#aarontveited

And then in December 2008 I saw the Spring Awakening 1NT here in L.A. and that was the BOOM I didn't know I'd been waiting for. It was the first big, Broadway show I saw and the final push I needed through that figurative theatre door. I want to be a part of that. For the rest of my life I want to be a part of that, even if it's just as a fan. SA was a phenomenon for good reason and I was of the perfect age to be truly impacted by it. People can debate all they want about whether it stands up to the hype, but its importance to me and so many others? That's not up for question. Every production I'll ever experience will bring me back to 2008--to a very specific time, place, and set of emotions that has changed my life so much for the better. It evades description, really, but we all have something in our lives like that, y'know?

Mine just happens to be a rock musical. 

So you can imagine how things went two years ago, when I helped assistant stage manage my uni's production of it. Talk about full circle moment, crying in the wings every night. 

And it all came 'round again Sunday, when I was so unspeakably lucky to see Deaf West and Michael Arden's vision of it come alive in front of my eyes in this little black box theatre on a side street in DTLA. The reviews have been rapturous, to say the least, and the trailer we got was the definition of breathtaking, but NOTHING could have prepared me for the actual production. 

The show was at 3 PM and the lobby was pretty packed when I got there. After a moment's confusion, I got my ticket sorted out and took my place in line. I'd been standing around for about five minutes when who should roll in the door but Andy [Mientus]?? He looked fresh off the plane, carry-on in tow, and was in the middle of a call so I just stared after him briefly as he made his way to the front desk.

When they opened the doors to the house, Andy ended up behind me in line so whatever, I turned around and did the whole "I don't know if this is the time or the place, but I saw you in the 1NT!" thing and he seemed pleasantly surprised and we made small talk for a grand total of like, ten seconds because I was whisked off with a few others to upstairs seating because the main house was full. 

The upstairs seating was basically a row of chairs along the catwalk railing, but the performance space was very intimate (the show was sold out and it's only a 100 seat theatre) and I ended up loving the bird's eye view I had. That, and I was neatly tucked in the band corner--the strings were seated adjacent to us and the bassist, drummer, and guitarists were on the main floor directly below.

The actors were both hearing and deaf and such a brilliant company! Most of them were making their stage debuts, but I never would have guessed it--the honesty and raw talent onstage was unlike anything I've ever experienced. And just so I don't end up repeating this over and over later: beautiful, beautiful voices, every single one. Ilse's was a bit different than what I'm used to? Much lower and more mature, but it ended up working with how she portrayed the character. 

Cast:

Melchi, Georg, Hanschen, Ilse, Anna, and the Adult Woman spoke/signed/sung themselves, while the rest of the company were complemented by actors playing their "Voices", who sang and dealt with the spoken dialogue. Everyone was so connected to one another and with some clever mic-ing, you stopped distinguishing between the Voices and the characters a minute into the show (but I'll point out the distinctions here, just so you get a picture of everyone involved in a given scene).   

With the exception of the Adult Man, the Voices were also members of the band. Voice of Ernst was the pianist, Voice of Otto the bassist/music captain, Voice of Thea the harpist (Gabby [Garza]--who's also formerly of the 1NT and a swing in Deaf West's production--was on for Thea's Voice so there was no harp at my performance), and the Voices of Wendla, Martha, and Moritz were all guitarists.

The intertwining of ASL with song and the spoken word was wholly balletic, organic, and seamless. The Voices were inseparable from their partners, offering a supportive nudge here and there (like when Wendla stumbles on Melchi before WOYB and turns to leave--Wendla's Voice gently motioned her back towards him), holding out mic stands, and being absolutely devastating when the time called for it. 

Set design, lighting, etc.

There wasn't an awful lot of performance space at the cast's disposal, but what they had they utilized masterfully. Be it the catwalk adjacent to where I was sitting, the stairs leading down from it, a ladder upstage right, various props (piano included), or physically drawing and making spaces with their bodies on the spot--there were moments where I just wanted to start clapping like a deranged seal, but it was in the middle of a scene and that would have been frowned upon.

Projection (and the lack thereof, at times) was also a critical component of the scenic design. There were multiple points at which actors were purely using ASL, no Voices whatsoever--much of the time it was critical to the story, but sometimes the actors that signed/spoke/sung had their hands occupied with choreography, etc.--so the corresponding text would be projected on the walls (the students had a handwritten-in-chalk script kind of font going on and the adults were in a plain serif). And then at particular pivotal moments, there were no text projections whatsoever, but we'll get to that later~ 

SA's lighting design was gorgeous and while Deaf West's production was much more minimal given their space and resources, what they did do was brilliant. I'm talking about moments like the lighted fingers you see in the trailer, but again, I'll get to that later on in the appropriate number! 

P.S. No hand mics, save for a handful of times (Moritz at the beginning of BOL, Melchi... kind of, during TF, and others I can't recall at the moment)

Act One  Mama Who Bore Me / Mama Who Bore Me (Reprise)

All the kids were onstage as the audience was getting settled--the band members were jamming along to modern tunes, actors were mingling and getting costumes in order. But gradually they drifted off the stage, taking seats in the shadows of the back wall as warm light came up on Wendla and Wendla's Voice, either side of a mirror (sans glass)--Melchior I think, had drawn in chalk a rectangle "room" on the floor around Wendla as the cast transitioned into the top of the act.

Wendla was holding a guitar and her Voice had the schoolgirl dress in her hands and they swapped the items through the mirror to start MWBM. 

And then those familiar opening strings started. 

I was resting my arms on the railing to get a better view and my fingers were digging into the crook of my elbows and there was a lump in my throat and my spine felt electric. It all sounds melodramatic and ridiculous seeing as I still had 2 1/2 hours of show to get through, but that was me at my most composed all afternoon sooooooo.

The light shifted to deep red for MWBMR, focused downstage on the "room" Wendla and her mother were in while the boys transitioned the rest of the stage into the classroom for the following scene. All the girls closed in around Frau Bergman, who was seated and looking around her with equal parts concern and confusion. 

All That's Known / The Bitch of Living

Herr Sonnenstich, as played by the Voice of the Adult Man, didn't sign at all in the classroom (we can do a whole dissertation on the use--or not--of signing and spoken word throughout the entire show, but I'd be sitting here for four months probably), so all of his dialogue was projected on the wall. 

When it came time for Moritz to recite his Virgil, he did it sans his Voice--Herr Sonnenstich bore down on him impatiently, verbally berating him, and it...it's so much more of a frustrating moment than in the original show? Frustrating and deflating on Moritz's behalf, I mean--that knife's edge of 'fail at speech, fail at life' (to quote Michael's director's note) that haunts the history of deaf education.  

Okay okay let's take a breather here so I can talk about our Melchi because he was an absolutely fantastic Melchi!!! Melchior's self-assured without being overly arrogant, the kind of [misguided] individual you'd believe unquestionably that his classmates would rally around, but our Melchi was also the gentlest one I've seen? He's so tender around Moritz and Wendla and his youth shines through--those moments of hesitation, vulnerability, and anger he delivered so genuinely. Which isn't to say that he should be excused for being wrong when he's very very Wrong, but you know what I'm getting at????

ATK was presented beautifully: as the boys started reciting in unison, "...litora, multum ille..." the text came up on the wall as usual, but the font size steadily increased as their recitations became more insistent. Multiple lines of Latin overlapped and overwhelmed, scrolling across the back and side walls every which way during the song. 

The students' desk/chairs were rolling units, which made BOL as frenetic and sharp as ever. Right before the number, when Sonnenstich snapped at Moritz a second time, the boys whipped their desks around, completely in sync.

Our Hanschen was so feline and arrogant--I don't think I've heard "looks so nasty in those khakis" delivered so... oooh the inflections he used. It was absolutely dirty and perfect, perfect, perfect.

The boys did all the crazy jumps off of their desks and I was grinning like a loon (ღ˘⌣˘ღ)

"Then there's Marianna Wheelan--" The actor for Anna, who's in a wheelchair, zipped across the stage without missing a beat, tossing her hair and waving at the audience. It was timed perfectly and we were still in awe and stitches as Otto finished his "--as if she'd return my call." 

Hanschen did not have an off button on his ~~suggestive tones~~. Everything coming out of his mouth sounded filthy (granted, most of Hanschen's dialogue is), but he had such great timing and it was like, Wow this is the most unctuous human being on the face of the planet, but I'd follow him anywhere... I get the appeal, Ernst, I really do. After Hanschen said, "We'll huddle over the Homer, maybe do a little Achilles and Patroclus..." Ernst's entire face LIT UP and he did this little nervous-but-excited skip before exiting with Hanschen. 

My Junk

Truly vigorous masturbating. Wendla was lying at Hanschen's feet, holding the photo of Desdemona, while the rest of the girls were gathered around him, even helping to keep up the ~~motions~~ at one point so his hands were free to sign. 

Touch Me

Touch Me is quite possibly my favourite song in show and one of my favourite songs ever, so if it's done well I generally feel confident in how the rest of the numbers are going to go. Not that I was even remotely worried because from minute one, Deaf West's new staging had me face-in-hands, full body trembling from how right it all was. 

"Giving yourself over to someone else? ... Defending yourself until, finally, you surrender and feel Heaven break over you? I just put myself in her place--and imagine..." -- Melchi's delivery was spot-on, convincing for Moritz's sake, but still with a touch of longing. His voice was so soft as it trailed off into the song's opening guitar chords--I think I had to catch myself from dragging my hands down my face and sighing too loudly. 

The rest of the kids started the song seated on the floor around Melchi and Moritz, drawing chalk circles around themselves. In unison, they all stretched briefly against invisible bonds, then got up before Ernst's solo and cleared the stage for the rest of the number.  

I love love love the Georg solo because it's so great to hear every actor's take on it, but let me tell ya--OTTO. He only gets a handful of moments in the show and his part in "Touch Me" is often overlooked because Georg's is so riff-tastic, but I love Otto's solo. The way the strings and underscoring vocals build and build and then Otto's solo pours through at the very top: it's breathtaking. Our Voice of Otto's voice absolutely SOARED--nailed it--and the staging was jaw-droppingly gorgeous: where the Broadway production had the students enter and slowly cross the stage single file, ours came out as a group, washed in pale blue light. Otto was lifted up on their shoulders, his arms held out, and they moved with a back and forth sway like a wave, until the end of his solo ("And nothing missing, as you're drifting, to shore..."), at which point he fell back and they caught him and I may have started crying because it was such a little thing but so, so beautiful. 

Our Georg also nailed his solo~

The Word of Your Body

Instead of dispersing after "Touch Me" as I expected them to since the scene following was just Melchi and Wendla in the woods, all the kids stayed onstage?? They helped set up some chairs and then as a group they just... they came together: some stood and some sat, they linked arms, hands found shoulders and knees and waists, and Ernst and Georg (who were standing on the chairs most front and center)--Ernst had his head bowed, nestled into the curve of Georg's neck/shoulder and Georg had his arm around Ernst's waist. 

They were a tree.

The scene's in the woods and they'd formed a TREE. WITH THEIR BODIES. A TREE.

THIS PRODUCTION I SWEAR. 

Right before WOYB, when Wendla grows self-conscious of the lateness of the hour and Melchi's sudden closeness, she turned to leave and the rest of the cast (as the tree), they all turned and stretched their arms out toward her. Her Voice motioned her back and as Wendla took her seat with Melchi at the base of the "tree", the cast resumed their former positions, though a few hands gently trailed down Wendla's arms before settling in stillness once more. 

The Dark I Know Well

You know what was new and fantastic to see? 

A tall Moritz!! I have this image and experience of Moritz actors being physically smaller and lankier than the Melchiors, so it was really refreshing that our Moritz was taller than our Melchi, but carried himself in that same Moritz-y way. His "Truly, Heaven must feel like this." broke my heart, he was so overjoyed. 

DKW was terrible. Not terrible as in bad, but terrible as in so well done and so difficult to watch. A bed had been wheeled stage left and set up in another chalk-delineated "room" and Martha started the number there, perched on its edge. At the end of her solo, the bed was wheeled to another "room" stage right and Ilse, who had been lying on the bed during Martha's bit, sat up and sang her solo. And then the girls sang together kneeling on the bed, facing each other. At the end of the song, when the boys add in their vocals, they entered in a wedge-like formation--as each "There is a part I can't tell, about the dark I know well" rang out over and over, they took turns to one by one move the group forward towards where Martha and Ilse were on the bed, a boy in the back pushing through the others to the front, etc. etc. until they were almost at the threshold of the bedroom, hands outstretched, almost menacingly.

Blackout. 

And Then There Were None

First off: the beating scene. With the writing the [awkward] way it is and the shift in tone in the course of a few lines so jarring, so much of it hangs on the way the actors handle it. Both during the 1NT and my uni's production, there were peals of laughter throughout (albeit the uncomfortable kind), especially when Melchi says "Maybe not, with your dress on." which errs on the side of being delivered suggestively, even though that isn't in the stage directions whatsoever. 

Deaf West's was close to perfect. There was only ONE brief chuckle and it wasn't even the dress line!!!! That never happens????? I had my fingers crossed and our Melchi and Wendla handled everything so delicately from the start--there was never a question of the tone of the scene, you could hear a pin drop. 

Lights up on a single area--the Stiefel sitting room--center stage. Herr Stiefel is seated when Moritz walks in, crumpling in on himself with each forward step. We hear Moritz Voice say "Father...?" from offstage and Herr Stiefel stands up--the rest of the conversation was done completely in ASL without any of the text projected whatsoever. It didn't matter whether you were familiar with the show or not, the reactions were all too clear--the stiffening of Herr Steifel's jaw as he rises from his seat, Moritz's shoulders slumping, his father's sharp gestures (the flat ring of the back of one hand smacking repeatedly into the palm of the other).

A beat.

I heard the crack of the slap across Moritz's face; everyone in the audience felt it. And then again.

Herr Stiefel's gestures were becoming even more frantic, Moritz was in silent tears, and then we start getting text projections again: "FAILED. FAILED. FAILED. FAILED." wrapped around the walls in towering letters.

"Thank God my father never lived to see this day." Herr Stiefel said, without the assistance of his Voice. 

As the lights faded and came back up on ATTWN, we saw Moritz in his bedroom stage right, throwing things into a suitcase; his Voice was at the foot of the bed, looking up at him, while Frau Gabor was seated stage left, narrating the letter she's writing to him. Each time her narration started trailing off (and right before Moritz comes in), Otto's voice/bassist would interrupt her, counting off with a loud "1...2...3...4!" that drowned her out.

Moritz's Voice handed him the gun at the end of the number. 

Mirror Blue Night / I Believe

As the lights came back on, the stage was transitioned into the Act I finale: a stack of hay bales center stage and a row of chairs lined up across the front "edge" of the stage (if we had an elevated edge), facing inwards. 

The Broadway staging of MBN is probably the most visually stunning number in the show--the stage drenched in hazy blue while Melchior ascends on a hanging platform; as the platform rises, branches of pale white light descend, speckling the space like stars. Deaf Awakening took those ideas, but made them completely their own and what you get is just as visually striking with only a quarter of the tech involved. Melchi sings the entire song atop the hay bales, if I remember correctly. Most of the stage was dark and the girls were scattered around the back and side walls/stairs--as MBN began, they turned on flashlights, one by one. Then, out of the darkness, the rest of the cast entered and circled around Melchi, wearing gloves with lighted fingertips; as the final "There's no one to see who can see to my soul..." rang out, their hands stretched upwards towards Melchi as his hand stretched outwards, pleading. The only light left onstage by then was the ring of steady points illuminating Melchi's face (the final moment in the trailer). Full body chills, I'm telling you. Absolutely breathtaking. 

Our Wendla and Melchi had wonderful chemistry and the scene leading up to "I Believe" felt so, I don't know, sweet? Nothing felt forceful and they took their time with all the little touches and pauses and embraces. (Wendla's Voice knelt at the foot of the hay bales, looking up at them.) "I hear your heart..." was said so tenderly and Melchi was forward, but not aggressive in everything that followed? Does that make sense???? And Wendla reciprocated. 

While Melchi and Wendla were happening center stage, Ilse crossed the front of the stage with a thurbile in hand (definitely Googled "hanging incense thing" just now~), leading the rest of the cast behind her single file. As "I Believe" began and through the entire number, they all circled upstage to where Father Kaulbach was standing, each taking turns to receive Communion(??? I think???) and then taking a seat in the chairs downstage. 

Lights fade.

Act Two The Guilty Ones

I used some of my intermission time to chit-chat with my seat partners and get some reactions--they were all new to the show and loving it, which made me the one person anticipating things before they happened and getting the waterworks going prematurely the whole of the show, whoops~ 

Lights up on Father Kaulbach mid-sermon before the students and Melchi and Wendla now on top of the piano upstage left, assuming their hayloft positions from Act I closing. The piano was wheeled more center stage for "Guilty Ones" and they sang the entire song seated on top, toes almost scraping the keys even as Ernst's Voice/the pianist was playing. 

I feel terribly that I can't remember any more particulars about the staging in regards to what the rest of the cast were doing? But the impression I'm still nursing in my heart is a beautiful one. 

As the number was winding down, I saw Moritz come through the side door and cross the catwalk adjacent to ours, making his way down the stairs to the stage, hair disheveled. From onstage his Voice yelled out "Enough. Enough. ENOUGH!" (he rushed it a tad, in my opinion? And it lacked some urgency/anger, but otherwise excellent). 

The rest of the company dispersed. 

Don't Do Sadness / Blue Wind

Okay, so Act II of SA is essentially one long sobfest and it all starts with DDS/BW. The knots in your stomach wind tighter and your eyes sting and your hands are balling into fists because you know, you know what's coming even if you're completely new to the material. And the sorry fact is that you can't do anything--that all you can do is watch and that makes you feel equally culpable, in a way? There's so much tension and desperation, but the spoken interludes between the songs are so soft--laced with nostalgia and underscored with that simple piano melody.

There was a short crate/platform set up downstage right that Moritz stood on for DDS--his Voice may have held out the mic stand for him, but I'm not entirely sure. In any case, it was on point and our Moritz was so heartbreakingly good. His motions were more restrained and there was a palpable undercurrent of anger, but not the sort that was immediately obvious, if that even remotely makes sense? Like he'd been internalizing so much for so long and the emotions were only now finding their release, but in jagged fits and spurts.

When Ilse entered, Moritz gave a start and dropped the gun he'd retrieved from his pocket. Our Ilse? the most different interpretation I've seen. Far from the kind of calm and even chipper-in-the-face-of-tragic-circumstances characterizations I'm familiar with, ours was visibly erratic and distracted, down to the cadence of her voice. She had a knit shawl bunched around her and a sack thrown over her shoulder--it took her a moment to even notice Moritz. When she got to talking about Gustav Baum and "he woke me with a gun, set against my breast", she pulled a gun from her sack.

BW was haunting, but as I've said, it took me a few moments to adjust because I'm not used to it sung with lower voices! But I really enjoyed it once I got into it. In their little conversation that followed: when Moritz said "hiding in our wigwam..." his face lit up for just a moment and then it was gone as he strode back to his crate for "So maybe I should be some kinda' laundry line--" His shoulders had certain grim determination to them. 

The final exchange between Moritz and Ilse--devastating would be putting it mildly. There's always that hope that maybe this time, this time Moritz will say "yes", that he'll walk her home, but his voice cracked the moment he said "Good night, Ilse." Each of Ilse's responses were increasingly pleading and she barely managed to choke out "... by the time you finally wake up, I'll be lying on some trash heap." Moritz and his Voice moved to call after her, but she was gone. It was then that Moritz noticed Ilse's gun on the floor and as he picked it up, his Voice watched him with that same pleading look on his face before shaking his head, and walking offstage. 

Moritz stood on his box in a single, pale spotlight, his final monologue done in ASL sans any projections (I was filling in the words mentally, but I had the benefit of knowing~), the entire room absolutely silent. There wasn't any shifting, rustling, ANYTHING--it was so, so quiet. 

And then projected across the back wall, three times:

So dark.

So dark.

So dark...

Moritz set the gun to his temple and instead of a blackout there, a stand of vertical lamps a little ways adjacent to him flashed white, drowning the stage in blinding light. 

Moritz exited and a constable ran in. Ilse entered as well, clasping a hand over her mouth and letting out a strangled sob as she stopped short of where Moritz last stood. 

Blackout. 

Left Behind

And then "Left Behind" comes immediately after and there's no getting out of this one dry-eyed (if you are, magically, still emotionally intact), thanks for nothing Sheik and Sater. 

The boys (with the exception of Melchior) carried in a casket and set it downstage center. Each student took turns walking up and setting a spray of white flowers down on the lid, before taking one of the seats set up along the stage edge, facing inwards as before. 

Herr Stiefel was upstage left, going slowly through Moritz's open trunk on the bed (Melchior is standing just beyond the boundaries of the "room", singing)."All things he ever lived are left behind..." -- he pulled out a teddy bear and gently pressed it to his face before silently breaking down.

I was done.

Done d-done done done. Not in a 1000 years was I expecting that. That was not a kindness good g o d. 

Totally Fucked / Word of Your Body (Reprise)

Spotlight on Herr Knockenbruch and Fraulein Knuppeldick, who are standing at the top of the stairs fuming and scheming. The Adult Man's Voice is speaking from the stage and he brings Melchior forward to face his charges. When the Herr gets to "I am referring, as you may know, to a ten-page essay..." the Frau pulled out the offending document, and like one of those cartoon never-ending scrolls, the pages unfolded accordion-like from where the Adults stood at the top of the stairs and cascaded down a good few feet. It was a great bit of visual comedy and we certainly needed the laugh!!

As the first electric guitar chord sounded, Melchior and the Adult Man's Voice moved center stage (the latter standing in front of the former). TF started and right as Melchi got to "There's a moment you know...you're fucked--", he pushed the Adult Man's Voice to his knees in front of him. The Voice had a mic in his hands and held it with his arms stretched above him, giving Melchi an impromptu and brilliantly appropriate mic stand. The rest of the cast--with the exception of Adults still glowering from the top of the stairs--were scattered around the stage and throughout the audience aisles. 

The Adult Man Mic Stand left the stage at some point and the students gathered around Melchi as "Melchior Gabor, for the last time... DID YOU WRITE THIS?" was shouted from above. 

He BELLOWED the "YESSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!" and I was so stinkin' delighted. I looked down to the main seating area and Andy was like, stomping his little feet or something it was adorable. As Melchi was led away, he threw his arms out, both Fingers to the wind and I was crying happy tears it was incredible.

After TF, the piano was rolled center stage with Ernst perched on the top, washed in this lovely lilac and pale yellow light. Hanschen sauntered in and lifted himself easily up onto the piano beside Ernst.

Okay, so Hanschen's entire "think of the future as a pail of whole milk" analogy has always been hilarious, but our Hanschen delivered each line in a way that there wasn't a single shred of doubt in my mind that

it's masturbation

The motions he included and the look on his face as he said "One man sweats and stirs--churning it into butter" and "Another man frets. and spills his milk, and cries all night."

It's all masturbation. How I didn't hear it like that before puts my English lit student card to shame!!! Because when in doubt everything is phallic, don'tcha know???? 

AMAZING. 

WOYBR was crooned beautifully and when Hanschen leaned in to kiss Ernst the first time, Ernst's Voice--who was at their feet and tinkling the ivories--leaned back simultaneously and the fluid connected-ness of all these characters and their Voices was!!!!! As the song continued, Hanschen kissed Ernst again, dropping one hand to caress Ernst's Voice's hair/face (Ernst's Voice would stand a little and like, nuzzle into Hanschen's hand even as he continued playing piano for the song) and it was all quite touching even though Hanschen's a creep but it was really beautiful, really??? 

As they left arm in arm, Ernst handed Hanschen a bunch of flowers like the sweet puppy he is and just before they got offstage entirely, Hanschen threw the flowers over his shoulder with the most disdainful look on his face and 

it

was

perfect.

Whispering

(I'm so tired, because writing this is making me relive every moment and as sublime as that is, it's emotionally draining something awful. But it's 4:48 PM PST AND IT'S THE HOME STRETCH and if 'i don't write up an excruciatingly detailed play-by-play I won't be able to rest) 

I don't have too much to wax lyrical about in terms of "Whispering". It was vocally stunning and staged very simply, with Wendla in her bedroom upstage center. The light shifted downstage left to where the Gabors were deciding Melchior's fate and then back upstage for the end of the song--Wendla had risen from her bed. Lights fade. 

All the boys left were gathered around the piano center stage for the reformatory scene--Otto's Voice had even moved his bass closer to the action, jacket removed and his shirt unevenly tucked like a proper scoundrel. The scene goes with perfect sneers and jeers, Melchi's flare of rage, then shock.

The scene onstage froze and spotlight on Frau Bergman meeting with a mysterious man on the upstairs catwalk. He just signs and gestures, but Frau Bergman's worried responses fill in whatever blanks we had as to his purpose. 

The boys in the reformatory cleared the stage and our attention was turned back upstairs, but this time it was Frau Bergman, leading a frightened Wendla. As the pair (Wendla's Voice was speaking from onstage) hurried down the stairs to the stage, the rest of the cast surged on and in the darkness stood shoulder to shoulder, backs turned towards the audience, as a tightly zigzagging human wall. It was so perfectly smothering and they locked in so quickly--one of those "I'd clap right now if it weren't utterly silent" moments. Wendla's mother pulled her through the alleyway and we saw the Man beckoning from the other end--Wendla's Voice, who had been beside her the whole time, cried: "Mama, don't leave me! Mama??!!!" and the pair were wrenched apart as the Man took Wendla offstage. 

Those You've Known

Spotlight on Melchi, who's entered on the upstairs catwalk, a lamp in his hand. He cast about before taking a rope (there were several pairs of ropes hanging from ceiling to floor around the perimeter of the stage in a half circle; one of them was in front of my face, actually, but they weren't thick ropes so my view wasn't disrupted) and tying it around the lamp's handle, slowly lowering it down to the stage floor. The stage was dark, but we could still see chairs set up--not like the classroom scenes, more staggered--and a cast member in each seat (Voices who were also in the band aside). Melchi warily descended the stairs and slowly picked his way between the chairs, touching a still shoulder here and another there (headstones, maybe?). 

Cue me wading through a fresh batch of tears as he read Wendla's fresh grave and collapsed to the floor, his entire body wracked by sobs.

The first few piano notes and the soft scrape of strings started.

The bed used throughout the show had been tucked in the upstage left corner and the trunk was still open on top. "Those you've known, and lost, still walk behind you..." Moritz rose from the open trunk, the side of his head bloodied, suspended in the light that radiated from below him.

I freaked out.

Very momentarily, but that was NOT the entrance I was expecting and wow wow wow talk about effective. 

Wendla's entrance was less surprising (but no less chill-inducing) and as Melchior pulled out the straight razor, Moritz climbed completely out of the trunk and crossed the stage to join them. Wendla and Moritz's Voices were singing from off to the sides, so all eyes were downstage center on our trio. 

Again, I can't reaaaaallly remember all the fine details of the staging because my eyes were swimming at that point, but I do know Melchi pulled his friends to his sides, I do know they slowly left, I do know the light faded to a single point on him and his "And one day all will know..." was one of the most gorgeous notes I heard in a show filled with standout vocal performances. 

Blackout.

Song of Purple Summer

The entire company came onstage, a handful of them carrying a giant roll of white drop curtain(?) between them. They each found a chair (left on from the previous scene) and all undressed until they were down to white undergarments--shifts, boxers and tanks, bare feet. Those with the drop attached it to the ropes around the stage and hoisted it up (so that's what the ropes were for!!!), unfurling a backdrop of pure white for "Purple Summer". 

And it was magical. Nothing short of magical. Nothing to distract the senses--just this honesty and unimaginable talent before you, every heart on every sleeve. 

For the ending a cappella section, the entire company came forward to the edge of the stage, holding hands--Melchi in the center of the line with Wendla and Moritz flanking him and Wendla and Moritz's Voices beside their actors. As the song wound down, cast members began walking offstage in twos: Wendla and Moritz first, they went to hold open a doorway in the center of the drop through which the rest of the cast exited. Hanschen picked Anna up out of her wheelchair and my crying efforts redoubled.

The song naturally faded as cast members left the stage until we were left, at last, with Melchi alone, not singing, but signing the final measures. He eventually walked off too and the drop fluttered shut behind him, silhouettes fading behind the lighted curtain.

Blackout.

Standing fucking ovation. 

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I don't know how I got from my seat back downstairs to the lobby, but there was some stumbling, completely shaken and wordless, into the sunlight outside and haphazardly down the courtyard stairs. 

Andy was waiting to greet the cast and crew, so I managed to swap some post-show words with him--it was his first time seeing the production in full since he helped workshop it and he said some other things, but all I could manage was vague hand gestures and dazed mumbling. Just as well, because he was very quickly swarmed by the cast members exiting the theatre into the lobby.

I didn't stick around too long, but at one point the pianist/Ernst's Voice was talking to some people beside me and it was uncanny--he wasn't nearly as tall, but pale ginger with killer cheekbones playing Ernst?

It was like the second coming of Blake Daniel. 

And apparently he learned piano for the show, so you go Not-Blake Daniel!!!!!

Gabby [Garza] was unoccupied and I managed to push through the adoring crowds to tell her that I saw her way back when in the 1NT. She was so surprised and an absolute sweetheart!! And we both gushed about Deaf West's production and how it took an already amazing show and expanded on and reinvented it in ways beyond our wildest dreams.

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Those rapturous reviews? I'm one of them. 

It's hard to think now of Spring Awakening done any other way--Deaf West added so much to the story, got at something even more truthful. And I'm holding out hope that they'll make a quality recording of it (there must be more footage they didn't include in the trailer!) because everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, needs to experience what I had the good, good fortune to. 

It's transformative.