Pasquale and Me

Concert Narrative

As Italian tenor Pasquale Esposito sang while strolling away from the center of the room, I giggled at the sight of his room-brightening smile, but my giggle became a gasp as he approached my family's table. Just when I thought my eyes were wide enough as he turned towards our table, they exploded as his hand grasped mine, rendering me speechless.

It all began on June 27th, 2015, when I was introduced to Maestro Esposito through his first PBS special: a documentary concert centered around the famous Italian tenor Enrico Caruso. In September of that year, I was still so fascinated by the special that I wrote a poem before emailing it to Pasquale. After his reply two days later, I was on his Facebook page when I saw a post that began: WOW PEOPLE WRITING POEM ABOUT MY PBS ENJOY AND THANK YOU. While reading the first line of the poem, I realized that I was reading my poem, which made me want to meet him and thank him for posting my poem on Facebook.

Since that June, I would watch Pasquale's special almost every time it was shown on PBS for the next two years. While watching the special on July 21st, 2017, an upcoming concert was announced, and that's when mom had an idea: since I wrote the poem that's on his Facebook page, I should ask Pasquale via email if my family can get free passes to the show. I sent the inquiry email to Pasquale about a week later, and I received a response the day after I sent it from his manager, Samira Ghazvini. Samira's email informed me about a website called Goldstar.com that sold certain tickets for half the price, which I went to before purchasing three tickets at $45 each.

As the weeks turned to days, I printed out copies of a couple of poems I wrote about Pasquale, including the one on Facebook, before putting them in a manila folder with a drawing I had been working on occasionally for the past two years. On October 13th, 2017, my family made it to Andiamo Celebrity Showroom in Warren before the show, and after being checked in at the ticket-checking podium near the front door of the auditorium-turned banquet hall, a lady led us to table 27. While my parents sat across the rectangular table from me, we wondered why we were the only ones at our table, while almost every other table in the room was full.

After being almost deafened by a commercial for Andiamo's upcoming shows, we were shown a pleasing introductory video about the concert, where we heard Pasquale talk about the show: a touring production of his upcoming PBS special on Italian Piazzas. As soon as he finished speaking, his band (a drummer, a keyboard player, and two guitarists) started playing as I watched the entrance to the backstage area, which was actually next to the stage.

Just when I expected Pasquale to come onstage from the "backstage" area, we heard his voice from somewhere else, and I gasped when I found him near the three-step mini-staircase in the center of the room. As a spotlight fell on him, Pasquale continued singing "Il Mondo" before walking towards our side of the room, during which I smiled and wondered whose day he was going to brighten on his way to the stage. The cheery expression on my face became one of shock almost immediately when I realized that of all the people in the 800-seat room, Pasquale was heading toward me.

Thinking that he was at the beginning of the space between tables 26 and 27, I looked away for a split second and told mom to get her camera, but that's when I looked and saw him a few feet away from me with his right hand stretched out. The moment I reached my right hand out to him, his smooth fingers grasped it before we made eye-contact, where I couldn't believe I was gazing into the same honey-brown eyes that held me spellbound when I first saw him on PBS. He then let go a moment later and patted my shoulder before continuing to the stage, all while my cheeks hurt as I watched him in awestruck wonder.

After waiting to meet Pasquale after the unbelievable concert (which ended with songs like "The Lord's Prayer" and "Nessun Dorma"), I immediately exclaimed his name, to which he held out his arms and cooed, "It's so happy to see you!" As he patted my back with one hand while the other one was wrapped around me, I didn't want to pull away from the embrace, but I had to. After I handed him the manila folder and showed him the poems, I giggled when he saw the portrait and remarked, "Wow! It looks like me!" He then asked if he could keep it, which I said he could before we hugged each other again.

A few minutes after he met my parents, Pasquale said that since I told him how much his music helped me the last two years (dad lost his job and my friend died in 2015, followed by mom having health problems in 2016), he would think of me while singing "The Lord's Prayer." After I gave him a "Thank-you" hug, my parents told me that we had to leave soon, so Pasquale and I exchanged a final hug (during which I kissed his cheek). My parents and I said goodbye before we headed to the car, where dad drove us home while I cried mixed-emotion tears in the backseat.

Looking back on that very happy occasion, I still can't believe how lucky I was to correspond with Samira, who I met after the show. I giggle like a little girl when I hear "Il Mondo," because it reminds me of the handshake, and with all the happy memories, there's something I regret: mom not having her camera ready.