Dionne Warwick, Living Legend

When we heard that Dionne Warwick was coming to Manila, we immediately got in touch with the company that was bringing her here and made arrangements for a Private Conversations with Ms. Warwick. I was told that we were to be given one of the TV interview slots that she was to grant. I looked forward to our conversation because a "diva" of Ms. Warwick’s talent and experience does not only have the vocal kicks and chops to be Close To You or to Say A Little Prayer or even be a heartbreaker but I was also sure that she had scintillating stories to tell about love, friendship, family even perhaps about her beleaguered cousin, superstar Whitney Houston who looked famished and desolate in her most recent interview with Diane Sawyer where Whitney denied persistent rumors about drug use and anorexia.

No one almost recognized Whitney when she guested in a Michael Jackson special. She was said to have been fired from doing the opening number of the last Academy Awards because she was too hard to handle. What’s happening to her? I wanted to ask Ms. Warwick. I wasn’t sure if she would answer my questions about Whitney, but it thrilled me like a fledgling boxer jumping into the ring for his first major fight. But Ms. Warwick herself went through rough and good times that it was exciting to listen to the voice not in song but in poetry — because Ms. Warwick talks in splendid poetry.

Her schedule was tight. This I knew. So by the day she arrived, she was scheduled to do a press conference and the TV interviews among other things. The night before, I listened to the three CDs that Narciso Chan of BMG sent me. I listened to each song of Ms. Warwick who has this magical voice that relaxes both body and spirit. She’s truly magnificent. Her voice is like the sea breeze that embraces you when you sit alone in a beach like Boracay under the moon and the stars — it caresses, it calms, never intruding — yet it goes deep into you.

Listening to her CDs was my research on Ms. Warwick. I wanted to do an interview around her music. And listening to all her songs in the three CDs made me rediscover Ms. Warwick and in the process admit to myself that I adore her and her generation of musicians more than Eminem. Her songs make you proud that there was indeed a time when the likes of Burt Bacharach and Hal David wrote songs that you can listen to for the rest of your life. I wanted to ask Ms. Warwick what makes a house a home, what does it feel to be close to her heart, why she believes that what the world needs is love or how did she know that she will never love this way again, or has she ever been a heartbreaker and if she still knew her way to San Jose and when was the last time she said a little prayer and what kind of a friend is she?

I carefully wrote my questions (which I don’t normally do) on index cards, making sure that I had the right words culled from her songs. I slept at 5 a.m. and I was happy that I was prepared to do my private conversation with Ms. Warwick.

Then the day came and just when everything was all set, I was told that Ms. Warwick cancelled the TV interviews or the 62-year-old diva decided not to do TV interviews. Whichever it was, I wasn’t shocked but neither was I pleased with the news. And even if in my mind she started to look like a wicked witch, I could not deny that I enjoyed listening to her songs the night before. And I looked forward to the concert. Days before the interview, I had already bought two tickets — "the most expensive," I instructed Mary Ann, my PR supervisor. "She’s worth it. And I want to see her up close."

Now, did I want to go to the concert after she cancelled my private conversation? I said I would sleep over it, then decide the next day.

Of course, I decided to go.

And I made sure we arrived on time. I heard that the day before, she reprimanded the audience for coming late. Aliw Theater was full and at 8:30 p.m. the show hadn’t started. She was probably briefed this time that traffic is horrid going to this area of the city that used to be part of the ocean.

But there was this glance, this quiet dignity, this presence that owned the whole stage. Her musical director who was on the piano, and who looked like a principal’s mother, started the first bar of Close To You. On the third row, I looked at her like a scorned fan, waiting for the bad notes and the vocal slips, hoping that half the audience would fall asleep or walk out of the theater.

But no one did. Not even I. Because from her opening song, Close To You, to her finale, That’s What Friends Are For, I was entranced by Ms. Warwick who has a voice that can tame a wild and petulant heart, a voice that can warm a cold, frigid body, a voice that can calm an angry soul, a voice that can humble an overreacting, egotistical idiot like me.

At 62, Dionne Warwick is a Living Legend. And you can do your share by saying a little prayer!

Bravo, Ms. Warwick!