Dream Note
Gather round, theatre nerds and show tune enthusiasts, because what we have here is the equivalent of the Super Bowl halftime show for people whose idea of a sporting event is aggressively debating whether Patti LuPone's high note in Evita was superior to the one in Gypsy. Andrew Lloyd Webber — the British composer so famous that even your grandmother who exclusively watches golf knows his name — is being feted at London's Royal Albert Hall for his fiftieth birthday, and the resulting gala is so ostentatiously British it practically asks you to pass the tea and biscuits while you watch. The venue itself deserves top billing. The Royal Albert Hall is that magnificent circular arena that looks like someone designed a wedding cake the size of a small planet and then decided to hold concerts inside it. It's the kind of place where even the echoes have good breeding. And within these hallowed walls, Lloyd Webber's theatrical company has assembled a tribute that functions as a greatest-hits medley so packed with showstoppers it should come with a warning label for anyone with a heart condition or an irrational fear of key changes. Highlights from The Phantom of the Opera? Present. That chandelier might not actually crash from the ceiling, but the music still hits with the force of a beautifully trained vocalist discovering that the acoustics in this particular hall could make even a bathroom singer sound like a deity. Cats? You bet your Jellicle songs are represented, complete with the kind of choreography that makes you wonder how humans can move like that without requiring subsequent chiropractic intervention. Evita and Sunset Boulevard round out the offerings, ensuring that every major phase of Webber's imperial reign over the West End and Broadway gets its moment in the spotlight. What makes this celebration more than just a glorified karaoke night for the West End elite is the palpable affection that radiates from every performance. These are artists who have lived inside these compositions, and their renditions carry the weight of genuine emotional investment. It's a birthday party where the gift is the music itself, and the guest of honor happens to be the man who wrote it all. Lavish, unapologetic, and utterly beguiling.
Gather round, theatre nerds and show tune enthusiasts, because what we have here is the equivalent of the Super Bowl halftime show for people whose idea of a sporting event is aggressively debating whether Patti LuPone's high note in Evita was superior to the one in Gypsy. Andrew Lloyd Webber — the British composer so famous that even your grandmother who exclusively watches golf knows his name — is being feted at London's Royal Albert Hall for his fiftieth birthday, and the resulting gala is so ostentatiously British it practically asks you to pass the tea and biscuits while you watch. The venue itself deserves top billing. The Royal Albert Hall is that magnificent circular arena that looks like someone designed a wedding cake the size of a small planet and then decided to hold concerts inside it. It's the kind of place where even the echoes have good breeding. And within these hallowed walls, Lloyd Webber's theatrical company has assembled a tribute that functions as a greatest-hits medley so packed with showstoppers it should come with a warning label for anyone with a heart condition or an irrational fear of key changes. Highlights from The Phantom of the Opera? Present. That chandelier might not actually crash from the ceiling, but the music still hits with the force of a beautifully trained vocalist discovering that the acoustics in this particular hall could make even a bathroom singer sound like a deity. Cats? You bet your Jellicle songs are represented, complete with the kind of choreography that makes you wonder how humans can move like that without requiring subsequent chiropractic intervention. Evita and Sunset Boulevard round out the offerings, ensuring that every major phase of Webber's imperial reign over the West End and Broadway gets its moment in the spotlight. What makes this celebration more than just a glorified karaoke night for the West End elite is the palpable affection that radiates from every performance. These are artists who have lived inside these compositions, and their renditions carry the weight of genuine emotional investment. It's a birthday party where the gift is the music itself, and the guest of honor happens to be the man who wrote it all. Lavish, unapologetic, and utterly beguiling.
— Dreamer's log, recorded 2000 in the clouds