Queen Josefin

Went to open mic night at Busboys and Poets last night to hear Josefin Holmberg sing and play the piano. The night consisted mostly of raw, almost bitter, poetry filled with black anger. I don't think anyone had any idea that they would soon be enchanted by this charismatic Swedish songstress. It was a contrast that somehow lightened the night's mood while intensifying the experience of the poetry. She brought the house down singing original music in her soulful, almost magically expressive voice.

When I hear her sing, I get that pit in my stomach that usually visits me in the presence of beauty and perfection. Other times I have felt it: the first time I saw Van Gogh's Starry Night at the old MOMA, listening to Holst's The Planets (the Saturn section), climbing among the ruins of Angkor Wat, watching the movie In the Mood For Love, that sunny day after Christmas at Crystal River when we sat on a dock drinking beer with David Poole and Santa and his Elves motored up in their skiff (I got to sit on Santa's lap!). There have been other instances, but not many.

What is this pit? Sadness at the knowledge that I will never possess such talent? Absolute joy that I have the privilege to enjoy something so beautiful? Awe at the power of humanity, for all its foibles, to produce excellence? All of it all at once.

Listen for yourself: www.josefinholmberg.com.

And check out Busboys and Poets, too! www.busboysandpoets.com