LIGHTEN UP LEONARD

The poet stands in the middle of stage. He is tall and thin and dressed in a dark suit and a fedora; he is the epitome of an antiquated word: Dapper. The word suits him as more than just a physical description. For he is an old man, clothed in history, most of it public. He is, after all, a poet, and it his vocation to make the personal public, to let what is inside of him out and he has been doing it for a very long time.

The poet is very still, one hand raised closed to his face, his feet close together, head slightly bowed so that his face is shaded by his fedora. He begins to speak in a voice that voice, a voice more famous than the suit, than the face, than the name of the man; a raspy voice a learned voice a raw voice a cultured voice a passionate voice a measured voice .. the poet's voice.

Music comes to the poet's voice, other voices join in the, the voices of women, women singing, orange lights sweep across the stage, the poet sways to the music and we are taken we are taken away, we are taken to some place, to some other place.

We are taken to the world of Leonard Cohen.

The poet on the stage.

Leonard Cohen is 78 years old. Last night in Toronto he performed a three hour show with a 20 minute intermission. He literally danced off the stage. He made a joke that he has not toured in 15 years but hopes to be turning for two more years; when he turns 80 he wants to take up smoking.

I have been a Cohen fan since I first heard the album The Songs of Leonard Cohen sometime in the early 1970's. I had never read his printed poetry at that time but the lyrics of that album had a powerful influence on me; along with Margaret Atwood, Cohen was probably the poet who shaped my own early attempts at poetry.

We saw Cohen perform once before, in 1992, supporting the album The Future. I remembered it as one of the best live shows I'd ever seen. Last night I experienced deja vu; this old man gave me the best show I've seen in a couple of years.

The band was superb, including two virtuosos: Alexandru Bublitchi on violin and Javier Mas, who's flamenco guitar and mandolin playing was as fine as I've ever heard.

I've often said that if you are a female singer, you want to sing with Cohen. He doesn't have backup singers, he has co singers. Some of them, like Jennifer Warren, have used their association with Leonard to launch their own careers.

Last night Cohen was accompanied by three women: Sharon Robson is a singer and songwriter in her own right and collaborated with Cohen on his album 10 New Songs. She gave us a moment of pure transcentendel bliss as she soloed the song Alexandra Leaving, a perfectly beautiful song based upon some ancient poetry.

Cohen at one point referred to his singers as "these angels" and that certainly applied to the Webb Sisters, who not only have spine tingling voices, but are adept instrumentalists.

Cohen's work is rich and complex and often thought of as "dark". And while he never shies away from those deeper areas of the human heart, I've always appreciated his sense of humour. In one of several asides, Leonard talked about "what's with all this melancholy and darkness, I get up in the morning and stumble down the stairs and look at myself in the mirror and say, Leonard, lighten up"

Not only did Leonard lighten himself up, he lifted us up, giving us one of those experiences you can only receive from a live performance. Through his poetry and his artistry and his overwhelming desire to please the audience, Leonard lifted us, he transported us, he brought us into his world, the world of the poet.