Defining the Chayanne Experience

Anyone who has ever seen Chayanne in concert will agree that his shows are quite simply, an experience. In the words of a twenty-something woman, the pop artist’s self described biggest fan, what one experiences at a live Chayanne show can only be called "musical hysteria."

It's not just the exhilarating rhythms and dancing numbers, which are plenty, or the good-looking male and female dancers. It's not just his talented and charismatic musicians, either. It’s all that plus thousands of fans – mostly women often accompanied by their husbands or boyfriends – screaming at the top of their lungs which make them all participants in that unique experience.

With CMN managing Chayanne's "No Hay Imposibles" U.S. Tour, which drew more than 20,000 fans on opening weekend, I thought it would be good to take in the "experience."

The first stop was at L.A.'s historic and accommodating Gibson Amphitheater, considered a mecca for contemporary performers. Backstage, framed photos of artists who have sold out the Gibson at one time or another adorn the narrow walls. Among them were a handful of CMN friends and pop legends, including Ana Gabriel, the father-and-son tandem of Vicente and Alejandro Fernandez, and Luis Miguel. Further down the hallway is a frame that changes every week – sometimes every night. It is a Gibson tradition to have a framed photo of the artist scheduled to perform that night hung next to the also famous “A” dressing room. On this night, the man in the framed picture was Chayanne.

"The Chayanne Experience", said one of the screaming fans, “is his moves, his dancing, how he makes me feel inside." Her husband, standing next to her, could only display an awkward smile as he listened quietly to his wife’ colorful description of her platonic love. Her delight soon turned to complete euphoria as the lobby lights began to flicker, signaling the start of the show.

"I gotta go," she blurted. “I can’t miss the start, it was nice to meet you!" And she ran off, leaving her husband walking quickly behind her.

When the lights at the Amphitheater finally went out, the screams were so deafening that they melted into a long, high-pitched omnipresent scream that seemed to bother no one. As the notes of one of Chayanne's most recognized songs began to play, I suddenly felt as though all the women standing behind me were going to rush to the stage and run me over. I turned back slowly, hoping to avoid the stampede, but the women did not seem to notice that I was even there, their big eyes fixed on the lasers and lights beaming before them, waiting for the cause of all the screaming to finally appear.

The beat sped up, the notes strung longer, the dancers took their places and then, in a nano second of quiet delirium, Chayanne suddenly appeared, and I feared I might go deaf. Some began to cry, some began to dance. But Chayanne, and his ubiquitous magnetism, was just about to put take the "experience" into full gear.

Check back to read the next “On the Road Again” blog by CMN’s Enrique Guadamuz.