Hadestown

The first time I heard of the Broadway musical Hadestown was at a staff meeting for our high school theatre program.  People on the staff had gone to see the show and came back raving about it, calling it an "instant favorite."  They said it involved the Greek myth of Orpheus and Eurydice, including Hades and Persephone, but those were really all the details I was given.

Several months later, in June of 2023, I was a chaperone for a group of our theatre kids on a trip to New York City.  The main thrust of these trips, which happen periodically, is to see several Broadway productions (we saw seven shows during that trip).  The first show we saw, the day we arrived, was Sweeney Todd, starring Josh Groban, and it was excellent.  We had four pre-planned shows, leaving three openings for each of us to pick which shows we wanted to see.  Our director and technical director encouraged me to see Hadestown but still didn't say much in the way of specifics.  Since they had already seen it, they went to another show, and all the students accompanied me to the Walter Kerr theater to see Hadestown.

I went in knowing nothing about the music, the setting, the costumes, or the cast.  As it turns out, it's pretty much a single set show with only a few moving parts, and sort of resembles how you might imagine a New Orleans speakeasy would have looked a century ago.  It features a live band right on the stage.  When the cast stepped out on stage to begin the production, they were joined by Lillias White in the role of Hermes.  I almost fell over in surprise.  I had been a fan of hers for over twenty years and never thought I would be lucky enough to see her in person.  So my excitement level skyrocketed.  In that moment I realized just how blindly I had walked in, but it was thrilling to experience the show while having no expectations.

Hadestown is more of a minimalist production than most Broadway shows.  In the book she wrote about how it was written and developed, composer-lyricist Anäis Mitchell explained that if they got too literal with the imagery, the message of the show became muddled.  The more they left things to the audience’s imagination, the more powerful it became.

At the end of Act One, the set expands as Orpheus travels to the underworld.  I'll never forget the faces of a couple of our theatre students as that happened.  It's not the most spectacular effect, yet it was uncannily effective.  A majority of the cast stay on stage throughout most of the show, and somehow it never feels crowded.  An intimate moment at one end of the stage is being watched by characters who are only feet away, but it doesn't rob the moment of its poignancy.

By the end of the show, I knew I'd seen something special.  It was almost overwhelming, like I didn't know how to take it all in and comprehend the effect it had on me.  I've had awe-inspiring moments watching theatre productions before, but nothing like this.  When I reported to a fellow staff member how much I loved the show, she asked, "What part made you cry?"  And I realized that I hadn't gotten emotional like that (which is atypical for me).  But I sure did later the more I listened to the soundtrack.  I specifically recall driving home from work one day while "Wait for Me (Reprise)" was playing in my car and I had tears streaming down my face.

After seeing the show, I quickly bought everything I could: the soundtrack CD, the merchandise, the souvenir program, Anäis Mitchell's book (Working on a Song), the sheet music.  I set about becoming as familiar with the show as I could.  Out of the seven shows I saw during that NYC trip, of which Hadestown was only the second, it was the show that I thought about the most, the one that lingered in my mind and reverberated in my heart.  An instant favorite, indeed.

A year later, our theatre production staff decided to do Hadestown: Teen Edition for our fall 2024 show.  The thought of it thrilled and frightened me.  The thought of getting our hands on the script and music and having the privilege to perform such rich material was exciting beyond belief.  But our staff have high standards, and the only way I could imagine maintaining the integrity of the show was to have a live band on stage, and that alone seemed very daunting.

Our production of the show had nineteen highly talented students in the cast and a seven-piece band, including me at the piano.  Some of the kids in the show seemed born to play their respective roles.  I wish I could have taken pictures from my corner of the stage, because some of the images I saw were so striking and beautiful.  I still can't believe we pulled it off.  What an honor to be a small part of something so special.

I just recently saw Hadestown again in New York City, this time with my sister and her husband and youngest daughter.  It was an entirely new cast, and they were every bit as good as you could hope for.  There wasn't a weak link anywhere, and in my eyes, the actors for Persephone and Orpheus were exceptional.  Seeing a live production again with a new cast can make you worry that it won't have the same power.  I had not one shred of disappointment.

And this time, I cried.  This time I knew the story back to front, every note of the music, every lyric, and every pause written into the script.  And it was still emotionally devastating.  If I was a bit blindsided the first time, by now my heart and mind have surrendered to the power of the storytelling.   The opening number, "Road to Hell," is such a clever beginning, providing an up-tempo song to hook the audience and get us clapping our hands and stomping our feet.  But no one seeing the show for the first time realizes when the actors sing, "It's a sad song, it's a tragedy," that they're dead serious.  By the time we hear the slow reprise at the end of the show, the words have taken on their true meaning, and we are deeply surprised because we didn't know what effect the show was going to have on us a mere two and a half hours later.

I could go on about every song in the show, but I'll refrain.  I'll mention that "All I've Ever Known" is one of the most romantic songs I can name and somehow becomes even more romantic during the reprise.  "Wait for Me" is probably my favorite.  Something about Orpheus's pleading and the swinging lights and the fog . . . it all adds up to something unexpectedly powerful (how many times have I used that word?).  And finishing with "We Raise Our Cups" after the bows is a truly touching finale to a uniquely touching show.

A few months ago, during the performances of another high school theatre production, a former student asked me what my favorite show was to perform in the last two or three years.  Without hesitation, without having to even think about it, I said Hadestown.  I sincerely love most of the shows I've worked on and have had some amazing experiences.  Nothing has resonated with me like Hadestown, though.  An instant favorite—for sure.

One of the brilliant touches in Hadestown is at the end, when Hermes tells us, "It's a sad song, but we sing it anyway.  We're gonna sing it again."  I love sad songs.  They help me slow down and work through difficult emotions and help me process grief and pain.  I'll listen to them over and over.  It brings catharsis.  I can't explain why.  All I know is that Hadestown does the same thing for me, and I hope to see it again.