freedom
7th March 2007, 09:41 PM
After 20 years of being dedicated to Prince’s music, it was an honour to meet him personally and shake his hand in August 1998 on the first day of his U.K Tour. It all happened by a twist of fate.
Several days before the long awaited Wembley Arena show, I telephoned the PR Company to find out where the aftershow would be. I told them I was a huge fan and to prove my point, I faxed copies of the letters I had sent to various journalists questioning their usual derisory comments on The Artist (as he was known then). I also included my letter published in The Face magazine in 1997.
A couple of hours later…….the P.R company phoned me back to invite me to the "Meet And Greet" at Wembley’s show on the Wednesday night. I felt an aftermath of emotions including disbelief and sheer exhilaration.
After an hour of being incorrectly directed around Arena by security, I eventually got my back stage pass. In the downbeat backstage bar sat approximately 15 people, the room having a combination of the aroma of stale cigarettes and nervous anticipation. Bar staff nonchalantly sipped tea out of flasks, muttering amongst themselves in private conversations while eating their home-brought sandwiches.
I sat successfully engaging in idle small talk with other fans and the minutes shuffled by as quickly as waiting for a leap year. We could hear the muffled sound of Chaka Khan singing and the increased cheers of the crowd when The Artist joined her on the stage. Being so nervous, I did not want to go the toilet in case I missed his entrance! When I finally got the courage, I went with a new-found male acquaintance also in need. We were standing behind the stage when he suddenly grabbed my arm and began pointing furiously. I didn’t understand why he was so excited as I could only see a security person. Suddenly my eyes focused to what he was trying to show me. The Artist was striding past us (about 2 feet away) to enter to the back of the stage. He had just walked past me and I hadn’t even noticed him!
Wearing a long blue jacket and dark shades, he looked the business! For all of those 30 seconds that he was in my line of vision, I had to rely on my automatic body pilot to assist with my breathing and heartbeat. I was momentarily in a dream like trance, forcing myself to believe then and there that I occupied the same space within our world as He.
We were quickly ushered back to the drab waiting room by an impatient official and about 30 minutes later, Chaka and her sister Taka entered backstage and I shook their hands. Minutes later, in breezed the Artist standing on the opposite side of the round table where I was previously positioned talking to the Khan sisters. It took a lot of strength to keep me upright.
Here stood a legend possessing the aura of an angel. Everybody and everything in the room stopped when he entered and believe it or not, despite his overwhelming presence he appeared quite shy. But when he spoke, and this is what captivated me, his voice, it was so deep and powerful, that I just forced to stare! Now adorned with a luscious red trouser suit, ear wrap attached, I approached him with my right hand extended.
"Hello, my name in Angela", I said and shook his hand. He said hello back. I got the impression that he would rather be doing something else (like performing) than having to surround himself with the formalities of meeting complete strangers. He was promptly ushered out of the room as swiftly as he entered (I would say he was in there for a minute at the most……it was 9.30pm and he was due on stage at 8.00 so the show was running late) But to shake his hand and to touch him………. the whole experience was a deeply spiritual one.
© Angela Nansera (pgtrips@aol.com) Re-edited Jan 2001
Several days before the long awaited Wembley Arena show, I telephoned the PR Company to find out where the aftershow would be. I told them I was a huge fan and to prove my point, I faxed copies of the letters I had sent to various journalists questioning their usual derisory comments on The Artist (as he was known then). I also included my letter published in The Face magazine in 1997.
A couple of hours later…….the P.R company phoned me back to invite me to the "Meet And Greet" at Wembley’s show on the Wednesday night. I felt an aftermath of emotions including disbelief and sheer exhilaration.
After an hour of being incorrectly directed around Arena by security, I eventually got my back stage pass. In the downbeat backstage bar sat approximately 15 people, the room having a combination of the aroma of stale cigarettes and nervous anticipation. Bar staff nonchalantly sipped tea out of flasks, muttering amongst themselves in private conversations while eating their home-brought sandwiches.
I sat successfully engaging in idle small talk with other fans and the minutes shuffled by as quickly as waiting for a leap year. We could hear the muffled sound of Chaka Khan singing and the increased cheers of the crowd when The Artist joined her on the stage. Being so nervous, I did not want to go the toilet in case I missed his entrance! When I finally got the courage, I went with a new-found male acquaintance also in need. We were standing behind the stage when he suddenly grabbed my arm and began pointing furiously. I didn’t understand why he was so excited as I could only see a security person. Suddenly my eyes focused to what he was trying to show me. The Artist was striding past us (about 2 feet away) to enter to the back of the stage. He had just walked past me and I hadn’t even noticed him!
Wearing a long blue jacket and dark shades, he looked the business! For all of those 30 seconds that he was in my line of vision, I had to rely on my automatic body pilot to assist with my breathing and heartbeat. I was momentarily in a dream like trance, forcing myself to believe then and there that I occupied the same space within our world as He.
We were quickly ushered back to the drab waiting room by an impatient official and about 30 minutes later, Chaka and her sister Taka entered backstage and I shook their hands. Minutes later, in breezed the Artist standing on the opposite side of the round table where I was previously positioned talking to the Khan sisters. It took a lot of strength to keep me upright.
Here stood a legend possessing the aura of an angel. Everybody and everything in the room stopped when he entered and believe it or not, despite his overwhelming presence he appeared quite shy. But when he spoke, and this is what captivated me, his voice, it was so deep and powerful, that I just forced to stare! Now adorned with a luscious red trouser suit, ear wrap attached, I approached him with my right hand extended.
"Hello, my name in Angela", I said and shook his hand. He said hello back. I got the impression that he would rather be doing something else (like performing) than having to surround himself with the formalities of meeting complete strangers. He was promptly ushered out of the room as swiftly as he entered (I would say he was in there for a minute at the most……it was 9.30pm and he was due on stage at 8.00 so the show was running late) But to shake his hand and to touch him………. the whole experience was a deeply spiritual one.
© Angela Nansera (pgtrips@aol.com) Re-edited Jan 2001