A dreamy trip to where the wild things are.

His resounding voice was carried to the highest end of the church, just to the spot we were standing. As if he intended to gently caress our submissive ears. Shivers ran through my spine as Patrick Watson brought his Hommage to Beijing. He somehow seems to be able to turn the feeling of Edgar Allen Poe stories into musical adventures: the atmosphere, a chilly darkness accompanied by featherlight hope, filled his audience with a breathtaking innersilence. As far as my eyes could carry me I saw enchanted lovers, gazing at each other as if touched by Cupids' arrow. Lovers for ever or just for this night. Lovers of volatility . Lovers of drama turned into romance... and back. But mostly, lovers of imagination. All sharing the same dream: the desire of living in a country far, far away, where big birds can live freely, where wild things can live side to side with men like us and passionate flames light up the morning sky.