hall of people asking me where I was.
Thinking it would take me less time to take a cab to
the entrance rather than to walk, I hailed one,
hopped in and told the driver to step on the gas and
get me to the closest entrance available. In all his
haste, he decided that he wanted to get in a car
accident, and it took me even longer than I had
anticipated getting to the hall. After the cab got
me as far as he could, I had to walk the rest of the
way.
This is where the real Beyoncé experience began for
me. I walked for about three-fourths of a kilometre,
and the only people that were around me were high
school students; loud, obnoxious, dressed like they
had just hopped out of the music video of the latest
teen idol. I felt old and completely out of place.
When the hordes of teenagers and I arrived at the
entrance, we were ushered in by a reasonably quick
and efficient security staff that was the last
barrier between me and what at first struck me as
one of the most appalling scenes I had ever seen in
my life. The exterior of the hall was swarming with
people, some eating some just hanging out, others
waiting on their friends. However, what caught my
attention at first glance was that half the women
who had decided to attend the event were not wearing
any clothes.
Perhaps living in Addis Abeba has made me more
conservative than I used to be, or maybe I am just
getting old, but there was enough skin being shown
by the women to cause another Sodom and Gomorrah -
were we not living in the 21st century.
My first hour or so was spent trying to figure out
what in the world people were thinking. I was upset
at many of the women for choosing such skimpy and
degrading outfits. And then there were so many kids
under the age of 15 with their hip-hop attire and
their cell phones stuck to their ears speaking in
Ebonics to the friends that they could not find in
the expansive space. I was horrified that this
generation of Ethiopian children have been spoiled
to the point that their parents are spending 1,000
Br to send them to a potentially corrupting place to
watch a foreign music act.
I
consider myself a spoiled brat, but there was no way
that my parents would have ever let me have such an
experience at such an age, whether or not they could
have afforded it. And then to have me supplied with
a cell phone and a chaperon as was the requirement
was something that was beyond comprehension to my
archaic brain.
Before I was even done contemplating the state of
modern Ethiopian parenting, I began to realise that
there were just as many adults in the hall who were
as excited and childlike as the kids who had
appalled me. The baby-boomers were out in full
force, jamming and grooving to the music just as
hard as their kids. Shaking my head in dismay, I
waited impatiently for the main attraction to come
on the stage so I could watch what I came there for
and get it over with.
Finally, the DJ that had been a pain to my ears
asked if the crowd was ready for Beyoncé. When
people heard the question, they began to rush the
stage in hopes of getting a good spot to watch. You
could smell the anticipation in the air, with all
those people holding their breath waiting for the
black curtain to come up from in front of the stage.
I
went to this concert fully prepared not to be wowed
by this pop star of our time. I am neither a fan nor
a follower of her career, although Destiny's Child's
first album, The Writings on the Wall, does
have sentimental value for me. When the curtain
finally went down, there Beyoncé was surrounded by
an all-female band wearing an outfit that could be
seen six miles off, standing on a very large and
very expensive stage.
The light system was spectacular, the lighting
technicians that were handling the system throughout
the two-hour show did a fabulous job and the
techniques that they used added immensely to a
well-rehearsed and very well-coordinated show. I had
expected a lot of extravagance, and more lip-syncing
than actual singing to take place.
Much to my surprise, not only did Beyoncé sing the
entire two hours, but she did it accompanied by a
spectacular band that 'put it down'. Granted there
was an impressive sound system that let the audience
hear all the music with crystal clear clarity, but
the woman for whom I had no fondness when I walked
in impressed me beyond measure when she showed that
she could shake her behind that hard and sing
beautifully while doing it. To add glitz to glamour,
there were two gigantic screens hanging on either
side of the stage just to make sure that you would
not miss a moment of what was going on.
Her all-female band included a list of eccentric
characters, from a blond dread head to a tattooed
rocker guitar player that had a killer afro. Two
drummers and two pianists performed solos while the
diva was off to change from one shiny sexy outfit to
the next, but the girls with the guitars did their
parts to fill in those gaps magnificently.
Her dancers, only four of which were male, were also
a mixture of races and added spunk and colour to
their roles. If there was any way that I could keep
one of those four boys up there doing what it is
that they did so well, I would. The female dancers
also had an opportunity to show off their individual
assets when they too were given the opportunity to
do amusing and very alluring solos during, of
course, costume changes.
When all these aspects, the well controlled lights,
high-definition sound, well-executed costume
changes, carefully studied choreography and
eye-catching outfits were put together, they had the
crowd frenzied.
When the act began, I was standing towards the
middle of the hall, able to see both the stage and
large screen. As the show went on, all one and a
half metres of me was pushed by the will and force
of the crowd almost to the front. I kept looking at
everyone around me and it was as though something
had come over them, and there was nothing that they
could do to control themselves.
People were enthralled; they were screaming,
jumping, crying and singing along. For a moment it
looked like the scene that we used to witness on
television when Michael Jackson was singing in the
80s. It was beyond description.
I
do not think that Beyoncé was prepared for the
reception and adoration that she received while she
was performing. She cried while singing two ballads
and her tears could be seen clearly glistening on
the big screens. She even made it a point to tell
the audience that it was one of the best that she
had performed for throughout her entire career.
At the end of her scintillating performance, she
thanked the audience and brought out her dancers and
band. She then proceeded to acknowledge that this
was a special year for the country and that she and
her crew would like to celebrate it with the people.
Beyoncé then played Teddy Afro's new hit "Abebayehoy"
and drove the crowd to insanity.
To my amusement, she and her dancers danced
eskesta along with the crowd that had gone so
wild that they did not even notice when all those
people left the stage, nor when some of them came
back to take pictures of the chaos.
Before the concert, I thought it was overly
extravagant to bring such an act to this country and
spend all that money that could have been used for
better purposes like health, education or
infrastructure just so Addis Abeba could be a venue
that Beyoncé has played. After seeing the effect
that those two hours had on the crowd and the sheer
joy that was on the faces of the people, I say money
well spent.
With the intoxicating mood and the contagious joy of
the people, I forgave all the nudity, youngsters and
drunks and hummed Dangerously in Love all the
way home.
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