Walking to Lulu Carpenter’s on Pacific, I spotted David Coulter talking to a musician who was sitting and playing a saw in front of Bookshop Santa Cruz. I stopped to photograph the scene noticing that even Coulter’s body language has an Irish lilt to it. Instead of interrupting their conversation, I continued on to the coffee shop to get ready for the interview. I had questions I wanted to review and only a few moments to spare. There was much I wanted to know about this brilliant musician from the UK who revolutionized the play “As You Like It” for me with an illuminating soundtrack.

The songs in Shakespeare’s plays are usually a problem. They are almost embarrassing, and “As You Like It” has more than any other play. For this year’s production, however, the songs were far from lackluster but were authentic and phenomenal. The music actually rivaled the action and the dialogue of Shakespeare’s most philosophical comedy. I was genuinely shocked that anyone could pull off such a profound feat. As I watched and listened to the play, I realized I was witnessing something special, something profoundly different and remarkable.

“Well, I spent a year writing the music,” Coulter explained. “I was invited by (director) Carey Perloff to do the songs, and we have had a wonderful creative collaboration. When you get the opportunity to write music for lyrics penned by Shakespeare, it’s a huge challenge and honor.”

Coulter peers at you through crystal clear lenses with a glint in his eye when he talks. A spark from a silver tooth flashes when he smiles and his hair is combed straight back while his sideburns extend to the bottom of his ears. His look is that of a cosmopolitan artist. He wears all black, and it is not hard to imagine him on tour with the Pogues, working on set with Tom Waits, or recording in a studio with the Gorillaz. And you can see him pictured with many of the musicians he’s worked with on his website, including Lou Reed, Laurie Anderson, and Yoko Ono.

We met at Santa Cruz Shakespeare’s announcement of next year’s season. I had my daughter with me, and we were getting photos of the actors who are celebrities to us, taking turns being nervous and excited to approach them. The level of talent that Charles Pasternak and the festival brings to town is considerable, and it’s a rush to see them out of costume mingling with their fans. When we met David, he took the time to really connect with us, and even invited my daughter to join him on stage for a sound check before the play. This blossomed into a moment as a father that I will never forget.

Seeing my daughter playing the drum along with the cast of “As You Like It,” my hunch was confirmed. David Coulter is the real deal. Only a true artist could connect with a child through music like that. His generosity of spirit created a space where I was able to see her in a different light, just like I experienced the play with new sensations. Music has the power to do this, to give us new perspectives, to awaken sleeping feelings. At 10 years old, my daughter was experiencing this, and her younger sister was not going to miss out on the chance, either. 5 years younger, she fearlessly jumped up on stage for her turn at the drum.

Certain actions almost universally impress and inspire us. Watching a surfer tuck into the hollow of a wave, seeing a painter’s soulful canvas hanging in a gallery, hearing a writer tell a well-crafted story: these things move us because we see what is possible. We are inspired by accomplishments of imagination. It is one thing to achieve this apex of artistic height occasionally, but to have a career and then to build a life out of it is another thing altogether.

But life itself is art, as the melancholy Jaques relates in Shakespeare’s play with his famous monologue. “All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players.” As Coulter related some of his story, answering my questions without me even asking them, I was reminded that there is no script for an artist’s life. It is based on instinct and a passion for improvisation, it unfolds moment by moment, line by line, as you write it.