The Hamilton Experience

I took my niece to see Hamilton. She knows all the lyrics and has watched the movie countless times. During COVID we purchased the Disney package to watch Hamilton and well, we never canceled the subscription. I think quite a few of us might be in this same boat. We have Disney because of Hamilton.

My niece loves Hamilton. She even dressed up as one of the Schyler sisters for Halloween. I know, I know, she is not the only one.

This was my third trip to see Hamilton. Yes, that is quite a few times however when a musical is this impressive and exceptional, I feel no number of viewings can do it true justice. It is just that good. Side note, I have seen The Phantom of the Opera 11 times.

 We arrived at the Richard Rodgers Theatre with time to spare. My niece grabbed a NYC hotdog from a vendor and after making it through security we found our way to our seats.

Orchestra seats, about ten rows back. My niece needs the aisle, no issue there for me, my sister-in-law to my right and then me. I immediately noticed a woman behind us speaking loudly inquiring if from the very beginning Aaron Burr shoots Alexander Hamilton. I made a face and looked at my sister-in-law as if to say, “what is wrong with this woman,” has she not seen Hamilton, how is it possible that she would ask such a question. I mean at least she has seen the film, correct? She continued to speak loudly to her seat neighbors whom I do not believe, based on the conversation I could easily overhear, she knew.

As with each Hamilton performance, punctuality is key and shortly after 1pm, 1:05PM, the lights dimmed (and yes, we went to a matinee performance for my niece’s benefit and my own).

From the opening scene the audience was captivated, of course, including our fellow back row seat newcomer. She laughed loudly, she gasped loudly and she spoke, maybe not as loudly adding any number of “wow” and “oh my” pronouncements. I turned my head around once to look at her because I was just so surprised that she was so vocal. Mind you, the music is loud, in a good way, and with all of the effects, it was not as if this woman was a distraction to the actors or fellow theatre goers, but I could hear her and I was so worried that my niece’s first experience on Broadway would not be perfect.

Every time I looked over at my niece, however, she was smiling, happy, enthralled, clapping, and bright-eyed.

At intermission we made a beeline for the loo. It is a well-oiled machine the intermission loo break at Hamilton – lengthy line but in and out.

We enjoyed the second half of the performance and, spoiler alert, the final scene where Eliza meets Alexander once again, is quite moving. After the standing ovation I turned to see our newcomer friend sobbing. She was crying so hard that she had to keep removing her glasses to dab at her eyes. She was moved to tears. I know the feeling, Beethoven’s Ninth moves me to tears every time I hear it, even when I am walking my dog and listening on my crappy Apple air pods. And so shame on me, shame on me for casting aspersion on someone whose joy and excitement and absolute amazement at the story of Alexander Hamilton and the brilliant way in which Lin Manuel Miranda conveyed it was such that this woman could not help but express her joy and ebullience which manifested itself by way of an odd outburst every now and again. It was simply her way of expressing and emoting joy. Shame on me for being judgmental and shame on me for not being a better person.

As we left, I patted the newcomer’s leg, (like JD Vance patted Usha Vance’s leg during their story time reading session only not so oddly and awkwardly) and I took her hand, held it, and squeezed it. It was a knowing squeeze, a “we have all been there” squeeze, a reassuring squeeze to say, “we understand and feel your joy and sadness, and we understand the beauty of this love story.”  We should all be so lucky to find such happiness and to be like this woman and feel such emotion and joy.

Happy 250th Birthday America.

“History has its eyes on you.” – George Washington in Hamilton  

Sweet Dreams,

Ava

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