20 years ago. My dear friend Barry asked me if I wanted to join him to see a movie. He thought I might like it. A “musical”. Sorta. But not. It was hard to explain. I was intrigued enough. Off to Newtown Dendy.
That movie? Once.
From the opening scene. Fell in love instantly.
With the movie, the music, and the performers. With Glen Hansard.
This scene, this song, this performance:
It’s simply spellbinding.
That moment, that experience—it was more than just a “great piece of music” or performance that I witnessed.
Something shifted, deep within me.
It was life changing. No other words for it. Not hyperbole.
It shifted my relationship to music; to what “songwriting” meant and was about; to how I approached singing.
It inspired me. Lifted me.
It reframed my connection to what self-expression through art meant. My approach and perspective on being alive, what we’re here for—if I look deep enough.
Yes, my experience around that one song is all that.
The whole movie is amazing (Markéta is wonderful, too—but I trust she’ll forgive me for focusing on Glen in this moment). I bought it on DVD, and have watched it multiple times. I’ve listened to the album, often.
I fell down a rabbit hole, discovering the Frames and his back-catalog of songs and performances. Struck by the same power and inimitable spirit that shows up in that movie. It was not a once off. It was his way of being.
Glen’s spirit is evident in every performance I’ve seen of his since. And I’ve been impressed with every interview or snippet of wisdom that I’ve seen… That… That!
Words cannot express how I feel today, learning of his passing.
I’m in tears, on the train, having just seen the post on his official Instagram.
Selfishly, I feel like I’ve lost something precious. I never met him, knew him, shared a comment with him on social media, no email exchanges. I know that what I’m feeling is a fraction of what his loved ones, and those that had his presence more closely and deeply, must be feeling.
I connected with him purely through the magic of his words, his songwriting… his simultaneously ferocious yet vulnerable presence in performances like that opening scene. So much power, yet a fragility, an openness, a pain, a longing.
And yet, despite that “not knowing,” I’m heartbroken. I feel like I did when I learnt of Jeff Buckley’s disappearence, then passing. And anyone that knows me, anyone that knows the music I make, knows how deeply Jeff’s spirit runs through it. Glen… same…
My Instagram feed is filled with comments and memories and feelings of gratitude and loss, from all over the world, from artists, from everyday people. All of whom his work and presence has touched. More than I’ve seen of a “famous person” passing, since maybe Bowie.
It feels like Glen was not the household name. But he was an inspiration to the household names. And many more, of course. Fans around the world. Including me.
And, a musician’s musician.
Rest well, Glen. You have touched so many. You are missed.
And my sincere condolences to his family, friends and loved ones. Blessed be.
xoxo