How the WE ❤️ LA Concert 2025 Brought Joy, Hope, and Powerful Diversity to the Hollywood Bowl

I’ve lived a lot of life. I’ve worn vintage gowns in graveyards, played hostess in Deco penthouses, and walked through Hollywood’s gilded past like I built it myself. But until last night?

I’d never been to the legendary Hollywood Bowl. I know. Gasp, clutch your pearls, do what you must.

Let me tell you—the moment I walked in and saw that iconic shell glowing against the Hollywood Hills, something shifted. The Bowl isn’t just a venue; it’s a damn experience. Nestled right in the heart of nature and fame, the whole setup is like music’s answer to church.

Except instead of pews, there’s tiered seating, great acoustics, and wine (that you can bring inside) in your lap. Not mad about it.

The air itself felt electric, like it was charged with every note ever played there. And you know me—I’m all about the story behind the story. The Bowl? It tells you a story the second you step inside. And this one started with a national anthem so breathtaking it made me forget, for a moment, that we’re living in a political dumpster fire.

The Palisades Charter High School Band kicked off the evening with the most jaw-droppingly gorgeous version of “The Star-Spangled Banner” I’ve heard in ages. Seriously. It was so moving, so technically tight and emotionally expansive, that for 90 seconds I was like, “Damn. Being American kind of slaps right now.”

And let’s not forget—these are kids. High schoolers. Many of whom likely lost everything in the Palisades fires. They stood on that massive stage, in front of thousands, and played their hearts out. If that doesn’t make you emotional, you might want to check for a pulse because… what the hell is wrong with you?

For just that singular moment—watching that iconic red, white, and blue glow wash over the Bowl’s shell—you forgot that Trump is out there as President, trying to strip us of our basic human rights. You forgot the heaviness, the headlines, the hurt.

The WE ❤️ LA Concert 2025 wasn’t just a night of good music—it was a love letter to the people who literally held our city together through flames. First responders and fire-impacted families were gifted this evening under the stars, and while other benefit concerts have come and gone, this one felt different. It felt intimate. Even at the massive Hollywood Bowl, it felt like LA put its arm around all of us and said, “We got you.”

It was like hearing jazz clubs from the 1930s echo through the hills of Hollywood. The kind of performance that grabs your ribcage and shakes something loose. Gershwin’s genius has always lived in the tension between classical structure and wild improvisation—but it only truly comes alive when someone like Clayton breathes fire into it. And last night? He torched that piano in the best way.

Now, here’s where I really lose it: Hayato Sumino—aka the TikTok piano genius who just lit up Royal Albert Hall in 2024—is bringing Rhapsody in Blue to the Bowl this summer. Rhapsody, y’all. Gershwin’s signature piece. His crown jewel. And would you believe, in all my years of symphony-ing, I’ve never seen it live? Never. That changes this summer, and I’ll be covering it as part of my partnership with the Japanese American National Museum, where we explore the intersection of cultural heritage, performance, and representation.

Let’s not gloss over this: Yo-Yo Ma is fresh off performing at the reopening of Notre-Dame in Paris—a literal world event—and here he was in LA, playing for a crowd of first responders and survivors. That kind of grace? That kind of humility?

It’s the kind of representation and presence that speaks volumes, especially for our Asian American communities in Los Angeles. It was music as medicine.

Wearing diva energy like a crown, she stepped into the spotlight and delivered a soul-shattering rendition of “At Last” by Etta James. From the first note, it was clear: Xtina did not come to play. She came to minister to the broken-hearted, the fire-weary, the emotionally fried.

Her voice—still a full-body instrument—wrapped itself around that song and made it brand new. You could feel the weight of every run, every pause, every breath. It was reverent. It was raw. It was gospel through a pop goddess filter.

And just when we were all like, “Okay, take our hearts, what’s left of them anyway,” she gave us “Beautiful.”

Now, listen. I know that song has been through the pop culture wringer. It’s been parodied, remixed, and used in every empowerment montage since 2002. But when Christina Aguilera sings “You are beautiful, no matter what they say” live, in 2025, in a city still healing from disaster? It hits different. It wasn’t just a pop ballad—it was a balm. A declaration. A reminder that we still matter. That art still matters. That we’re still here.

If the WE ❤️ LA Concert 2025 was the heart of the city on full display, Gustavo Dudamel was its pulse. He didn’t just conduct—he conjured. He moved like the music was pouring through him, like he wasn’t leading the LA Philharmonic so much as channeling it from another dimension.

This man is the blueprint. Venezuelan-born, globally revered, and a cultural icon in his own right, Dudamel is the kind of conductor who makes classical music feel cinematic, intimate, and electric all at once. He’s not just waving a baton—he’s pulling on the strings of your soul.

Dudamel didn’t just lead an orchestra—he led a collective emotional unraveling across thousands of people who came to cry, cheer, and heal. And like the true maestro he is, he brought it all together with such warmth and precision that even the wildest movie themes felt deeply personal.

Here’s the bittersweet part: this is one of Dudamel’s final seasons with the LA Philharmonic. He’ll be stepping down soon, and if you haven’t seen him live yet, fix that immediately.

In the middle of all this high culture and emotional gravitas—just as the Philharmonic was hitting us in the feels and the cello had us contemplating our entire existence—guess who rolled up with joy in a gift bag? Mattel. Yep. The Barbie people. And they understood the assignment.

As part of their 80th anniversary celebration, Mattel showed up with purpose, presence, and something we don’t talk about enough when it comes to healing: the power of play.

Every guest—especially first responders and families impacted by the wildfires—received a thoughtful little goodie bag marked “Play It Forward.” Inside? Tiny treasures of childhood joy: an Uno deck, a Barbie mini figure, or a Hot Wheels car. Simple, iconic, and instantly comforting. These weren’t just giveaways—they were gentle reminders that even in chaos, everyone deserves a moment of joy. And that sometimes, what we need isn’t another speech—it’s a toy car that goes vroom.

What struck me most was how inclusive the gesture felt. Whether you were a kid who’d just survived the scariest chapter of your life, or a parent still holding it all together with 1/4 roll of off-brand duct tape and deep breaths, this gift said: we see you. It spoke to the young and the young at heart, to the idea that healing doesn’t always come in grand gestures—it often starts with something small, familiar, and full of possibility.

A concert like WE ❤️ LA doesn’t just happen—it takes a city. And this city? It showed up. From the performers who poured their hearts into every note, to the organizers who created an event that felt both grand and deeply personal, this night was a true love letter to Los Angeles.

Special thanks to the generous presenting supporters who made this unforgettable evening possible: Anne Akiko Meyers and Jason Subotky; Terri and Jerry Kohl; Gregory Annenberg Weingarten, GRoW @ Annenberg; and Barbara and Jay Rasulo. Their contributions helped center the real heroes—the first responders and fire-impacted families—not just in the crowd, but in the spirit of the show.

This wasn’t just a concert. It was a cultural moment. A reminder that music heals, community matters, and we’re at our best when we show up for each other. From Gershwin to Aguilera, Yo-Yo Ma to Dudamel, every note carried something bigger than just sound. It carried hope.