Nostalgic singing at midnight!
I recorded this in the car, my cell propped up on my dashboard, as I drove home from the show tonight and I’m not even sure how it turned out, BUT! There’s a story here. Hear me out. Then, if you decide to listen, awesome! If not, totally no worries.
When I was a wee lass (oh, about 12-years-old), my parents and I drove up to New York City to visit friends. Whenever we visit, these friends like to get us tickets to see a show on Broadway, and this time they got us tickets to a show I had never heard of - “Jekyll & Hyde: The Musical.” I was, of course, familiar with the story (being a nerd and raging bibliophile even at that tender age), but I had never heard the music and we had no idea what to expect. Add to the that the fact that David Hasselhoff was playing Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde, and it was bound to be a crazy night!
We all have those moments in our lives that change us for better or worse. I can honestly say that that night - that that show -- was a turning point for me: I fell in love with theater and I never looked back. So many things happened in the years that followed as a result of “Jekyll & Hyde,” including my becoming involved in community theater, joining the school choir, becoming an intern at the college for their summer theater program, and even learning about the university I ended up attending from the actors and actresses who performed in that program.
There are so many things I love about that show, but I know that one of the reasons I fell so hard was because one of the main characters just blew me away. Her name was Lucy, and she had long, brown curly hair JUST LIKE ME and she was a mezzo-soprano JUST LIKE ME. I can’t even tell you how cool I thought it was to see the actress (Colleen Sexton) belting out songs ilke “Someone Like You” and “A New Life.” I fell in love. As soon as we got home, I started telling my friends all about the show, organizing our own mini production, staging duets with my best friend, and yes, writing fan-fiction. I wanted to be Lucy so badly because she was spunky, she was strong, she knew what she wanted, she had an amazing voice, she WORKED it on stage, and even though she died at the end, she was absolutely the best character in the show.
I’m rambling, I know, but to sum up: Lucy Harris became my totem. The fact that she was a prostitute was a strange thing for little preteen me to grasp, but I know that part of what drew me to her was how comfortable she was in her own skin. She was sexy. She was seductive. And I’ve never felt that way. That didn’t matter much to me when I was a wee thing, but as I’ve grown, I know that I’ve struggled with appreciating the way I look, and although I always wanted to be Lucy, I never thought I could pull it off. The corset and jacket outfit she wears in “Good and Evil” alone was an ensemble I both coveted and never dreamed of actually wearing.
Until this spring, when my choir began mounting it’s musical revue and I was drafted to be one of the chair-seducing, cell-block grinding dancers in “Cell Block Tango” and a classy prostitute in a rendition of “Eadie Was a Lady.” My choir mates’ confidence in me, the hours of practice we put in, the fact that every single person in that choir has become so dear to me and are incredibly supportive and loving - all those things gave me the confidence I needed to put on a black corset, fishnets, and high heels, and seduce the hell out of some inanimate objects (and a lovely gay man, bless him). Rarely have I felt so good about the way I look, and for the first time tonight, I really thought “I could be Lucy Harris.” I have my choir family to thank for that.
So in honor of a great second show and because Lucy was on my mind as I changed out of my costume, I decided to record myself singing the first song that Lucy sings on stage: “No One Knows Who I Am.” Just like I put myself out there with my costume and my dancing, I’m throwing a little bit of impromptu music out there as well. Judge it as you will, but know that it is an homage to one of the shows (and one of the characters) that is nearest and dearest to my heart.
When I was a wee lass (oh, about 12-years-old), my parents and I drove up to New York City to visit friends. Whenever we visit, these friends like to get us tickets to see a show on Broadway, and this time they got us tickets to a show I had never heard of - “Jekyll & Hyde: The Musical.” I was, of course, familiar with the story (being a nerd and raging bibliophile even at that tender age), but I had never heard the music and we had no idea what to expect. Add to the that the fact that David Hasselhoff was playing Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde, and it was bound to be a crazy night!
We all have those moments in our lives that change us for better or worse. I can honestly say that that night - that that show -- was a turning point for me: I fell in love with theater and I never looked back. So many things happened in the years that followed as a result of “Jekyll & Hyde,” including my becoming involved in community theater, joining the school choir, becoming an intern at the college for their summer theater program, and even learning about the university I ended up attending from the actors and actresses who performed in that program.
There are so many things I love about that show, but I know that one of the reasons I fell so hard was because one of the main characters just blew me away. Her name was Lucy, and she had long, brown curly hair JUST LIKE ME and she was a mezzo-soprano JUST LIKE ME. I can’t even tell you how cool I thought it was to see the actress (Colleen Sexton) belting out songs ilke “Someone Like You” and “A New Life.” I fell in love. As soon as we got home, I started telling my friends all about the show, organizing our own mini production, staging duets with my best friend, and yes, writing fan-fiction. I wanted to be Lucy so badly because she was spunky, she was strong, she knew what she wanted, she had an amazing voice, she WORKED it on stage, and even though she died at the end, she was absolutely the best character in the show.
I’m rambling, I know, but to sum up: Lucy Harris became my totem. The fact that she was a prostitute was a strange thing for little preteen me to grasp, but I know that part of what drew me to her was how comfortable she was in her own skin. She was sexy. She was seductive. And I’ve never felt that way. That didn’t matter much to me when I was a wee thing, but as I’ve grown, I know that I’ve struggled with appreciating the way I look, and although I always wanted to be Lucy, I never thought I could pull it off. The corset and jacket outfit she wears in “Good and Evil” alone was an ensemble I both coveted and never dreamed of actually wearing.
Until this spring, when my choir began mounting it’s musical revue and I was drafted to be one of the chair-seducing, cell-block grinding dancers in “Cell Block Tango” and a classy prostitute in a rendition of “Eadie Was a Lady.” My choir mates’ confidence in me, the hours of practice we put in, the fact that every single person in that choir has become so dear to me and are incredibly supportive and loving - all those things gave me the confidence I needed to put on a black corset, fishnets, and high heels, and seduce the hell out of some inanimate objects (and a lovely gay man, bless him). Rarely have I felt so good about the way I look, and for the first time tonight, I really thought “I could be Lucy Harris.” I have my choir family to thank for that.
So in honor of a great second show and because Lucy was on my mind as I changed out of my costume, I decided to record myself singing the first song that Lucy sings on stage: “No One Knows Who I Am.” Just like I put myself out there with my costume and my dancing, I’m throwing a little bit of impromptu music out there as well. Judge it as you will, but know that it is an homage to one of the shows (and one of the characters) that is nearest and dearest to my heart.