Broken Music: 2005/06

Meeting Sting: 'Completely normal, like a neighbor'...

Entering Viru Keskus, music fills your ears - Sting. Sting looks back from the posters. Today, he meets his Estonian admirers for the first time - good old Sting!

Gordon Matthew Thomas Sumner's handshake is soft and friendly. He looks deeply into their eyes and writes a large, winding autograph in his book ''Broken Music''. Gordon is calm, does not seem bored. As if he were an old acquaintance to us, Estonians. He is familiar, only from the stage and in pictures - there he calls himself Sting.

The importance of the situation is not forgotten by the dozens of photographers, cameramen, journalists, who are watching Sting's every move. ''The corner of the bookstore where Sting sits, behind an antique desk, is practically white,'' Vahur Kersna describes the scene to those who are still waiting for their turn outside. There, in the endless queue, on the Hämariku Square in Viru Keskus, the rest of Sting's fans are stampeding from foot to foot. Everyone has a book in their hands with a childhood photo of the celebrity on the front cover.

Half an hour earlier: Gunnar is standing at the front of the queue. He leans against the wall (to hold on tightly to his leadership position) and reads ''Broken Music''. He's currently on page 74. ''I'll be waiting here at half past eleven,'' he says briskly. He doesn't plan to say anything to the star when he meets Sting. Maybe just say hello. The book should be a useful read in any case.

It's 1:40 p.m. Vahur Kersna starts to inform the people in the queue: ''Sting landed in Tallinn about an hour and a half ago. He went to the hotel, washed himself, combed his hair. And now he's on his way to Viru Keskus.'' The spirit of life returns to the people who have been sitting on the stone for an hour.

In Uleva, Rahva Raamat, the British star's area has already been separated with plastic tape. Never before have so many salespeople been seen behind the counter of a bookstore. ''I have a day off today. I came to work anyway, I wanted to see Sting,'' laughs saleswoman Pille, amused. Her older colleague admits that they have to thank God that they work here today. They won't miss an autograph either. Pille explains how: ''The paw is in!''

Sting steps out from around the corner. With a calm walk, a gentle smile - and disappears again. He signs 50 autographs in books for the publisher, drinks a cup of tea (allegedly black with honey), eats fruit on the side.

Kersna enlightens those interested: ''He should give about three hundred autographs in that hour. It takes about four seconds to sign one autograph.''

Sting settles comfortably at the table, licks his lips and starts signing autographs.

''Please take a picture of me! Take a picture of me, please!'' a woman in a pink shirt begs her friend and steps up to the star's table. Two seconds - and the happy moment is over. She steps away from the table, her face beaming with happiness: ''Ouch...''

Kersna: ''In the meantime, there were problems with the amplifier. Sting even pointed out that in such noise, no one can sign autographs for an hour.'' Now the room is quieter. A few cries of joy can be heard, people are talking quietly to each other. ''Screak''... suddenly so loud that people cover their ears with their hands. A few more times the equipment decides to shut down. ''Ouch,'' Sting says only after that.

Our neighbors from Latvia have also traveled here - to get an autograph for a book and watch the concert. ''We really hope that this book will be translated into Latvian one day,'' the young people say in unison.

Gunnar says that he didn't feel any discomfort when he met Sting. ''Completely normal, like a neighbor,'' he smiles. The book is going to his daughter as a gift: ''I'll take it to her right away, to work. She has a special bookshelf.''

There were many who were left behind. They didn't get to see Sting this time. The last in line, the Polish Andrei, is not sad: ''I've already seen five Broken Music Tour concerts. Today I'm going to your concert, tomorrow to Riga and the day after tomorrow to Vilnius.'' He admits that he actually got an autograph. He just tried to get it again with a second go.

A reggae song like Sting - and even the most respectable Nordic audience melted

Let's imagine: Saku Suurhall in the evening, an excited audience is bustling around, the air is filled with the smell of soft popcorn, beer and music. In a few more minutes, the world's most beloved musician - Sting - will take the stage.

No, I was wrong. First, Sting's son comes to warm up the audience. Or rather, his band Fiction Plane. The audience doesn't know what to expect. They just stand there and stare. The tiny Joseph Somner stomps his foot on the ground and the young Brits start to attack.

The guys from Fiction Plane are so into their music - they don't care if the audience is awkward. A few songs are over and it's hard not to be in the mood. Even going crazy for good music. This star's son Joseph has a powerful voice. ''People, welcome Lyle - he's the guitarist for the next band. I don't know what the band is called,'' he laughs.

In any case, Fiction Plane can be happy - they got a whole bunch of fans from Estonia today. ''Can we come back next year?'' they dare to ask before leaving the stage. ''Yes!'' they are answered. ''I think we will!''

A short pause. The thirsty audience quickly brings beer. They then sip it unsuspectingly for a while, when suddenly - bang - everything is dark - then stark white -, here he stands - Sting himself!

His voice is hypnotizing as he begins: 'If I Ever Lose My Faith In You...' Sting is wearing dull-colored clothes, a face devoted to music on his head. ''Thank you! How are you doing?'' he is interested. Of course, everyone is doing very well at that moment.

Well, well, he invites the audience to join in with his right hand. And he sings. But he doesn't leave the audience alone - he wants everyone to sing. A reggae song comes out, just like Sting.

'Englishman in New York' and the young lad in front of the stage must shout with joy: ''This is the only song I know!'' Together with his girlfriend, they dance on with pleasure.

Meanwhile, it seems as if the round-faced drummer will immediately fly into several pieces - he plays music so well and lively.

''One, two, three, four,'' Sting shouts, and begins: ''Every Little Thing She Does is Magic''. This man's voice is so powerful that a chill runs up my spine. ''Thank you, Estonia,'' he caresses the Estonians: ''Es-to-ni-aaa.'' The men take the women in their arms, the children huddle closer.

Sting steps forward, strumming his guitar deftly. A second guitarist steps up and plays lower notes. A third comes and plays two long notes. A magnificent guitar trio emerges. A song so powerful that the grandma in the audience faints. The team will deliver it.

'Roxanne' and 'Fragile' and many other good classics will be heard tonight. Finally, 'Every Breath You Take'. Whoever is still sitting, gets up. They dance themselves to the point of exhaustion, they live it up, they feel free. I don't think you see a solid, not very young Estonian audience like this very often. No one holds back anymore. And if you close your eyes, you can hear that Sting doesn't hold back his voice either. The Nordic audience has melted.

(c) AS SL õõthleht by Marian Männi