P!nk

Six years. That’s how long French fans had waited between Pink’s last Paris concert and this Wednesday, July 3, 2019. Tickets had sold out in minutes. And that night, Plenitude Arena was about to understand why.

32,000 spectators. Two hours of aerial acrobatics. A show that defies the laws of gravity

9:20 PM. A giant chandelier descended from the ceiling. Pink hung from it upside down, several metres above the ground — singing, live, Get The Party Started. The crowd, already on its feet, lost the last trace of composure it had. The show could begin. Or rather: it had already begun before anyone saw it coming.

What sets Pink apart from almost every contemporary is that her concert isn’t a concert. It’s total spectacle — in the fullest sense of the words. Aerial acrobatics, high-wire acts, razor-sharp choreography, visual tableaux that shift universes with every song. The violet cape with puffed shoulders gave way to a red jumpsuit, then a transparent dancer’s dress, then simple white t-shirt and jeans for the finale — every costume a new scene, every song a new world.

The moments of grace accumulated. On Secrets, Pink and one of her dancers delivered a mid-air acrobatic duet — poetic, precise, breathtaking, that would make Cirque du Soleil blush. On Try, the stage transformed into a haunting Versailles ball, chandeliers and animal masks and all. On What About Us, dressed in white, Pink fell one by one into the arms of her dancers — men, women, from all walks of life — in a moment of disarming sincerity. On 90 Days, artist Wrabel joined the stage for an unexpectedly tender duet amid the show’s electricity.

There was also the acoustic moment — Pink and her guitarist alone at the front of the stage, Cyndi Lauper’s Time After Time, Walk Me Home, I Am Here. The room sang back, Pink responded with faces and irresistible good humour. 32,000 people laughing together.

The apotheosis had a name: So What. At the moment of launching into this hit, Pink strapped on her harness — and flew. Literally. She circled the entire venue at breathtaking speed, waving to the front rows, the upper tiers, the very back of the hall, all while continuing to sing. A glittering bird above 32,000 people who couldn’t believe their eyes.

The show closed on Glitter in the Air — Pink alone, in jeans and a white t-shirt, just her voice and her guitar. After two hours of total spectacle, this stripped-back finale was almost vertiginous. She walked offstage carrying her son in her arms.

Two hours of show. Twenty-three songs. An artist doing things on stage that almost no one else dares attempt — and doing them with effortless ease. That night, Plenitude Arena saw life in rose-tinted freefall.