Les Miserables

I’ve wanted to see this musical since I spent several months of my life playing trombone with my back to it in high school. I did NOT have the right instrument for that part. It’s technically possible to play those low notes on an F-attachment trombone, but a bass would be been MUCH more useful. The guy who played the trombone part last night at the performance at Playhouse Square had incredible volume. He must have been miked?

So I finally saw it, and loved every second of it except the ones where Jean Valjean was singing falsetto. The man had an incredible baritone voice, but he just didn’t quite have the high bits. That part must be a really hard part to sing though, because it’s all quiet and sad way up high. It didn’t sound bad, it just didn’t sound as good as everything else. I think that Eponine and the head student guy whose name I never remember were best. Frijoles? No, those are beans in Spanish. We’ll call him Ian, because his hair looked just like my friend the sophomore, Ian. Ian was good. Is the point.

I coughed up the extra 20 bucks for us to get seats that weren’t the very cheapest and I bought tickets ages ago, so we could actually see the whole stage. It was great. Ken’s little binoculars were still handy to have for proper viewing of young Javert’s eyebrows though. They were a sight not to be missed.

Anyway, going to see a show at Playhouse Square caused me to feel the second teensy tiny twinge of sadness about leaving Cleveland. (The first was the thought of leaving my house, which is the perfect layout for us, excepting the miniscule kitchen and the location in Cleveland with a postage stamp sized yard.) I’m pretty sure wherever we end up on the west coast won’t have the ridiculously gorgeous and ornate theaters like Playhouse Square. However, they probably will have more bathrooms, so that’s a plus. When I got in line for the bathroom at intermission there were 9 people waiting ahead of me. When I came out of the bathroom the line had extended all the way out of the bathroom, around the corner, across the entire foyer, and then bent and went along the other wall of the foyer. I’m sure that not all those women got to go before the intermission was done.

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April 2011
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