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During the spring semester of my senior year in high school, my English teacher assigned our class the task of creating a small poetry anthology. The guidelines included selections from respected poets and original writings from our own seasoned twelfth-grade minds, as well as the option of choosing a song with lyrics we admired. While sharing our finished books during class one day, I remember a classmate playing one song in particular: “For Good” from the musical, Wicked. It was literally music to my ears.
Throughout the rest of the semester, Wicked became a big deal at school, particularly among the more musical chorus and band students (I was in the middle of my clarinet-playing days). In fact, I remember a lovely rendition of “For Good” being performed during our senior Baccalaureate/Award ceremony. Around that time, I fell in love with Wicked from a distance–buying the book, singing along with the soundtrack, and dreaming of the day when I’d sit in a magnificent theater, watching these misunderstood characters belt out stories of friendship, love, and major turning points in life.
Fast-forward: six years later. I’ve graduated college, gotten married, moved to Michigan. Imagine my surprise as I watched TV over the summer and saw local commercials for Broadway in Detroit, a place within driving distance that hosts Broadway-quality shows all year long. And guess which musical was featured to return to town in December?
I squealed like a little girl for about two months every time I saw the commercial, and finally went to the Ticketmaster with Brad sometime in November to reserve our seats. The countdown was on.
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Thanksgiving came and went, December snowed its way in, and before I knew it, opening night was here. I made sure I had everything ready before Brad got home so we could get to Detroit in plenty of time–dinner, dress, shoes, you name it.
(Long story short, I threw some chicken in the oven and went on a last-minute errand in my dress and huge shoes to get some Fast Flats. While I was at the drugstore, I saved a baby from almost falling off the cashier’s counter. Inquire below if you are at all curious.)
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The opera house at night |
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Ceiling inside the front lobby |
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That’s me! Me at Wicked! |
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My program–it doesn’t say “Playbill” at the top, but I love it all the same. 🙂 |
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I enjoyed Act II more than I expected, particularly because I realized that I didn’t know what was going to happen. You can learn a lot from a play by listening to the music, but there are some details you’ll never fully understand until you see the production in person. Now, I wouldn’t dream of ruining the story for you, but let me just say this: You’ll be hard-pressed to find another story that puts such an effective sympathetic spin on a classically-hated character. Oh, and if you decide to see the show for yourself, pay careful attention to the dialogue and lyrics. The whole darn thing is a foreshadowing extravaganza.
So, overall, the evening was definitely a success. Even Brad liked the show, which has given me license to play the soundtrack continuously over the past week. Hey, I don’t like to let any opportunity slip by. 😉
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So, second trip to Detroit? Not too shabby. This time around, I saw that artistic spirit surrounding me that so many people talk about, and I could finally see a city that was once incredible, had its hard times, and is on its way to bouncing back. Give it time . . . there’s so much bundled up in those city blocks that’s just waiting to burst to life.