I was serenaded by Brian Stokes Mitchell.Broadway leading man, dreamy baritone with the power to melt a thousand women with his voice, Brian Stokes Mitchell.
And now I know what heaven sounds like.
It was the opening of his concert in Syracuse. A trio band of piano, bass guitar and drums began the first notes, quick beats in succession, a happy number. Then the spotlight lit on a man in a lilac suit, who smiled at the audience as he walk out from stage right towards stage left.
He stopped to where I was sitting in the audience.
looked at me, I looked at him and the first words from his mouth were:
He stopped to where I was sitting in the audience.
looked at me, I looked at him and the first words from his mouth were:
"Some enchanted evening, You may see a stranger,
Across a crowded room..."
Is he really looking at me?
"And somehow you know, You know even then
That somewhere you'll see her again and again"
After all, I had told him during our 40-minute interview that the Carnegie Hall "South Pacific" concert was the first thing I saw him in. And he opened his concert in Syracuse with it.
"And somehow you know, You know even then
That somewhere you'll see her again and again"
After all, I had told him during our 40-minute interview that the Carnegie Hall "South Pacific" concert was the first thing I saw him in. And he opened his concert in Syracuse with it.
I think I must have had a smiled pasted to my face the entire time.
When he sang about having "Love for Sale," I was very tempted to take him up on the offer. I like jazz, he likes jazz, it would have been fun. Sadly, he's married with a son, one who he sang a song, "First Words" to and I sadly remembered then that damn, this is a family man.
Sure, the trio was a tad loud in places, so much so that I could only make out the lyrics because I knew them so well. And because Stokes' (as he likes to be called) voice naturally projects over anything.
But I heard Brian Stokes Mitchell sing, sans microphone, do a version of "This Nearly Was Mine" that almost made me weep. Man is a showoff but he is so adorable and personable doing it that I don't mind. And I crumpled over in my seat laughing when he channeled Kermit the Frog in "Bein' Green." It's okay Stokes, I'd (and all the other females in the audience) would still love you even if you were the color of Elphaba from "Wicked."
He even made the "Soliloquy" from "Carousel" bearable. If he had played Billy Bigelow, I may enjoy that show a lot more. And that is how you know you're in the presence of a consummate Broadway performer. Even though he had never played the role on stage before, for 6 minutes, he was Billy and I felt his joy and then dejection at the thought of having a son, then a daughter.
And his pianist, Ted Firth, was perfection, keeping in time on such a difficult tune. I could have done with an evening of just the two of them, serenading me with show-tunes and songbooks-tunes together. As well as a dash of "Waters of March" with Stokes playing a harmonica (?) and singing parts of it in Spanish.
It was made all the better by the fact that Stokes himself was as personable and warm in person as he was on the phone, glowing at the reception and saying "It is warm in Syracuse." He bashfully gave the audience a rousing encore of "The Impossible Dream" from "Man of La Mancha" (like he was not going to sing that at a concert).
Yes, even though it's still winter, for that evening, it was warm, made all the more perfect by the fact that I met Stokes himself afterward. He signed my program and I got a photo. And what was more perfect was that he remembered my name from the interview we did.
It was definitely an enchanted evening.
Let's pretend that I'm a redhead with an Arkansas accent, and ignore the fact that Stokes kind of looks like a waiter here.
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