Come See How The World Could Be Pt. 1

Hello, my dears. I began writing this the night of April 24th, but as you know, life gets the better of me sometimes. Anyhow, here's a post I've been meaning to share for quite some time now. Enjoy <3

*contains Hadestown spoilers*

*for real, if you haven't seen it yet do not read this*

*seriously, turn the fuck around and read something else*

*kay, whatever dude, you've been warned*

April 24, 2019. 7:30pm. Walter Kerr Theatre.

My dad and I knew what the story was about. I mean, we'd listened to the entire soundtrack on Spotify already and both knew how it ended. At least I did, anyway—my dad doesn't always connect the dots.

When he first asked me which show we should watch as our joint birthday present, Hadestown was honestly a plan B. I'd never seen Wicked before (I know, I'm a musical theatre abomination) so naturally, I pushed for that one first. Of course, as many things turn out to be, it was too expensive. I had to come up with a new plan. I knew my friend Claire had raved about Hadestown (thank you Claire) and even though I had had the soundtrack on loop for six months, it didn't occur to me I could actually go see it. The Broadway debut wasn't even scheduled until late April. But the universe was aligned and tickets were reasonable and so we decided to go.

The usual crowd of theatre-goers was there: elderly retired couples who need a way to spend their time; crazed NYU musical theatre majors who obnoxiously know every single detail about every single cast member's life, not to mention are singing the songs at the top of their lungs before the show has even started; elites looking to be noticed at a new and trendy social gathering; mothers with daughters and husbands with wives; and then people like us, who seldom get the privilege to watch a masterpiece unfold.

We piled into the theatre like a swarm of bees. My dad and I made our way up the steps to the mezzanine but the second my eyes landed on the stage, I couldn't move. Dramatic, I know, but true. A vastly bare stage save for a couple of barstools, tables, and upturned chairs. There was no sign of a pit, so I assumed the orchestra would be onstage. A jukebox in the corner. A spiral staircase. Exits. The whole space had a presence about it. Like we were about to watch something important. Like we were gonna watch something that mattered.

Everything the eye could see was earth-toned. Browns, tans, greens, blacks, reds. By the time we took our seats, it felt like a lifetime had passed. And it would take a whole other lifetime for the show to begin. Patience is not a virtue I always possess.

Finally, people started spilling onto the stage. One by one, they greeted the audience with a smile and a wave before setting up their first position. Naturally, the audience began to clap and cheer, eager for the performance to begin. As I had predicted, the orchestra sat on the far sides of the stage, acting almost as pub-goers and setting a more natural, intimate tone. Our beloved narrator, old man André De Shields playing Hermes, stalked across the stage, meeting each cast member with a meaningful gaze or a firm handshake—almost as if he were welcoming them into battle. It was a somber sort of thing.

Dressed in all sparkling silver, he addresses his crew "'Aight?" They respond, "'Aight."

Cue the blaring trumpet, tooting the first few notes of "Road to Hell." Instantly we are captured by the cast's innate ability to be connected to one another and the audience. We take Hermes's word as given—no one questions him or his glorious sass in storytelling. He introduces us to our players: the Fates, Hermes (God of Travelers), Persephone (Our Lady of the Underground), Hades (God of the Underworld), the Greek Chorus, the Orchestra, and finally our young lovers, poor boy Orpheus and hungry Eurydice.

And then Eva Noblezada (Eurydice) opens her mouth to sing, and the rest of the world is lost to me. "Any Way the Wind Blows" began and my whole body covered itself in goosebumps. Hearing the sinister plucking of violin strings, watching as the Fates took on the form of the Winds, watching Eurydice pack her few things hurriedly, it was like I was in it with them. Call me crazy, but I could feel the winds changing as it happened.

And then she meets Orpheus.

"Come Home with Me?" he asks.

He tells her of the song he's working on, how when it's finished, spring will come again. And then he'll make her his wife. He kneels and presents her with a red flower. Reeve Carney (Orpheus) does this with such a delicateness and vulnerability, you can't help but root for him. From the very beginning.

Eurydice agrees but won't give in without a fight. "Wedding Song" is charged with playfulness and sexual tension and I swear to the gods, the bisexual in me would KILL to marry both Orpheus and Eurydice every time I hear it. They tease each other, they circle each other, they giggle with an innocence only found in first loves.

And so Orpheus sings "Epic I", where he explains the ancient love story of Hades and Persephone. When he sings, it's as if time stands still. Like you're stuck in the most delicious jar of honey and can't get out (not that you'd want to).

But as soon as it happens, the moment is gone, and we're on to the next song.

Bam! Spotlight on a drunken Persephone (played by the brilliant Amber Grey) as she struts down the spiral staircase into Summer. In "Livin' it Up on Top" everyone and everything comes back to life. Everyone onstage springs into dance and laughter, which is such a contrast to the way things felt before. To my absolute delight, there's a Latin-feel dance break where they jam like there's no tomorrow and let me tell you—when a theatre vibrates with Latin jams, you'd have to be crazy not to enjoy it.

When it's time for Orpheus to give his toast, he says: "To the world we dream about. And, the one we live in now." Granted, I know this line is coming. I always know it is. How could I not? I've listened to the soundtrack for months, and yet it gets me every time. May we always seek a better tomorrow, but let us not forget the wondrous present and the miracles that can be achieved in it.

And then we get to remember how earth-shattering it is to fall in love. Orpheus and Eurydice fall into it right before our eyes. In "All I've Ever Known" Eurydice struggles against love, against falling, because she's only ever known struggle and hurt and heartache. The fear of falling in love is brought to life in a very real, tangible way. The two lovers end up promising the world to one another, unaware of the storms yet to come.

"Way Down Hadestown" finally introduces us to the king of the underworld, Hades (played by a domineering Patrick Page), who's come to pick up his wife Persephone. He's early, once again, but who could blame him? He missed her. With the collection of Persephone comes the changing of the seasons, and no one is ready for that. It's too early. It isn't time. But Hades waits for no one, so off they go.

Orpheus leaves to finish writing his song, the song that will bring back the spring, but he leaves Eurydice all alone to fend for herself in the wind. "A Gathering Storm" comes to twist a knife in their wounds, leaving Eurydice desperate and lost. Meanwhile, Orpheus attempts to write.

"Epic II"

The grounds open up and we descend into the burning depths of hell. Suddenly, we see coal miners drenched in sweat, muscles twisting tautly under their skin, dirt smeared across their faces, a dead look in their eyes—all indicators we've arrived in Hadestown. Just to further the doom and gloom, the Greek Chorus engage in a "Chant", and Persephone isn't all too pleased with her husband's new shiny kingdom. They circle one another like birds of prey, eager to feast on the other and tear them apart. All this time, Eurydice finds herself losing her battle against the cold, against the wind. She calls for Orpheus but Orpheus doesn't come. He's got to finish the song. A steady feeling of urgency weighs in on the audience. We know something's about to happen—and not something good.

Of course, Hades swoops in to lure Eurydice to Hadestown, offering her a deal she could never turn down. "Hey, Little Songbird" is a delicate dance wherein Hades acts as the serpent tempting Eve, in this case, Eurydice. He offers her food and shelter and a "soft place to land". The hungry young girl, desperate as she was, couldn't refuse.

After accepting her ticket to the Underworld, the Fates slink in like slippery black cats come to watch a show. Each moves just as gracefully, just as elegantly as the next, each voice just as velvety thick as the last. "When the Chips are Down" serves as a narrative of what happens to people when times get tough—what do you become when you've lost everything you have? What do you become when you've got nothing else to lose? What do you become when there's nothing left?

Resigning herself to fate, Eurydice sings "Gone, I'm Gone" as a final goodbye to Orpheus, who has yet to know what will become of her. Completely oblivious to what's just happened, Orpheus goes looking for her, only to find out she's gone.

Thus begins the song that from the moment I first heard it, moved my whole body to gutwrenching tears: "Wait For Me."

Hermes reveals that there's another way to get to Hadestown, a way that doesn't require a train ticket. Orpheus, desperate to see his love agrees to do whatever it takes. Turns out whatever it takes leads to quite a dangerous road. And this is why theatre became my very first love: the complete magic one can create just by adjusting a few lights, the journey you can take someone on with a simple melody, the transformation that occurs when you find yourself in a character's shoes, the amount of empathy you can have for someone who isn't even real... It's wild to me. It's magical. It's the best thing to ever exist. And every single one of those things is captured in Wait For Me.

I knew this song was coming up. Papi knew it too. And yet I still found myself utterly unprepared. Nothing can prepare you for the first time Orpheus utters those words with complete anguish and desperation. Nothing can prepare you for the feelings of loss and loneliness and despair and hurt and anger and hopelessness and fear that come attached to this song. Maybe it's 'cuz I'm an empath, maybe it's 'cuz I feel things far too deeply, but Wait For Me strangles my heart every single time.

I remember that was the first full pause the director decided to make. The end of Wait For Me had everyone in the audience gripping the edges of their seats. Me, on the other hand, it had me choking back strangled sobs and shaking as I clung desperately to my dad's coat, letting the tears run freely down my cheeks, down my chin, staining my shirt as they fell. I didn't care. I had never felt a work of art so deeply before. I didn't know what to do with myself. Truly. It took well into the next song for me to stop hiccuping and sniffling. Just... there are no words. Nothing I say could ever do that moment justice. It was the most magical moment I've felt in theatre in my life, and that is saying something.

Then came a song that hit just as hard but in a completely different way: "Why We Build the Wall."

Literally nothing could be more relevant in the USA than that right now. It sheds light on the twisted power dynamic between Hades and his workers, it shows him as a benevolent father figure just looking out for his children when in reality he is manipulating their thoughts and creating fears and threats that aren't there. Pointing to an enemy that isn't there. At this point, Persephone dresses in all black, no longer the fun-loving goddess she was before. She knows what Hades is doing is wrong, but she's too far drowned in alcohol and sadness to do anything about it.

Eurydice is last seen following Hades up the steps to his office, ready to sign her life away to a life of constant toil in exchange for basic human needs. Persephone copes the only way she knows how: "Anybody want a drink?"

Blackout.

Act I really left us with nowhere to hide. It asks that we come with our hearts on our sleeve, open hearts, open minds. It served theme after relevant theme—the notion that poverty can drive people to do things they never would've imagined, the idea that poverty and the poor are the enemy and we are to keep ourselves as far away from that as possible even if it means building a wall, what happens to us when we're so blinded by love that we forget to do the things necessary to keep us alive, the distances true love will take us when we work hard enough. I sincerely cannot explain how much this musical has affected my life, and this is only a recap of Act I! We haven't even gotten to Act II yet.

If you've made it this far and you still haven't seen it live, I strongly encourage you to as long as you come emotionally prepared to suffer quite a bit. Like I said, never have I ever been so moved by a work of art so strongly as this before. I mean it I mean it I mean it.

I'm sorry this has already gotten obnoxiously long, I just tend to stretch things out when I care about them. In this case, I care a lot lot lot. And you should too. Los quiero!

Hasta la próxima,

Much love xoxo

Maya

Maybe

Random prose written while listening to "ceiling full of stars" playlist on 8tracks. Thought I'd try my hand at some improv, who knows. Here goes:

..........

Hi I thought I would share this story with you.

Um.

Okay, well. 

We were running. And it was dark. Like late. And I could only see the back of her dress kicking up in the wind and my god she was beautiful.

It was late. I was cold but she wasn’t. She never was. She was always warm. She just radiated like that. We ran all the way to the bay. I wanted to keep running, go to the water, feel the rocks, pick up crabs, but she wanted to stop, so I did.

We stopped and I looked at her and she took my hand and I gasped because she felt like stars exploding a billion miles away. She laughed and so did I and we heard waves slink away into the sea. 

Her laugh sounded like wind chimes and sunshiney mornings.

She pulled me close. “Hey, you’re cold.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Uh huh.” She pulled me closer.

I wanted to stay like that. Stand there til the sun came up. Maybe she did too.

I wanted to sit there and tell her about why I like crabs and that sometimes the coldest mornings at the bay are the coolest and that she was just so unbelievably funny and how much I wanted to kiss her and that I wished we could just stay.

I wanted her to stay.

She tugged on my hand and I looked up at her. Her smile faltered. She knew it already.

“I know,” I said.

“I know you know. I’m sorry,” she said.

“Don’t be. I love you.”

“Don’t.”

“Okay.”

She sat down with tears in her eyes and kissed my hand. She loved me too, I knew it. She didn’t want to leave either, I knew it. She wanted to stay. Here. With me. 

“Don’t go.” I said.

“Don’t.” 

“Okay.”

I wish she was still here. I wish she’d tell me about what the sky is like over there. And why she doesn’t like crabs. And if she knows that her laugh sounds like wind chimes.

Maybe she’s still wearing that dress. I hope she is.

..........

I don't know what that was about really. But I feel like it's something that happened. Or could have happened. Who knows.

Hasta la próxima,

Much love xoxo

Maya

Vibes

Vibes
by Maya Wilson

You feel like jumping in puddles while wearing yellow rainboots.
You feel like extra gooey smores.
You feel like bare feet running through grass.
You feel like a pile of clean laundry that was left out so you snuggle and sleep on top of it.
You feel like when cats rub up against your legs.
You feel like the dust particles you see floating through sunbeams.
You feel like kids running along the shore with sand pails in their hands.
You feel like when a ladybug lands on your nose.
You feel like defrosting your feet by a fire.
You feel like big splashes and ocean waves and rustling leaves and butterfly kisses.
That's sort of what it's like.

..........

I wrote this poem over the summer for Kota, a very special human being <3

Enjoy your spooky October!

Hasta la próxima,

Much love xoxo

Maya

I Am From

Hello hi there my loves!

It's been quite a while, I'm super sorry. This isn't quite an update per se, but it's something to tide us over while I try to come up with a general update.

I wrote this for my Freshman Writing Seminar class––we were given a template based on George Ella Lyon's poem "Where I'm From" and were told to fill in the blanks. Figured I'd share :)

..........

I Am From

by Maya I. Wilson Estrella

I am from weathered chancletas,

from Dawn soap and tupperware,

I am from the concrete jungle,

the scent of fried salami.

I am from the blooming orquidias,

the caoba tree whose long limbs

I remember as if they were my own.

I'm from Eleven MnMs and crinkled noses,

from Abuelo and Abuela,

I'm from cackling laughter and petty grudges

and from picking our fingernails raw.

I'm from always be early and never be late,

and two wrongs do not make a right,

I'm from oraciones before bed.

I'm from Queens, New York and the

distant valleys of Ocoa.

Abuelo's dulce de coco and Grandma's tuna melts,

from Grandpa's unjust unemployment and

the politics he fought against.

Yellowed letters written in desperation,

carefully tucked in a forgotten box.

Memories of entire lifetimes scattered among

the new.

..........

Ta daaaaaa there you have it. I remember Yan Diego having to do this in like 6th grade and I thought it was the coolest thing ever :) I hope you enjoyed! Might be posting some other little things I've written recently at some point soon.

I love you all!

Hasta la próxima,

Much love xoxo

Maya