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Getting back to The Greek
A moment as a monolith
I love to express different feelings of “a new home to return to.” In challenging myself (and being afforded the opportunity) to move around the US, I have incurred the task of making myself at home, wherever I may be temporarily present. A few things press this sentiment: there is the smell of the trees when you rush out the door on a calm Sunday morning, the barista who never fails to get your name and your order and recalls your latest gripe about work. The colors of a sunset you refuse to be shocked by. Home includes moments in a day that are perceptibly calm, where there is strength in knowing who-you-are and why-you-are-doing-this. To each place, a consistency, and its own time in the sun. One such time has never slipped past my horizon.
The Greek Theatre sits below Griffith Observatory, within Griffith Park, in the Hollywood Hills of Los Angeles, tucked away in a small and tight forest of trees and scattered parking lots. There’s an incline, there is traffic. I saw Bonobo there in the fall of 2017, accompanied by a live symphony orchestra.
Bonobo, the musical alias of Simon Green, had just released Migration (in my opinion, an electronic downtempo masterpiece). Each instrument and organization brings compelling tenderness, and accompanying lyrics hone in on feelings of transition, transportation, and the…
