by Renate

I had another highlight to look forward to. Fortunately, at the last minute Andrea had added one indoor concert to the German tour. At the very end there was an event scheduled Oberhausen's Arena on August 31. One more ultimate occasion to experience these overwhelming feelings again, which can't be oppressed, when you hear this unique voice on earth.

No need to struggle with the weather this time, but also no castle, no trees, no moon and no lightning, only the sober atmosphere of an ice-hockey sports arena. Don't ask me about the decoration, the people or the orchestra. My ears and eyes were all concentrated on this very tired looking man on the huge stage. No hello, no introduction again, he just began to sing. The sound was ten times better than at the three outdoor concerts I had visited before. The voice could enter the heart immediately, without being spread up into the air by the wind, without being vanquished by the dripping of the rain and without being disturbed by the moaning of the people in the backrows, who couldn't see the stage.

I was a bit distracted from listening though, by Andrea himself. This time was the first time he appeared on stage without a scarf. Oh, how he fiddled all the time at his pockets, at his sleeves, finally even at the collar of his tux. No Andrea, it doesn't help! There is no scarf this time! He surely must have suffered about that. When he returned on stage after the orchestral intermezzo of Puccini's "Manon Lescaut," there was the black and white checkered scarf around his neck again and his hands holding its ends. Finally. No more distraction from the voice.I enjoyed it, swallowed it up deep into my soul, well knowing that this was the last time for a while.



As it was the last concert, there was a surprise. Two conductors changed: Rota and Bernini. And for the first time, Andrea spoke to the audience at the end of the concert. In English he thanked the orchestra and all others who had been with him on this long tour, who had suffered "in the cold and in the rain, and he admitted that they were all very very tired now, longing to go back home.

That's how he is, this Andrea Bocelli: no pretenses, no keep-smilings, no false promises. He says it just the way he feels.

Maybe it is his honesty that raises his voice from the thousands other tenors' voices. Even when you're no specialist of music, if you don't know anything about high C's and strettas, you feel the honesty of that voice that comes right from the heart of a man, who never would sing well, what he didn't feel deep within.