Friends, we have just opened the show this past weekend. It’s been a whirlwind process, and it was so lovely to see so many of you there. We hope to see more of you this coming weekend, especially at Victorian Ball!
I’m excited to introduce this week’s blog poster, Brad A. Latilla-Campbell ’16, who has been one of my dedicated co-producers (shoutout to the other, Emma R. Adler ’16). Apologies for the late post; things were rather chaotic through opening weekend.
Written by Brad Latilla-Campbell
There is nothing quite like Opening Night – the moment when months of hard work, hours of building, rehearsing, painting and singing are finally put on show to friends, family and the public. The nervous energy that crackles like electricity in your stomach and the slightly cold sweat that always makes you worry about your freshly applied make-up cannot be found anywhere else.
I am most used to being on the other side of the curtain, on the stage itself, as the visible face of a team effort. This time, however, I sat in anticipation with the rest of the opening night audience, wondering what spectacle would be presented to us when the curtains finally did open and the lights came up. This experience was totally different: a kind of nervousness that could not be calmed until the curtain came down at the end of the show. The idea of the experience not being in my hands at all was at once both terrifying and the week’s greatest relief.
Of course, one standard curtain speech and a rousing rendition of God Save the Queen later, we were underway – and what a show it was! The capes flashed, the wings flapped and the wands waved; the orchestra was in full force and the crowd was laughing uproariously. The lights and set transported us to a magical forest, and then into the gardens of Westminster; the songs filled the theater with the light-hearted whimsy of the Gilbert & Sullivan spirit, while the music kept us enthralled throughout the night. And as the curtain closed, and I turned my attention to the cheese awaiting me at the reception, I realized happily, as I always do, that this seemingly once in a lifetime feeling will be coming back next semester.