I wouldn’t consider myself a die-hard Beyonce fan but two weeks ago I guess I could have fooled a lot of people into thinking otherwise. My husband and I managed to get our hands on tickets to her concert and I willingly allowed myself to get sucked into the renaissance and dance era theme.
Perhaps it was the online excitement that propelled me to become even more consumed, or the fear of missing out, or the desperate desire to escape the constantly depressing news headlines. Once a person who would turn her nose up at people who would be so dedicated and influenced by the style and lives of celebrities, it felt good to be part of a wider crowd with the same interests and sharing in the same joy.
And while I may not be in the same fan-crazed boat as many other show goers, being there reinforced what I always knew about music, its power and those who are gifted enough to produce it. It is like medicine for the soul. Music has this unexplainable power to make us move, to relax us, to make us feel something when words fail us, and to make our problems feel distant even if it’s for a short space of time.
I wasn’t seated right up front and according to my husband she appeared like a dot on the stage, but it was the collective energy that I was feeding off. The sheer joy on people’s faces; the determination from the heavily pregnant women attending with their girlfriends; the excitement from the mother in front of me between her two daughters taking selfies and immediately sending them their contacts. There was a fearlessness by people wearing the most scandalous silver outfits that made me feel as if it were a music video. If anything, it was a reminder that life goes on, joy does exist and having community is essential to all of this.
The album itself is dedicated to her family, her late Uncle Johnny who died of HIV complications. It heavily centres queer and trans ballroom dancers and their contribution to the disco genre. All people who have been ostracised or shamed in society for either their illness or gender identity but carried on living and being; developing their own support networks/communities as a matter of survival. I read somewhere it wasn’t just an album proclaiming her own self worth but one which forces listeners how to see it in others and themselves and this is exactly what it did. Good art is supposed to make you think, reflect and this did so much more.
For starters it was a reminder to let people just enjoy the things they love even when they seem frivolous and insignificant to you. Everyone is deserving of joy and there is enough to go around for all of us. For all we know it might be just that bit they receive that keeps the wheels spinning for them.
