Journal: Springsteen on Broadway

Bruce Springsteen, the Ordinary, Magic Man

Last night, in the gilded cathedral of the Walter Kerr theater something magical happened.  One thousand souls, believers all — witnessed genius become a legend. No foolin’— this was a production for the ages.  This wasn’t a show, this was sacrament.  This wasn’t a concert, this was the rarest of opportunities to see the poet, the artist, the musician up close and oh! so personal.

Through stripped down versions of beloved songs and the sincerest storytelling, Bruce laid his soul bare and asked us all to come along on his existential journey of discovery. And of course, pilgrims all, we followed him through his Catholic school upbringing, his troubled relationship with his father, his admiration for his mother and falling in love.  

Though seemingly spontaneous, fans of his book will recognize his not-so-off-the-cuff prose and two teleprompters on stage ensure he strikes the right balance of self-deprivation and bravado. No matter, he delivers his lines like the master he is and the scarcity and price of tickets almost guarantees few will experience this twice.  His everyman persona belies a weighty intellect;  his ability to wordsmith the commonplace elevates it high into that rarefied air high above our heads. And like all celestial beings he seemed close enough to touch, if for only a few hours.