HAIR: The Experience.

I'm going to talk about HAIR again. Sorry.

Who am I kidding? I'M NOT SORRY!

I love HAIR. I've seen it twice on Broadway, and after this weekend, I've now seen the show three times, and I would see it a thousand times more. I just don't have that kind of money right now...

On the drive home from Milwaukee, we were trying to think of a word to describe the show. It's a musical, but it's more than that. It's not performance art, because it's not quite as ... strange. We decided that it's an experience. Because you're not watching people pretending to be living in this time of war and a fight for peace, you are actually experiencing everything with them. They run out into the audience and touch you, and dance with you, and talk to you. You, the audience, are included in this experience. At the end, you feel the passion and grief that the tribe exudes as they cry out for peace and beg to be heard. (That could also just be me, since I've seen it multiple times and know what to expect...But I do remember feeling that way the first time I saw it!) HAIR is not a musical. It is a musical experience. Go see it.

I got the tickets from my parents for Christmas. I'd been asking for them for months. I told my mom that I didn't want to go unless I were able to sit in the orchestra section and near an aisle. My main reasoning for this being that the tribe members run out into the audience at certain points in the show, and they interact with the audience. Well, what better access than someone sitting in an aisle seat? 

We were sitting about 10 or so rows from the front, and I was about 4 or 5 people into the aisle. Not quite the end, but there was an opening that was prime for someone to sneak through and get to me. Plus, there were no people sitting in the 2 seats next to me. I was ready. 

The show was about half way through the first act, and they had reached the title song, during which many members of the tribe run out and start messing up people's hair, when one of the male tribe members started making his way back toward us, saw the two empty seats next to me, saw me and my friend Em, high-fived us, and then climbed onto the chair next to me and finished out the song from there. I was ecstatic. It was the HAIR experience I had been longing for since the first time I saw it from the balcony, my hair far out of anyone's reach. I was beyond happy. 

I think I clapped my hands to shreds during the protest "Ain't Got No" scene. 

My favorite part of the show is the end, more specifically the song "Flesh Failures/Eyes Look Your Last/Let the Sun Shine In". It's a haunting, tragic, and absolutely beautiful song, finally giving us a true glimpse of the reality of the Vietnam war: death. The song itself is incredibly moving, that opening bass line setting the scene for what's to come, but it's the whole experience (I've used the word again) that is so moving: the music, the lyrics, the harmonies, the dim lighting, the snow starting to fall gently, the passion of the tribe as they belt out "Let the sun shine in!", Claude lying in his uniform atop the American flag, the snow falling gently on top of him, and a single spot light shining down, fading out as the tribe's voices fade with it. All these things together make possibly the most powerful thing I have ever seen on the stage. 

Most people think that the song "Let the Sun Shine In" is a happy, hippie, peace-sign waving song, but it is far from that. The band the Fifth Dimension may have made it out that way, but in the context of the show, these young people are begging and pleading for peace, to be heard. It's heart wrenching. 

If right now you're thinking, "Wow, what a freakin' nerd. Knows all that stuff about a musical about an era she didn't even live through," then you're right. I am a nerd, and I have read a few books on this show and it has made me fall more in love with the 60s and everything it stood for. I want to be a hippie. I want to go down to Madison and stand at the stairs of the capitol and shout at the top of my lungs. I want to go to Washington and lead a crowd of hundreds of thousands in a chorus of "Let the Sun Shine In". I want to do something. It angers and saddens me that I have so many obligations here that prevent me from doing any of these things that I so wish to do. When I'm done getting this blasted degree, you better believe that I am going to go out into the world and do something incredible. Just you watch.

So anyway, getting back to the weekend. After the show, the cast invites the audience up onto the stage to dance and sing along with them. I have had few experiences (the word again) that live up to the time that I stood on a Broadway stage at the Al Hirsch and sang and danced with my new found friends from NYU and just loved life. 

I looked over at my friend Em as we were clapping along to the beat of the curtain call music and said, "You ready? As soon as they wave us to come up, we're going." At that moment they brought out the ramp for the stairs. The second that I saw one hippie make a "come here" gesture, I snapped "GO!" and ran through the aisle and up to the stage. We ran so fast that we were the first ones up there. I think that has a little to do with the fact that we were one of the few who knew in advance that the audience is supposed to go up on stage at the end. 

Woof, the guy who had come out and high-fived us during "Hair" (the song), was at the foot of the stairs, waiting to help the audience members onto the stage. He high-fived us, and we ran up onto the stage. Slowly, others began to realize what to do, and the stage was soon filled with happy, smiling people, clapping, dancing and singing. It's a wonderful moment, a time when you can come together with people who only want you to smile and hug you and spread love. 

One of the hippies came up to us and wrapped his arm around me as we belted out "Let the Sun Shine In". Being the me that I am, I wanted to harmonize with the guy I was dancing with. It was fun. But 'fun' is an understatement. 

When all was said and done and the music had stopped, we lingered a bit on the stage to hug some of the cast and say "Thank you" and that we loved the show (again). I love that the cast stays in character until they are off stage and out of costume. As we hugged some of them they would say things like, "It's so nice to see you again!" and "There they are! The dancers!" as if they were our good friends. One of which, who said "There they are!" was Kacie Sheik, who was in the original Broadway revival and has one of the most unique voices I've ever heard. I looked forward to meeting her, and here she was, inches away, and she pulled us all in for a hug. We thanked her, and as we walked away from her she said, "Good luck guys!" 

Kacie Sheik!

I was going to buy something else (I'd already gotten a shirt and a colorful bandana), but we decided that stage dooring would be much more worth our time. We didn't want to miss anyone, so we went straight outside and waited at the stage door with 5 other people. As the cast came out, bundled up in scarves, hats and winter coats (they had been in L.A. merely weeks before coming to frigid Wisconsin), they stopped to pose with us for pictures and sign programs. We got pictures with Kacie Sheik, Josh Lamon (who is hilarious), Allison Guinn, Steel Burkhardt (Berger), and Paris Remillard (Claude), who stopped to chat with us for a bit even after he had taken his photo with all of us. 

It was a lovely experience (and a 3rd time. Or more. Probably more). 

I love HAIR. If you need any other reasoning as to why I am so obsessed with this show, I can tell you this:

1.  It's fun. It's beyond fun. I smile from ear to ear throughout most of the entire show. And when I'm not smiling, I'm crying. I am always engaged in this EXPERIENCE. The cast has such an energy that can pull you in and keep you there until you leave the theatre.
2. The music. The first time I saw this show, I had only heard "Aquarius" and "Let the Sun Shine In". Sitting in the audience, by the second song I was already thinking, "Wow. This is such a good show," and by the end I was hooked. 
3. Gavin Creel. I know he's not touring with the show, but he will forever be Claude in my mind. He's the voice I hear in the cast recording, and there will never be another like him. 
4. The simplicity of the set. The fact that the band is on stage. The organic-looking costumes. The overall effect of the visuals of the show. 
5. The audience dance party at the end.
6. The passion the cast puts into every second. They know that it's more than about making pretty music. 
7. You feel ready to take on the world after you leave the theatre. The second time I saw this show, I was alone, but I still felt like I wanted to go out and do something great, so I walked out of the theatre and saw a man playing a guitar and I gave him a dollar. That was good enough for me. 
8. I think you get the point. There are lots of reasons why I love this show.

Two weeks sober from soda today. Miracles can happen, people. 

I think that's about all I have for now. It was a wonderful weekend and I wish I could relive it. 

Molly