[With our oldest continuing her post-graduate studies on campus in Boston this semester, I asked her to contribute a post each month about her experience.]
by Kelsey Handler
Part I of IV
The day I was born, The Phantom of the Opera had been on Broadway for nearly two years. Fifteen years later, I saw it onstage for the first time in Houston with my father, who was seeing it for the sixth time. The relationship between father and daughter is a central theme in the story, so it’s appropriate my dad passed on his love of both Phantom and musical theatre. When I was growing up, he would often serenade me with “Christine Kelsey, I looOOoove you.”
A few weeks ago, it was announced that Phantom will have its final performance in February, ending its tenure as the longest-running Broadway show (though it will be almost a decade before any other show has the chance to take its crown).
The day after this news dropped, I extended an already-planned trip to New York City the following week and bought tickets to Andrew Lloyd Webber’s masterpiece, something I had missed in seven previous times there. When the production is on Broadway my entire life – when it is practically synonymous with Broadway itself – I prioritized seeing other shows that might not be there for my next visit. But with its end in sight, I knew this was the time, and I spent more money than I should have as a grad student with loans.
No regrets. It was an incredible performance, and I only wish my dad was there to share the experience with me. I expected to tear up at the beginning when the chandelier rises above the audience to that famous eighties synth theme. What I didn’t expect was my senses abandoning their defenses at the end as a wave of ugly crying washed over me, when the weight of what this musical means to me and so many hit*. In that final moment, I was struck by how music heightens each sensation, wakes imagination, captures our memories, then plays them back years later.
The Great White Way will soon shine less bright and the music of the night will play a little softer, but the spirit of Phantom – like the bond between father and daughter – will never die.
* Some might say, like a crystal chandelier
