Front Row at a Buika Concert

The lights dim in Toronto’s Royal Conservatory theatre as my date and I take our seats in the fourth row. A gentleman wearing a blazer, sporting a full white beard, is seated in the row ahead of me. His wife, who has a pixie short haircut, is wearing an elegant silver suit making her teardrop topaz earrings stand out. I spot a young man with dreads and a young woman with black curly hair, wearing rustic jewelry, in the crowd behind me; a very eclectic crowd this evening.

The renowned organization first opened its doors in 1886, headed by then musical director Edward Fischer. Since then, it has been surpassing international standards for music education and has been the setting for numerous artists’ performances from across Canada and the world. On this night, I had the pleasure of seeing Buika.

María Concepción Balboa Buika was born in Palma de Mallorca, Spain, on May 11th, 1972. Originally from Equatorial Guinea, this songstress is known for mixing various musical genres and singing in several languages. Her musical and lyrical talents garnered her a 2008 Latin Grammy award for best album. Two years later, award success struck again and won her the best traditional tropical album award for El Ultimo Trago.

Watching her perform live, it is easy to see why Buika has been able to connect with thousands of fans across the globe. Regardless of the note, she chooses to sing (her vocal range is enviable), each one is emotionally charged and has the raspy tone that characterizes the singer’s songs. No wonder audiences feel coaxed into coming along for the joy ride that is one of her performances: once the music starts, the only thing on your mind is her music and tunnel vision sets in with her in the center.

After the first song, Buika closes her eyes, flashes her toothy grin, and “senses” the next track from her audience. With audience members shouting song requests in Spanish and English, it is a wonder how the siren managed to calm her thoughts. Her band members, as though they are fined tuned to her aura, hold their instruments close to their ears and try too to sense the next song. With no evident tracklist and the only form of communication between them being subtle eye contact, I begin to wonder if they are actors in their spare time. They certainly know how to act like this performance is improvised.

Choosing to ignore logical explanations for their musical cohesiveness, I conclude that all four musicians are somehow spiritually intertwined, and it is that connection that allows audiences to be pleasured by such a stunning performance. How lucky, some in the audience are, to have front row seats.