That Paul Potts magic

I have to confess that I am not an opera buff. And though I can occasionally appreciate listening to my brother’s records of Verdi, Puccini and all those revered names, they’re not something a pedestrian like me can’t live without. Which really came as a surprise when I found myself wishing I could watch Paul Potts’ concert at the Philippine International Convention Center.

I became aware of Potts a couple of months ago when I was channel surfing, and I came upon an old clip of Britain’s Got Talent about this man with the funny sounding name. To be honest, I even thought of Pol Pot, thinking it was probably one of those William Hung American Idol moments. Being a fan of Simon Cowell, I was expecting to hear one of his infamous putdowns for this chubby-looking guy in an ill-fitting suit and crooked teeth, looking as if he was about to cry. I could almost imagine the judges mentally rolling their eyes when Potts said he was going to “sing opera.”

But when he sang the first line of Nessun Dorma — I was transfixed, and like the judges, couldn’t believe the poignant music I was hearing. I found myself getting teary eyed, inexplicably touched to the core, amazed that such an ordinary looking person could have an incredible voice, his face transformed into that of an angel as I imagine it to be — serene, glowing, beautiful. Simply put, I was captivated.

Fortunately, a very generous friend gave me tickets to the Paul Potts Live in Manila concert. The evening was a revelation, an experience that, for lack of a better description, thoroughly enriched me. He opened with Granada, giving the promise of a fantastic night. Paul easily endeared himself with the audience, greeting everyone “Mabuhay,” getting appreciative laughter every time he related funny anecdotes about his life as a phone salesman and how clumsy he really was.

Although some commented that Paul seemed to be holding back, chose “safe” pieces and could not really compare with Pavarotti, etc., there was no doubt he had the voice and the talent, and connected with the audience. His rendition of Bring Him Home from Les Miserables made me imagine him as a young man, finding refuge in music, transported in a world far removed from a working class existence, his father having been a bus driver and his mum, a supermarket cashier.

When he sang Caruso, there was no doubt the singer was likewise moved by that song dedicated to his idol. But among all the pieces, what I found particularly touching, and where he really evoked such depth of emotion, was his version of Cavatina — dedicated to his wife Julie Ann Cooper whom he met through the Internet. One could feel the outpouring of emotion as he sang She was Beautiful to My Eyes — his unmistakable ode of love.

While Paul was the star of the show, guest performer Rachelle Gerodias was simply amazing. She was at turns naughty and vivacious in The Laughing Song, also known as My Dear Marquis; heartrending in Mutya ng Pasig; infectiously joyful in Sa Kabukiran. I am certain everyone was mesmerized not only by her fantastic voice but at her ability to evoke emotion, from the way she flicked her wrist, fluttered her fingers and swayed her hips. I even heard one of the audience whisper that it was “a very smart move” to have Rachelle as guest performer. At that moment, I became so proud of our Filipino artists — not only Rachelle but the members of the Philharmonic Orchestra — all of them unquestionably world class.

When Paul finished his last song for the night — aptly titled Time To Say Goodbye — I somehow got disappointed. I had expected him to sing Nessun Dorma, the Puccini piece that changed his destiny and turned his life around. Despite repeated calls of “more, more, more” from the audience, he left the stage. But just when people were getting resigned to the fact that the show was really over, out came Paul Potts for an encore. No doubt it was a perfectly planned “surprise,” and I found myself, and perhaps the other members of the audience as well, reliving that moment when we were first captivated by the magic of Paul Potts.