What Andrea Bocelli Taught Me About Hospitality
Every transformative story follows a timeless arc.
A prelude sets the tone.
Act I opens the door to a new world.
Act II builds intensity—emotion, beauty, tension.
And Act III brings the release that stays with you long after.
I didn’t expect to live that arc at an Andrea Bocelli concert.
But that’s exactly what happened.
The Prelude
It began in Austin. I came to the concert alone, walking in alongside thousands of people who had gathered for one reason: his music. The grand concert hall buzzed with soft energy—dim lights, a hum of voices, and the hush of footsteps weaving through aisles.
A screen illuminated the room with Bocelli’s name, followed by a short film—his early life, his rise in music and beyond. We stepped into a deeply personal journey—one he chose to share with us through that film.
For us, as hosts, there’s something to learn here.
Before your guests settle in, how do you welcome them into your vacation rental?
💡 Here’s a thought:
Create a short 1–3 minute video. Share why you started your space, what it means to you, and how you hope guests feel while they’re there. Whether it’s a tribute to your heritage, a creative passion, or a cause you support—let people in.
Upload it to YouTube or Vimeo. Turn it into a QR code. Print it on your welcome letter, guestbook, or even place it on the fridge.
Create a deep connection with your guests.
Act I & II
The orchestra took their places. Bocelli appeared.
No introduction. No fanfare. Just music—immediate, immersive, intimate.
His voice pulled me in from the first note. But what unfolded over the next hours reached far beyond any expectations:
Steven Mercurio conducted with a kind of fire, guiding the orchestra like an extension of himself
Edward Parks brought charisma and humor to Figaro, earning laughter from across the hall
Pia Toscano’s rendition of All By Myself held the room in awe
Juliana Grigoryan’s voice filled every corner
Brittany O’Connor, Francesco Costa, and Angelica Gismondo danced with grace and passion
David Garibaldi created an upside-down painting live on stage as the music played; the piece was later auctioned in support of the Andrea Bocelli Foundation.
Mariko Muranaka performed part of Game of Thrones on cello, adding a striking, cinematic intensity that deepened the emotional arc of the entire experience.
And then came one special moment—Bocelli’s tribute to Pavarotti.
No words were spoken. Just a song that held the weight of memory, legacy, and deep friendship. You could feel the connection—artist to artist, mentor to mentee.
Emotion shifted with every piece—lightness, wonder, stillness, joy.
This is what experience design looks like.
As hosts, we can create layers like this too:
A pottery or gardening class
A foraging walk followed by dinner
A campfire paired with live music or storytelling
A sound healing session under the stars
A guided craft or art workshop with a local artist
Every detail builds something bigger. Not more. Just deeper.
Act III — The Climax
Then came Vivo Per Lei.
Bocelli had almost left the stage. The audience stood in thunderous applause.
He returned.
And gave us one more gift.
The collective breath of thousands—it felt like time slowed.
Then, Time to Say Goodbye.
The final crescendo marked the true climax of the night—sweeping, powerful, and complete.
When I got home, I looked at my husband and said,
“There’s another concert on Sunday. In Oklahoma. Let’s go.”
Something about the way it all ended made me want to feel it again—this time with someone by my side.
What It Means for Us, Hosts
We pour our attention into guest arrivals. The welcome basket. The check-in process. The design of the space itself.
But what happens when it’s time to leave?
Most endings are functional: door codes, reviews, maybe a discount offer.
But what if we designed endings with the same care as the beginning?
Let’s imagine together:
A small farewell gift from a local maker
A short goodbye video or story
A handwritten hidden note that they can discover with the help of your last message
A custom playlist or voice note sent as they drive away
A powerful ending matters.
It makes guests want to return. It gives them something to tell others.
It creates an arc they’ll remember—and seek again.
Sometimes, it takes great art to remind us of what we’re capable of.
A concert. A story. A feeling that follows you home.
