As you know, this week I am in New York visiting my best friend, Farrah, who performed at her first open mic. (She was amazing, by the way, but I’ll write another post on that later.) We’ve always been there for each other, and despite us moving to completely opposites parts of the country, I had to be there for her because I know she would do the same for me, and I was really excited to hear about her first show. Even though this was her weekend to be celebrated, she treated me to the most amazing experience. Are you ready for it? She was somehow able to snag us tickets to see Hamilton!
You would not believe the ear-shattering scream I let out in the middle of the street when she told me that we would be attending this show. Lucky for me, I only got a few annoyed side glances from the busy New Yorkers hurrying to their destination, and I’m sure that was only because I’d stopped walking and was holding up the traffic on the sidewalk. What did I do to deserve such an amazing best friend?
I know you’re asking, “Lizzie, is Hamilton as amazing as everyone says it is?”
No, it isn’t.
IT’S SO MUCH BETTER!
I’ll try to explain without making this sound like some critic’s critique of the show. I’m a much more emotional creature than that, and I try to capture feelings in words and music. So, bear with on this.
It’s difficult to describe the feelings in the air when you’re doing a show. Granted, I’ve only done small shows, but I still understand the energy. There’s something amazing about the buzz that thrums in the air as you’re preparing for a show. Everyone’s energy coalesces together and causes the electricity to ignite your nerves. This is what you’ve practiced for and what you’ve dreamed about, and there’s this feeling of excitement tinged nervousness that settles in your stomach as you think about all the things that can go right and all the things that could go wrong. And your heart is pounding, and you don’t know how you’re going to keep it together in front of so many people. And then… the curtain rises, and for one moment, you’re blinded. Then, you open your mouth and you start singing. Suddenly, nothing else matters, but putting your heart and soul into this song.
That’s what it felt like to watch Hamilton. Even though I wasn’t part of the cast, I could still taste that excitement. I felt like I was on the stage with these immensely talented men and women. It was so much more potent than anything I’d ever felt during my own shows. My heart was beating in excitement. I laughed. I cried. I cheered loudly. I was totally caught up in the moment, and I don’t know if I’ll ever have another experience that’s so sublime as this one. But I can dream that I do. I’m grateful that I had a chance to experience this breathtaking show. I think it’s an experience everyone should have at least once.
Now, excuse me. I’m going to go to sleep and dream about the day when I’m on that stage pulling the same emotions from a girl who moved from the midwest to chase her musical dreams.