Excerpt of my manuscript

 

Since I've written a memoir with way too many words, I'm now taking out bits and pieces but it's a shame to just toss them away, so here's a piece about my year in the States as an exchange student.

 

Especially the Phantom of the Opera’s music by Andrew Lloyd Webber tears at my heartstrings. It’s exquisite, haunting, thrilling, and melancholic with a visceral tug while being simultaneously beautiful, elegant, and romantic. I didn’t expect that by looking at the poster going in, this weird half-masked man did nothing to stir my emotions, but how appearances can be deceiving. This truly is a don’t-judge-a-book-by-its-cover kind of thing. He turns out to be a deformed composer who haunts the grand Paris Opera House. Living sheltered in an underground cavern, the lonely, romantic man tutors and composes operas for Christine, a gorgeous young soprano star-to-be. And boy oh boy, those wonderful Victorian costumes. The gorgeous period costumes instantly transport you to another place and the grand, fantastical, gothic sets blow my mind. The subterranean gondola and cave leave me utterly breathless. It’s like a gothic Fairytale sprung to life. The storyline stirs my soul, Christine must choose between two lovers; one dark and mysterious, a creature of the night, a brilliant musician, inventor, engineer and conjuror, the Angel of Music named the Phantom, Christine’s tutor, genius and guardian, and the other the exact opposite; the embodiment of prince Charming, a handsome man, attractive and appealing, a son of light and daytime named Raoul. Somehow it moves me deeply. Whenever Christine starts singing, her exquisite, bewitching voice makes tears stream down my cheeks. This is what a voice is supposed to sound like. She sings like an angel. And when the Phantom sings with his sublime voice instantly the same thing happens; my throat swells up and hot tears run down my face. I discover I’m clearly in favor of him as nothing of the sort happens when Raoul sings, it’s beautiful but not soul-stirring. The poignant music with the magical harmonium, entire orchestra, sensational piano and guitar and the brilliant lyrics are unforgettable.

 

Somehow, it feels to me like she must choose between an old, troubled soul who irresistibly draws her near with his deep, undying love, and a young, still innocent soul who wants to love her in a wholesome way and whom she’s familiar with and has affection for. But with him it’s not the profound, passionate, life-altering love she shares with the Phantom. But I feel it’s also a choice between the soul, the intuition, the ‘dark’ world of the subconscious where dreams and true inspiration live, and creating brilliant music together and becoming intoxicated with love, and on the other side the consciousness and the ordinary world of the senses. Little do I understand yet of the tempestuous, pivotal, heart-piercing, everlasting love represented by the Phantom and the fearful choice that entails going past the point of no return and how much my real life will resemble this story, love triangle, sadness and all. When the curtain falls, I whoop and scream so loud my voice becomes hoarse and my hands turn red and hurt from clapping so hard.

 

The Little Shop of Horrors is an off-Broadway rock musical horror comedy with a little dark side as well. It’s about a florist shop worker Seymour who’s in love with Audrey. He buys a weird Chinese plant during a solar eclipse, but it turns out to be vicious and feeds on human blood. He discovers this after accidentally pricking his finger. The plant, called Audrey II shouts with a deep male voice; ‘Feed me!’, and the nerdy shop worker feeds it his own blood. The plant begins to talk to Seymour, demanding more and more blood. It proposes Seymour murder someone in exchange for fame and fortune. At first, Seymour refuses, but then he relents and kills Audrey’s abusive boyfriend and feeds him to the plant who turns out to be an alien from outer space. Seymour kills it to protect humanity. The story has a happy ending; he marries his beloved Audrey. Nevertheless, in the end scene an Audrey II bud is growing in their garden, smiling sardonically. Then suddenly, all the theatre lights go out. In the pitch-blackness huge vines, lianas and creepers fall from the ceiling unto the shocked audience. They land on our heads and in our laps. Nobody expected this or saw it coming and we all scream and squeal with fright. The lights come back on and we realize the vines aren’t real, and we aren’t really under attack by aliens; they’re merely part of the play and we hoot and applaud like crazy. They really had us going there for a moment. What a delightfully shocking experience. It’s wonderful to be so involved in a show, so engaged that for a few seconds we were convinced it was real. And afterwards, like a true tourist I buy a tiny plastic Audrey II plant. It’s a money box where you can feed a coin into the plants’ mouth and it’s just too darn cute.

 

And finally Andrew Lloyd Webber's musical; Cats, Winner of 7 Tony Awards. It’s the closing of the week, we’ve all completed the choreo, danced our solo’s and passed the Masterclass, so obviously we’re all deeply emotionally connected when we get to see the real deal. All our hard work, blood, sweat, and tears are nothing compared to this wondrous, fantastical production. The beautiful dancers don’t enter on stage but walk in through the audience all outfitted as cats, their faces painted into cats faces and big Cat ears stuck on their heads. They even advance, move, walk, and behave like cats. It’s phantastic. They rub their heads on people in the public, get petted by them, lick their paws and purr. They’re naughty and sprightly, and taunt and chase each other like real-life cats. Suddenly, I feel a big head glide underneath my right arm, I quickly pull my elbow up from the arm rest and look down. It’s one of the ‘Cats’ and he’s cheekily grinning up at me. I laugh out loud, he butts his head against my shoulder, purrs a little and walks on. He’s dressed in a white bodysuit with gold and black stripes along his flanks like a tiger and I must admit, he’s quite a sexy cat. I’m so happy I got an aisle seat. It’s wonderful to see their suppleness, agility, and flexibility.

 

Dancers are the perfect people to embody the limberness, elasticity, litheness, and innate grace of cats. The musical tells the story of the Jellicle cats’ tribe and their antics, and their individual quest to be the lucky one to ascend to ‘the Heaviside Layer’ and reincarnate into a new cat life amongst their own tribe. The most famous song ‘Memory’ is known and loved by everyone. The story is completely told through music with almost no spoken dialogue in between. Dance is also a key element, especially the 10-minute Jellicle Ball dance which is the sequence we learned all week, so unquestionably I watch it with tears rolling down my cheeks.

 

I’m in heaven.

 

My artist website; www.aurora.exto.nl

 

 

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