Beauty
Last weekend, I took Charlotte to my favorite musical with my favorite fairy tale with even my favorite Disney princess: Beauty and the Beast.
I saw Beauty and the Beast (the Broadway version) for the first time with my Uncle Brent in L.A. as a youngish lass. OH MY GOSH I loved it. He copied the music onto a tape for me (this was back when there were TAPES), and I memorized each and every note and word.
So, when the show came to Seattle, OBVIOUSLY my mom and I went. And when I was in New York years and years later with my friend Nancy, OBVIOUSLY we saw it on Broadway. And when the remarkably good theater in my parents' town ambitiously took on staging the glitzy, showy musical, OBVIOUSLY I took my then-five-year-old niece (and mom and mother-in-law).
And when Beauty and the Beast came to DC, OBVIOUSLY I bought overpriced tickets the very day they became available.
Because now, I have an almost-five-year-old daughter. (Plus a two-year-old daughter, but let's keep our eye on the most-likely-to-successfully-stay-in-her-seat ball, shall we?)
Sunday was the big day. Charlotte and I got gussied up, and she proudly put on her plastic yellow Belle ring. We drove to and parked in Friendship Heights (part of DC, you West Coasters), because we can park at Chris's work for FREE with his pass. We had brunch in Friendship Heights, which Charlotte thought was hilarious: "Breakfast mixed with lunch? CRAZY!"
We then took the metro downtown to the theater. Charlotte LOVES taking the metro. "The train goes so FAST!" she exclaimed. "Best! Day! EVER!"
And we hadn't even gotten to the theater yet.
After dousing Charlotte with Purell post-metro, we arrived at the theater, got to our (spectacular--because Mama bought tix EARLY) seats. The show started, and Charlotte was mesmerized.
Like when I took my niece, Kylie, six years before, I spent much of the show watching a wide-eyed little girl's face.
Intermission took place, and Charlotte got her second wind. She was giddy in anticipation of the ballroom scene---when she'd finally see Belle in her yellow dress.
As the second act started, Charlotte opted for my lap to ensure a really, really good view. When the opening piano music started for Mrs. Potts to begin singing, I felt Charlotte's body perk and she gasped a little. Belle emerged in her princess glory, and she and the beast danced.
Confession: I got a tad choked up. Hey, I was having a good time, my lap squished by and my arms full of my little girl watching a fairy tale come to life. No, it was not the greatest staging of Beauty and the Beast I had ever seen, but no matter. The tale, the music--Beauty and the Beast never fails to take me back to the childhood joy of a magical story (topped with a pretty dress---yeah, Charlotte and I have some things in common).
A note on Beauty and the Beast. Now, now, Beauty and the Beast is NOT stockholm syndrome gone awry. For starters, we have a brown-haired, brown-eyed princess. She's bookish. She's beautiful, sure, but she's an outsider. She chafes at the circumscribed provincial life. The villain is a hyper-masculine misogynist! There's a pretty dress and a castle library! The beast must learn how to LOVE! Hearts must soften on BOTH sides. The townspeople freak at the idea of the beast because "we don't like what we don't understand, in fact, it scares us"---which sums up current human divisions quite aptly.
Despite the metro single-tracking it and sore feet and bitter cold, I had a happy, contented post-theater buzz. Eventually, our train came, and Charlotte picked our seats. Ahead of us, standing, was a trendy twenty-something with an artsy canvas bag hanging across her back. Upon it, in blue script, was a quote from C.S. Lewis:
"Some day you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again."
I saw Beauty and the Beast (the Broadway version) for the first time with my Uncle Brent in L.A. as a youngish lass. OH MY GOSH I loved it. He copied the music onto a tape for me (this was back when there were TAPES), and I memorized each and every note and word.
So, when the show came to Seattle, OBVIOUSLY my mom and I went. And when I was in New York years and years later with my friend Nancy, OBVIOUSLY we saw it on Broadway. And when the remarkably good theater in my parents' town ambitiously took on staging the glitzy, showy musical, OBVIOUSLY I took my then-five-year-old niece (and mom and mother-in-law).
And when Beauty and the Beast came to DC, OBVIOUSLY I bought overpriced tickets the very day they became available.
Because now, I have an almost-five-year-old daughter. (Plus a two-year-old daughter, but let's keep our eye on the most-likely-to-successfully-stay-in-her-seat ball, shall we?)
Sunday was the big day. Charlotte and I got gussied up, and she proudly put on her plastic yellow Belle ring. We drove to and parked in Friendship Heights (part of DC, you West Coasters), because we can park at Chris's work for FREE with his pass. We had brunch in Friendship Heights, which Charlotte thought was hilarious: "Breakfast mixed with lunch? CRAZY!"
 |
| Eating the strawberry from Mommy's mimosa. |
 |
| Amazingly, she ate like quite the little lady. |
We then took the metro downtown to the theater. Charlotte LOVES taking the metro. "The train goes so FAST!" she exclaimed. "Best! Day! EVER!"
And we hadn't even gotten to the theater yet.
After dousing Charlotte with Purell post-metro, we arrived at the theater, got to our (spectacular--because Mama bought tix EARLY) seats. The show started, and Charlotte was mesmerized.
 |
| So excited! And possibly on a sugar high. She had a LOT of syrup at brunch. |
Like when I took my niece, Kylie, six years before, I spent much of the show watching a wide-eyed little girl's face.
Intermission took place, and Charlotte got her second wind. She was giddy in anticipation of the ballroom scene---when she'd finally see Belle in her yellow dress.
As the second act started, Charlotte opted for my lap to ensure a really, really good view. When the opening piano music started for Mrs. Potts to begin singing, I felt Charlotte's body perk and she gasped a little. Belle emerged in her princess glory, and she and the beast danced.
Confession: I got a tad choked up. Hey, I was having a good time, my lap squished by and my arms full of my little girl watching a fairy tale come to life. No, it was not the greatest staging of Beauty and the Beast I had ever seen, but no matter. The tale, the music--Beauty and the Beast never fails to take me back to the childhood joy of a magical story (topped with a pretty dress---yeah, Charlotte and I have some things in common).
A note on Beauty and the Beast. Now, now, Beauty and the Beast is NOT stockholm syndrome gone awry. For starters, we have a brown-haired, brown-eyed princess. She's bookish. She's beautiful, sure, but she's an outsider. She chafes at the circumscribed provincial life. The villain is a hyper-masculine misogynist! There's a pretty dress and a castle library! The beast must learn how to LOVE! Hearts must soften on BOTH sides. The townspeople freak at the idea of the beast because "we don't like what we don't understand, in fact, it scares us"---which sums up current human divisions quite aptly.
Despite the metro single-tracking it and sore feet and bitter cold, I had a happy, contented post-theater buzz. Eventually, our train came, and Charlotte picked our seats. Ahead of us, standing, was a trendy twenty-something with an artsy canvas bag hanging across her back. Upon it, in blue script, was a quote from C.S. Lewis:
"Some day you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again."
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