You could certainly call him old school, except that, even at 75, Leonard Cohen is in a class by himself: randy and religious, filled with deep irony and an equally profound sense of faith and wonder.

On Saturday night the poet, musical philosopher and perpetual enigma enthralled an audience that, while made up mostly of his white-haired contemporaries, included various younger generations of the pop-romantic-intellectual faithful, and he did so for three hours and four encores, miraculously turning the cold commercial cavern of the BankAtlantic Center in Sunrise into a magical, transformative place.

It would take a book to tell Cohen's story: a true poet (before he ever wrote songs), composer of definitive '60s songs like Suzanne and Who By Fire, Zen monk, raconteur, ladies' man and man of faith. But what ultimately matters is the depth of experience he transmits from onstage.

``It's been 15 years since I've been on tour,'' he told the adoring audience Saturday. ``I was 60, just a kid with a crazy dream . . . I've rigorously studied philosophy and religion, but cheerfulness kept breaking through.''

A gaunt lounge lizard in black suit and black fedora over snow white hair, Cohen frequently dropped to his knees or skipped impishly offstage, with an apparent delight that leavened the often profound gravity of his music.

Cohen's voice is now a subterranean foghorn, but with a depth and timbre that makes up for its near monotone lack of range (unfortunately, given an irritating echo on the BankAtlantic Center's sound system). His terrific nine-piece band (which he acknowledged frequently and affectionately), also in black suits and headgear, embedded his songs in a rich, bordering on florid, soundscape: Dino Soldo on jazzy sax, harmonica and clarinet solos; Javier Mas with fluttering, emotional riffs on laud and 12-string guitar; Neil Larson on shimmery Hammond B3 organ; songwriting collaborator Sharon Robinson with Charley and Hattie Webb on soaring, gospelish back-up vocals; and others on bass, pedal steel and drums.

Ah, but the songs. Whether it's the power of Cohen's performance, or hearing them one after the other, they seemed almost endlessly layered with meaning. The romantic illusiveness of songs like Suzanne or Hey, That's No Way to Say Good-bye, which could have been mired in the mostly discredited '60s freedom's-just-another-word-for-

nothing-left-to-lose philosophy, were tremendously poignant and evocative.

Cohen's persona is big enough to encompass frank sensuality -- ``if you want a doctor I'll examine every precious inch of you,'' on I'm Your Man -- to the spiritual mystery of Who By Fire, modeled on a Jewish prayer from Yom Kippur, the Day of Repentance.

What radiated most powerfully was Cohen's sense of faith in forces beyond love or music that fill his life and his art.

``I ache in the places where I used to play,'' he sang in Tower of Song. ``But I hear these tiny voices in the tower of song . . . you'll be hearing from me, baby, long after I'm gone.'' On Anthem he urges us, and probably himself, to ``forget your perfect offering, there is a crack in everything, that's how the light gets in,'' advice that could be applied to life, faith or music-making. ``I'll stand right here before the lord of song,'' Cohen offered in Hallelujah, ``with nothing on my tongue but hallelujah.''

For Cohen and those who have found his music, that imperfect but full-hearted and full-minded offering has been enough for over 40 years.

Join the discussion

The Miami Herald is pleased to provide this opportunity to share information, experiences and observations about what's in the news. Some of the comments may be reprinted elsewhere in the site or in the newspaper. We encourage lively, open debate on the issues of the day, and ask that you refrain from profanity, hate speech, personal comments and remarks that are off point. In order to post comments, you must be a registered user of MiamiHerald.com. Your username will show along with the comments you post. Thank you for taking the time to offer your thoughts.

     Showing: Oldest first Newest first Most-recommended first Least-recommended first

@Nyx.AuthorDisplayName@ wrote on @Nyx.PostedAtTime@:

@Nyx.repliedToText@

@Nyx.replyAnswerText@

Reply to this Comment @Nyx.Recommender@ @Nyx.AbuseReporter@