I love seeing people gush about Hadestown.
I was once a teenage boy, at a Rufus Wainright concert. I sat there, with my mom and a bunch of gay couples waiting for Rufus, when this skinny little girl in a flower print dress comes out on stage, with her guitar; and in her reedy, insecure voice, she tells us that she’s written a musical. It’s a retelling of a classic Greek myth, she says, voice like a twig; a retelling of Orpheus, set in a kind of Great Depression Mining Town setting.
It was Anaïs Mitchell, creator of Hadestown. The album had only just been pressed; there was no stage production, of yet. It was just a dream, still.
The stage was utterly bare; no backup singers or other instruments, just her and her guitar. She picked it up and performed both sides of the call-and-return of Why We Build The Wall. She sang Our Lady Of The Underground; without any of the confidence or sex that later singers would bring to that song; just her and her tiny, unsteady voice. She sang the Wedding Song, and Flowers; shifting her weight from foot to foot, clearly full of nerves.
I was moved. I’d just spent a year in a classical theater conservatory, and I knew intimately how terrifying it was, to stand in front of a great crowd of strangers with expectations and taste. I wanted to get up on that stage and wrap her in a tremendous hug, and tell her I hoped everything worked out like she dreamed. That wasn’t appropriate to do, though, so I did the less creepy thing and bought one of her CDs. Told her she did good.
I listened to it over and over and over again.
I sang the Wedding Song to girlfriends. I belted Our Lady Of The Underground in the car, to and from work. I played Why We Build The Wall while drinking and reading the news.
It’s been nearly 20 years since that concert. Now Anaïs’s baby has a run on Broadway, or so I hear. There’s a Proshot, and people writing essay-length examinations. There’s analysis.
It warms my heart. I feel like, I dunno, not an uncle, but maybe like a friendly neighbor; excited to see that kid Anaïs take her wacky dream and actually succeed with it; actually make it all the way, and not wash out. It’s beautiful. I love it.
Thanks for making your quirky little musical, Anaïs; wherever you are. Your music has been a delight to me for coming up on 2 decades now, and it truly is so lovely to see so many others also appreciating your work.