Thursday, August 31, 2017

The Summer of Notre Dame


Last week, Fredericia Teater's production of The Hunchback of Notre Dame closed for good.

Funny how, even though my personal last time seeing the production was over a month ago, I still felt a jolt of sadness on Saturday. Now it's really over. No more behind-the-scenes Instagram photos from the cast, no more fans sharing their feelings about yesterday's performance on Facebook. No more knowing that even though I can't be there in Copenhagen to see the night's show, someone else is, and they're having the time of their life.

This won't be a long post, since I've already written a review, another review and an interview. But here are some finishing thoughts. I think this adventure, seeing a long-time favourite musical live for the first time and all that followed, deserves that.

I'll keep repeating this until I'm too old to remember that night anymore – I've never experienced anything like the October 2016 premiere of this production was. Here's how actor Lars Mølsted (Quasimodo) described it to me when I met him in July:

"Just after the show, I met with the director Thomas Agerholm backstage. We were literally just standing there and shaking our heads to each other for ten seconds, thinking, 'I don’t know what just happened'."

I think it wasn't just the cast and the director who felt that way – I believe every single person in the theatre that night shared the feeling. I remember how, walking back to our hotel, me and my friend were also shaking our heads. What just happened, indeed.

I've tried, but I still cannot find the exact right words to convey what I felt there. Those two and a half hours, nothing outside that theatre mattered.

I saw The Hunchback of Notre Dame four times this July, twice in Berlin and twice in Copenhagen. In retrospect, the Berlin production was a bit of a disappointment – the more I think about it, the more I feel the design and the direction of the production didn't bring out the best in the script (read my full review). Though of course, had I not seen Fredericia Teater's production at all, I would probably be writing a different review about the Berlin version now...

I'm happy I got to take two friends with me to see the Copenhagen performances this summer. I know extreme enthusiasm, like mine, is usually off-putting rather than enticing. But I'm glad they agreed to come with me, and I'm glad they enjoyed themselves, too. It's good to have people with whom you can share something like this, to know that you're not the only one you know who remembers the experience.

It has been a long time since a musical has really, really touched me, not only my mind but also my soul. I've seen hundreds of theatrical performances, but honestly, I can only think of two other occasions when a production has hit me this hard. I know this is going to be one of those where, years from now, I can watch a fantastic production of the very same musical and think, yes, this is very nice – but still, it is not like that production was. I'll keep trying to find something that'd make me feel like this production did.

This is why I'm a theatre fan, to have experiences like this. Even if – or maybe just because – theatre is so fleeting and once the experience is over, you'll never have it back.

Here are two videos from the curtain call of the last performance. I couldn't be there, but I know how everybody in the audience felt like. I know that excitement, that rush of adrenaline. I'm glad I got to be there earlier this summer, and I'm glad everyone cheering on those videos got to be there, too.

I'm glad we got to share this.



P.S. I'd be lying if I didn't mention that having my piece about Fredericia Teater's Hunchback published in Finland's biggest subscription newspaper – a first for me – wasn't the highlight of my summer. How about that!!

1 comment:

  1. "No more knowing that even though I can't be there in Copenhagen to see the night's show, someone else is, and they're having the time of their life."

    I know this feeling. Too well.

    ReplyDelete