- LINDA EVANS
- I don't dance very often. I love the water.
The Yanni concert begins like dew on an Athenian chrysanthemum opening its face to the morning sun. Sit back in your velvet Benaroya womb-chair and let one of the greatest composers of our time birth you like a baby. The song is "Truth of Touch." Yanni tickles out a melody on the piano so motherfuckin' sweet it's like honey cascading down a waterfall of moonbeams onto butterfly wings. Yanni makes passionate love to every note. Magic, power, beauty, and more power radiate out from the stage like a zephyr of Armani Eau Pour Homme. Leonardo DiCaprio embraces you from behind on the front of the Titanic as you sail, arms out, into the fuchsia blush of a Mediterranean sunset. This is love. This is what it's like to fly. Violins and cellos float in, then drums. You never knew love before. Yanni (yah-nee), you cry out! Soaring, emotional and triumphant. God, his hair looks so fucking good.
Yiannis Chryssomallis by birth, from Kalamata, Greece, the adult-contemporary marauder has sold 17 kadgillion albums worldwide. In March 2014, Yanni released his 17th studio album, Inspirato, featuring operatic vocalists performing remakes of Yanni songs, mostly in Italian. Some sound like Meatloaf's Bat out of Hell. Yanni spoke from the Riverside Theater in Milwaukee, about to start the second leg of his North American tour. He'd just finished working out in the hotel gym, and it was raining there.
Yanni plays Benaroya Hall, Sunday September 14.
