Reaching right to the soul

Each year, people from all over the world would travel to a tiny village of Modena in the north of Italy, for the Pavarotti and Friends concert. This came to an end with the great tenor's passing away. But in a few years, people will resume their annual trip for a classical-meets-pop festival, this time to our tiny rock.

The Calleja and Bolton concert on Sunday was almost like déjà vu. There was something in the air, that feeling of je ne sais quoi which swept everyone away in a collective feeling of pleasant intoxication.

And you get the feeling that this was but a dress rehearsal for the concerts in years to come. This year cheap-ish standing tickets were made available and it's a credit to none other than Mr Calleja who has clearly made it his mission to promote classical music and make it accessible to people from all walks of life: it's one small step for Calleja, one giant leap for Maltesekind, to paraphrase Neil Armstrong's legendary words.

And let's keep in mind that Mr Calleja is only 30. Jesus. To achieve such dizzying heights on the international scene at such a young age and then tackle it with such insight and good humour is something I find incredulous. Where does he get the wisdom from? Probably in his place I would be spending my summer break on a beach in Honolulu and/or designer shopping in the avenues of New York.

I watched the concert among the standing crowd, not because I am broke (which, erm, I am) but principally because I think there is no better place to experience a concert.

In my book, a concert is not about sitting there in the chair, nodding and politely applauding, it's a two-way interaction - it's about getting carried away, moving your body to the music, singing along and bursting into euphoric clapping and shouts of encores.

The crowd at the back sang the Ave Maria with Mr Calleja; shouted "Go Gillian!" over and over at the end of her Babbino Caro; kept tempo to the Malta Philharmonic Orchestra's rendition of Bizet's Carmen; took over Mr Bolton's refrain in When a Man loves a Woman; sang Ivan's Marigold lyrics 'Take my hand/ don't be sad/You're so fine/ You're beautiful' in one voice; uttered oohs and aahs at the magical blend of Chiara's and Calleja's voices; and held its breath with Calleja's rendition of Puccini's Nessun Dorma - on his last vincero! the standing crowd leapt and erupted in a crazy elation. Perfect. Just perfect.

The standing crowd is the pulse of a concert, which is why I think in the coming years, the seating/standing layout needs some re-thinking. I've been to several concerts abroad (rock, pop, classical, what have you) and the standing area is never at the back of the arena.

You want the most enthusiastic people right at the front - or perhaps not to upset the platinum ticket holders, at the sides of the front. Because really, the standing crowd should be much more crowded. We need more families and more young people to flock to experience the delight of live classical music.

The very same Luxol Ground has seen thousands more people at mass meetings during election times. Why should people turn up to listen to a bunch of cranky politicians and not a feel-good stellar tenor?

We have to work hard at it, collectively as a nation, this awareness of music exposure. Thinking about it, there's a certain lack of music in our streets: us being Mediterranean, we should have more of it in our blood and less of the crass ditties by Triccas and his like, pumping away in cars-cum-mobile-discos. It's certainly not because of lack of talent. Christ Almighty, we are but a dot in the world, a mere 400,000 people, and yet we keep churning out amazing talents.

Can you imagine the ripple effect if we were all more in tune, so to say? Classical music is such an important basis for the appreciation of true beauty. It fills our senses, goes beyond our mind and heart, and reaches right to the soul. The more we are exposed to it, the more we approach life with an eagerness for beauty, and surely that can only make Malta a better place.