Skip to main content

Spring Awakening

 We're celebrating the five-year anniversary of the Deaf West Broadway production of "Spring Awakening." This is a show that has a special place in my heart. The original Broadway production--years before Deaf West--launched three now-massive names: Lea Michele, Jonathan Groff, and Tony-winner John Gallagher.


Also, the score has several canonical moments for theater nerds: "The Bitch of Living," "My Junk," "Mama who Bore Me."


Any story involves a stranger coming to town, and in "Spring Awakening," the stranger is puberty. The kids in the show--residents of 1800s Germany--have no understanding of sex or childbirth; if they ask an adult about conception, they're told this just happens "when you love someone very, very much." Alienation and miscommunication and pain lead to tragedy: One boy, drowning at school, ends up committing suicide. Another student winds up dead during a botched abortion; like Rapunzel, she hadn't really understood her pregnancy, hadn't even understood why her dress was beginning to get tighter.


It's rare to hear a distinctive literary "voice" in Broadway lyrics--but Steven Sater really did whatever he wanted in "Spring Awakening." He understood that kids post-9/11 would just inherently grasp what these German village characters were going through. Why not dissolve all barriers? Why not have a character sing (in an anachronistic way) about stereos and "handling things" and being "totally fucked"? The results were memorable. The character on stage might be carrying a parasol, but she is saying (to a crush):


You have to excuse me....I know it's so off....

I love when you do stuff that's rude and so wrong....

I go up to my room, turn the stereo on....

Shoot up some you, and the you is some song.....

 

Or a youth in knickerbockers might have this observation:


In the midst of this nothing....this mess of a life....

Still, there's this one thing, to see you go by....

It's almost like loving, sad as that is....

May not be cool, but it's so where I live.....

 

I really, really loved this show, and I'm happier to recall simpler times--five years ago--when you could just walk a few blocks to the theater and see it live. The Deaf West production was one of the early dates I had with my then-boyfriend, now-husband. So inspiring to take a look at these smart lyrics. I'd love to see this as a movie at some point.

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

How to Host a Baby

-You have assumed responsibility for a mewling, puking ball of life, a yellow-lab pup. He will spit his half-digested kibble all over your shoes, all over your hard-cover edition of Jennifer Haigh's novel  Faith . He will eat your tables, your chairs, your "I {Heart] Montessori" magnet, placed too low on the fridge. When you try to watch Bette Davis in  Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte , on your TV, your dog will bark through the murder-prologue, for no apparent reason. He will whimper through Lena Dunham's  Girls , such that you have to rewind several times to catch every nuance of Andrew Rannells's ad-libbing--and, still, you'll have a nagging suspicion you've missed something. Your dog will poop on the kitchen floor, in the hallway, between the tiny bars of his crate. He'll announce his wakefulness at 5 AM, 2 AM, or while you and another human are mid-coitus. All this, and you get outside, and it's: "Don't let him pee on my tulips!" When...
3 comments
Read more

Joshie

  When I was growing up, a class birthday involved Hostess cupcakes. Often, the cupcakes would come in a shoebox, so you could taste a leathery residue (during the party). Times change. You can't bring a treat into a public school, in 2024, because heaven knows what kind of allergies might lurk, in unseen corners, in the classroom. But Joshua's teacher will allow: a dance party, a pajama day, or a guest reader. I chose to bring a story for Joshua's birthday (observed), but I didn't think through the role that anxiety might play in this interaction. We talk, in this house, quite a bit about anxiety; one game-changer, for J, has been a daily list of activities, so that he knows exactly what to expect. He gets a look of profound satisfaction when he sees the agenda; it doesn't really matter what the specific events happen to be. It's just about knowing, "I can anticipate X, Y, and Z." Joshua struggled with his celebration. He wore his nervousness on his f...
2 comments
Read more

Josh at Five

 Joshie's project is "flexibility"; the goal is to see that a plan is just an idea, not a gospel, not a guarantee. This is difficult. Yesterday, we went to a restaurant--billed as "open," with unlocked doors--and the owner informed us of an "error in advertising." But Joshie couldn't accept the word "closed." He threw himself on the floor, then climbed on the furniture. I felt for the owner, until he nervously made a reference to "the glass windows." He imagined that my child might toss himself through a sealed window, like Mary Katherine Gallagher, or like Bruce Willis, in "Die Hard." Then--thank the Lord!--I was able to laugh. The thing that really has therapeutic value for Joshie is: a firetruck. If we are out in public, and he spots a parked truck, he wants to climb on each surface. He breathlessly alludes to the wheels, the door, the windows. If an actual fire station ("fire ocean," in Joshie's parla...
Post a Comment
Read more