a man & his guitar

When lights dim, there's an inkling sense of anticipation. Just like at the movies, you're entire body vibrates with a sense of excitement and eagerness for what's to come.

The lights dimmed at Knox United Church. The sun had finally set and had slowly faded from illuminating the stained glass windows. Once again, the vaulted ceilings held secrets of voices carried and amplified and knew the work in front of them tonight.

The Tallest Man stood on stage in a humble pose with his hands together near his heart. Outstretched his arms and moved towards his acoustic guitar as if it was a lifeline. He snugged the strap on his shoulder and between his shoulder blades. The stage offered no support but one single amplifier, a microphone stand and the treasure trove of guitars.

A lo-fi recording cannot hold the soul, passion, heart, pain and strength that this man possesses in his voice. Pacing somewhat frantically while playing, almost indecisive to which angle of the crowd he wanted to focus on, he was always brought back magnetically to the single microphone where he projected his stories. His trained fingers glided effortlessly across strings, plucking away notes as he simultaneously plucked at hundreds of willing hearts in the crowd. Pouring out stories that needed no words to explain their plot or intent. He drew as much power from his six-string companions as he did his own voice, often losing himself in the melancholy of heartbreak and hope. Pressing his lips to his microphone as he would a comforting lover; his voice shook, screamed, croaked, rose, fell and swept through the brick and mortar of the church. People of every age sitting in the pews needed no religion to sense the transcendence of his voice into their heart. A faith of music and communal awe bonded together over 300 people.

Nervous & genuine laughter was exchanged throughout the night from one man to an entire city. At one time, jumping from the stage to run the length of the pews in the church to see 'just how far back they went' to get a grasp of how many people were listening, ears and hearts open. His stage banter was at times mumbled, but always understood through the reciprocity of love. He would alternate between facing every single row of pews and resting for but a moment on a single metal chair before being pulled towards the microphone again. At times losing select words from a song written long ago, or accidentally finding his guitar no longer attached to the vein of noise to his amp, the simple mistakes only added to his effortless humility and charm.

Clapping and shouts of encouragement crescendoed at any moment of prolonged silence in a minute attempt to express how grateful we were for his honesty and pure love for music. A throng of local Calgarians gathered just outside the doors of Knox United Church, connecting in the community of music and amazement. Someone could say that we had all just exited a sermon of sorts, all having experienced personal revelations which we found almost impossible to vocalize. The groups thinned as friends left arm in arm, or setting feet in the trusted pedals of their bikes. Traveling away into the night, hearts full and open to simple beauties, or dreaming of being the King of Spain.

{Brieanne Elise}