The Music of the Night

They say that you haven't seen Phantom of the Opera until you've seen it in London. Well, Jess got us both tickets for the show for tonight because we wanted to test this theory. She found us very cheap tickets--only 20 pounds apiece (and you could tell by the seats; we were to the far left, where some of the stage was blocked from view).

The performance got off to a rough start. In the dramatic opening during the overture, one of the curtains caught on the top of the stage, so some workers had to free it before the orchestra stopped playing. It was slightly distracting, but as there was nothing yet to be distracted from, it turned out okay.

And the rest of the performance was certainly more than okay. I've seen Phantom once before, about two years ago in Toledo; this performance trumped that one several times over in my opinion. The voices of all of the characters--particularly the main roles--were awe-inspiring. When Christine began her first song, it was so beautiful that I had to catch my breath.

And the Phantom? Every time he sang, I got goosebumps. The actor who played the Phantom was among the best that I have ever heard; he could really sing! Several of the notes in the title song were sustained with such amazing length and pitch that I was literally in awe. And at the end of the first act, I was so in tune with the Phantom's pain that I was almost in tears--something that has never happened to me before at a musical. My sister Michele and soon-to-be sister-in-law Stephanie are really the only ones who cry at performances--by their own admission.

They say that you haven't seen Phantom of the Opera until you've seen it in London.

They were right.