In some way, the world had actually conspired versus me and I wasn’t going to make it. This is what I informed myself as I sprinted through Times Square en route to the NY PopsUp occasion on Saturday. I was one of 150 audience members, the majority of whom were frontline workers and volunteers at the Star’s Fund and Broadway Cares/Equity Combats AIDS, invited to sit scattered throughout the St. James Theatre. It had actually been a little more than a year because New york city’s theaters went to dark at the start of the COVID-19 pandemic, and with the state having alleviated constraints for public efficiencies on Friday, this was to be Broadway’s soft open. We had no hint who was carrying out or what the performance entailed, as details had been kept supersecret leading up to the event. Still, as a lifelong theatergoer and self-identified theater kid, I was figured out not to miss it.
There were rigorous guidelines about entry. All guests needed to offer among the following: (1) proof of an unfavorable PCR test taken within 72 hours of the event, (2) proof of an unfavorable antigen rapid test taken within 6 hours of the efficiency, or (3) verification of being 14 days past the completion of a vaccine series. Masks would be required at all times and there would be no late entry or reentry. Having received my second Moderna shot 7 days prior (you can now call me Completely Moderna Millie), I decided to go the rapid-test route, waking up early on Saturday and heading to my local CityMD. That portion of the day’s program was over and done by 10: 30 a.m., and I was informed I ‘d be emailed with my results 15 minutes after my visit. However, as showtime drew better, the email with my results– my golden ticket enabling me entry into a Broadway theater for the first time in 14 months– had not strike my inbox.
After pacing around my house refreshing my inbox, I chose to head to the theater. Surely, the email would magically appear on my half hour journey to the St. James. But, when I left the train at 42 nd street, I still hadn’t received my results. I started to go through Times Square like a madman, as I had actually done so sometimes in my pre-COVID life, hoping I ‘d get to the theater in time to discuss my circumstance and not miss the program. It was clear when I got here 10 minutes to curtain and 20 minutes after my designated arrival slot that there would be no sweet-talking the ushers into letting me in without evidence of an unfavorable fast test. This was, certainly, a good idea as COVID-19 safety measures are absolutely nothing to play with, but was irritating at the time. Right when I was all set to give up, I was able to get somebody on the phone from CityMD who notified me that they had actually “forgotten to put my test in the system” (whatever that implies) and that I must be receiving an e-mail with my result any moment. A couple of incredibly tense seconds later on, I was sitting in the St. James, which felt spacious and strangely empty with only 150 of its more than 1,600 seats filled with hungry theatergoers ready for their very first live show in over a year.
And, kid, were we fed. Directed by four-time Tony winner Jerry Zaks, the show began with Tony Award winner and tap dancer Savion Glover performing an improvisational regimen on a raised platform in the center of the phase, surrounded by a few amps and a microphone. Glover tapped away as he at the same time sang lines from popular programs like Felines, A Chorus Line, and Dreamgirls and made jokes about auditioning for Broadway super-producer Scott Rudin. At one point, Glover tapped so ferociously that he knocked over a piece of audio devices, momentarily messing up the noise till a member of the tech team came out and repaired it throughout his performance. The pleased mishap encapsulated the embodiment of live theater; it was unexpected, unexpected, and undeniably human. Throughout the ordeal, Glover didn’t miss a beat.
” I was a little worried, however I was elated, and pleased, and there was fond memories, and I was nostalgic– it was whatever,” Glover said in an interview with The New York City Times later “And I felt really safe. I wish to be rubbing elbows and hugging– we’re looking for that ultimately– but there’s no more safe location than right in the middle of that stage.”
After Glover’s tap masterclass, three-time Tony Award winner Nathan Lane came out onto the empty phase and provided a monologue written by playwright Paul Rudnick about a man who’s invested the last year stuck in his home, separated from the love of his life, the theater. In the piece, Lane states a dream where one by one Hugh Jackman, Patti LuPone, and Audra McDonald stumble into his studio apartment or condo and offer to offer him a private concert. It had plenty of inside baseball theater recommendations, from jokes about Madonna‘s Evita movie to LuPone’s penchant for wielding mobile phone as weapons. The only thing that could have made Lane’s monologue much better is if Jackman, LuPone, and McDonald actually did appear at the end, socially distanced naturally. “These are baby steps towards a real resuming,” Lane stated to The New York City Times. “It’s a way of indicating to everybody that we’re returning.”
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