BEITEDDINE AUDIENCES ENTRANCED DURING RETURN OF AZNAVOUR
By May Jeong

Daily Star
July 11 2009
Lebanon

Iconic French vocalist is enjoyed by diplomats, cafe owners alike

BEITEDDINE: It’s not often you have a chance to see front-row French
diplomats enjoying the same show as the folks in the impromptu seating
on the rooftop of the nearby family-run cafe. That’s what came to
pass at the main courtyard of Beiteddine Palace Thursday night as
Charles Aznavour, sporting shiny shoes and matching suspenders,
held his audience rapt.

The iconic composer-vocalist has had a long relationship with
Lebanon. Photo albums around Beirut sport more than one image of
the youthful Aznavour enjoying a drink of something-or-other at a
prominent Armenian-owned Hamra Street bistro. Based on his reception,
Aznavour’s status has shrunk not a whit in the intervening years.

Aznavour’s stage presence towers far above his 160 centimeter
height. As he whispered sweet nothings to those swooning in main
courtyard of Beiteddine Palace, you could almost hear the fluttering
hearts of the romantics in the crowd as they missed a beat or two.

Aznavour has composed over 1,000 songs and sold over 100 million
records and in more recent years he has complemented his musical
career with cinematic and diplomatic work.

The Frank Sinatra of France, as he is known among Francophones,
Aznavour belted out such familiar numbers as "La Boheme" and "Ave
Maria," which held his trans-global, multi-generational audience rapt.

His performance was backed by a six-piece band of bass, keyboard,
piano, saxophone, drums, an accordion and a pair of vocalists to sing
accompaniment. One of the choristers, the vocalist’s daughter, Katia
Aznavour, briefly shared center stage with him. The father-daughter
duet was sung in perfect pitch and, while the family resemblance was
difficult to detect (Katia seemed to tower over her petite father),
the performance was marked by an easy familiarity.

Aznavour’s band, some of whom have traveled with him for over a dozen
years, function as a tightly-knit, cohesive unit, all of its members
evincing affection and admiration for the band-leader.

At times, Aznavour seemed to be performing a soliloquy on life, death,
and everything in between. Other times, he just seemed to be having
a good time, keeping both himself and the audience entertained.

Encouraged by the ease with which he carried himself on stage, the
audience seemed a bit more willing to let go as well.

Aznavour continued to belt out vintage numbers, and what begin as
isolated clapping and humming among the audience soon morphed into
a full-on sing-along.

The vocalist then reciprocated with playful two-steps and ad hoc dance
routines. His youthful carrying-on was matched only by the reverence
he showed for his venue. To watch him waltz, tap, swoon, and croon,
was to see a man in his prime.

The sole criticism of the show would be that some of the jazz numbers
echoed one another a little too closely. Played side by side, it
was difficult for the untrained ear to discern one from another. The
final number of the evening seemed a bit too choreographed, a little
too perfect. But this was a minor detraction in what was overall a
commanding performance by a seasoned musician entertainer.

Aznavour’s popularity was evident from the ad hoc seating arrangements
that sprang up on the rooftops of the houses surrounding the
palace. One improvised balcony, atop a nearby gas station, was seating
over a dozen curious onlookers who could be heard humming along to
every number from afar. Aznavour sang songs to fall in love to and,
drunk with music, the audience was entranced.