WICKED on Broadway in the spring, and I was so excited to be in New York City for only the second time in my whole entire life. And I know it seems like a step back, sure "you saw said move in April, maybe May, how dare you only write about it now?" WELL, don't judge me. (wink)
I guess I stomped the NYC streets in some beat up gold glitter converse chucks, black jeggings and a minty plaid trench coat. I munched on over-salted street pretzels and went to Saks, United colors, and Emporio Armani, from which I bought absolutly NOTHING! Amazing for me. After making my way back around the financial district, I entered the theatre, climbed what felt like six hundred sets of stairs, and finally made my way to my red velvet covered seat, finding the balcony seats precarious, but immersing. The lights dimmed and I was thrown into a two hour world of dancing sugar encrusted gowns, magic wands, emerald tutus, spinning black and white petticoats, and some extremely green body makeup. By the time the play was over I was over-heating, my face glitter was melting like a witch under a pail of water, and I found a genuine compassion for winged monkeys. Maybe Glinda always was the bad girl.
Photos Ala' -broadwayworld.com, applausetickets.com, and artsjournalismchicago.wordpress.com
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