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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.
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.)
The opera house at night |
Ceiling inside the front lobby |
That’s me! Me at Wicked! |
My program–it doesn’t say “Playbill” at the top, but I love it all the same. 🙂 |
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. 😉
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.