MUNYA's voice cut through the mingling of cocktail-party goers, making even office lights gleam. Accompanied only by her own fingers' keyboard boogie, she made the workspace work.
But Josianne Boivin's voice wasn't built for an open-plan office; it could fly with the buttresses and still need more room (before MUNYA, Boivin trained as an opera singer). It was a ridiculous place for her to perform in, really — many attendees were either too busy distributing themselves and their cards to listen, or clutching their wine stems too tightly to budge even an eyebrow.
But MUNYA's songs were too fun to fail, so she let it all float out anyway, her hands glissando-ing across every rainbow key. "If I'm gone tomorrow, don't be sad," she pealed. They didn't even know what they were missing.
But Josianne Boivin's voice wasn't built for an open-plan office; it could fly with the buttresses and still need more room (before MUNYA, Boivin trained as an opera singer). It was a ridiculous place for her to perform in, really — many attendees were either too busy distributing themselves and their cards to listen, or clutching their wine stems too tightly to budge even an eyebrow.
But MUNYA's songs were too fun to fail, so she let it all float out anyway, her hands glissando-ing across every rainbow key. "If I'm gone tomorrow, don't be sad," she pealed. They didn't even know what they were missing.
