Sold-out Sting and Shaggy concert at the Roman Theatre: a joyful and warm breeze…
Yesterday, Monday, July 16th, was the night of reunions. Three years without the Roman Theatre, three years without Sting.
Full stands, a smell of warm stone, and an echo of ragga in the basements.
We don't immediately recognize Sting. We're surprised by this hint from elsewhere, by these unexpected accents… inevitably, the reunion is timid, tentative. We're getting to know each other.
And yet he's definitely there. Still as straight, still as blond. He has a presence that others don't have. He's confident, and we have to let ourselves be taken in.
"Don't make me wait too long, too long to love you." "If there were any doubts during the first songs, a joyful, warm wind—called a sirocco—carries us away and fills the mainsail: here they are, casting off.
The captain is sometimes black, sometimes white.
The destination? Universalism (Shaggy will never stop repeating this). We must let go and let ourselves be carried away.
We're aiming for the shores of this kingdom that still exists, where English and Jamaican accents are indistinguishable, because they are sung, where continents mingle, and where the history of the two nations fades away.
The kingdom where "Shape of My Heart" finally has a new look, because the heart in question is divided: today it has black blood in it.
On these shores, on this July night, we can see actors playing and then just acting.
We can see the choirs taking centre stage.
Finally, a perfect black-white parity, which doesn't stem from any patronizing obligation, but rather from a friendship, a certain complicity that we can feel from the fourth floor.
This kingdom is made by them. "There is yet another kingdom"... as long as they sing.
Yesterday was an evening of reunions, of discoveries; and to my great pleasure, this is only the beginning...
(c) Vivre-Villes
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