I’M ALWAYS looking for ways to reinvigorate myself when I’m on a performing spree. As I write, I’m in Southern California, getting ready to start hopping on tour stops until March 19. True, it isn’t a long touring period, and with planes, cars and hotels, each stop will feel like a blur.
Before I continue, here’s my remaining schedule, in case you happen to be in town and would like to catch my show: Today at McPhillips Street Station, Winnipeg, Manitoba; and March 19 at Horseshoe Casino in Hammond, IN.
My musical director here in the United States, Larry Yurman, and I got together before this little tour began, to figure out set lists for the performances (including for the Broad, which was going to be just piano and voice).
I was thankful for the few days’ break, as it allowed me to sit back and open my mind and heart to the world and discover sources of inspiration. I watched a couple of programs that my Aunt Marilynn recorded as part of PBS’ “Great Performances” series: “David Foster and Friends” and the “Les Miserables 25th Anniversary Concert.”
It was such a thrill to see Charice belt “All By Myself” to a crowd on its feet, admiring her talent; to see Ne-Yo’s fleeting feet and coolness factor; and the legendary Donna Summer singing “Last Dance.”
As for “Les Miz,” although I was a part of the show, seeing it on screen still sends me into orbit. Listening to Chris Jahnke’s incredible orchestrations, Alfie Boe’s “Bring Him Home,” Ramin Karimloo’s razor-sharp vocal quality and the Tricolore choir swaying side to side with “Master of the House” brought back a lot of great memories.
At the rehearsal for The Broad Stage concert, I was walking around on stage, singing along while Larry played. I could feel a sense of elation and glee rise within me. Perhaps this was the great inspiration of all, the knowledge that this was what I was put on earth to do.
<strong><em>Rest in peace</em></strong>
An old childhood friend passed away not too long ago. His name was Herman Atienza. We were classmates in OB Montessori from the first grade and remained so for a few years.
A few months ago, he was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, one of the deadliest forms of the disease. I had communicated to his sister Lin that I wanted to visit him and catch up on old times (I bumped into him randomly in Manila a couple of years back, but that brief encounter lasted only a few minutes). It was a visit he and I had looked forward to, but alas, it wasn’t meant to be.
On March 1, Herman breathed his last. I went to the wake and spent time with Lin, listening as she spoke about the kind of man Herman turned out to be. He was very well-traveled, loved children (although he never had any of his own) and loved his friends.
There was a constant stream of people coming to visit and pay their last respects. It was great knowing that his life was happy and full.
Rest in peace, Herman.