...et ne se ressemblent pas.
What would make one forget one’s troubles with the Tax Office?
An evening with the serene Leonard Cohen.
He was at the Barbican on Saturday evening, in conversation with Philip Glass.
I was there.
It was even better than seeing Moses in the audience, that time, in the Barbican Pit.
He didn’t sing. He spoke. His voice has now become so low it’s practically inaudible. He recited a wonderful poem. He joked. He avoided answering the odd question.
The whole auditorium was filled with such love.
Later, we listened to Philip Glass’s musical settings of Leonard’s latest poems, Book of Longing, while the latter’s sketches and paintings were projected onto the back of the stage. The music was inspired (and inspiring) too and sometimes, even though it really bore no resemblance to the ex-monk’s own, it sounded like it could have been written by him.
I took a few pictures during the talk. Here is the only one that came out. I don’t need any other. I don’t need any at all. I’m not likely to ever forget that evening.
(The guy on the left is John L Walters of the Guardian.)