If you know me, you know one of my very favorite things in the world is live theatre. I have a particularly soft spot for musicals – I actually performed in musicals all throughout high school and college, and found an incredible community theatre during my PhD (that I sorely miss). So, although I haven’t been onstage in quite awhile, I whet my appetite when particularly spectacular shows make their way over to Perth.
Case in point, last night I donned my vintage finest, grabbed the hand of my Mister, and skipped off to join friends at the Crown Theatre to see Wicked, which takes you through the untold story of the Witches of Oz. My gorgeous friend Beth (owner of Mo-Mo’s Vintage) messaged me beforehand, because we were naturally going to do Galinda (Good Witch of the North) and Elphaba (Wicked Witch of the West) inspired outfits for the show. It took me about 2 seconds flat to lay claim to Galinda. (Umm…poofy and sparkly? Yes please!) I’ve been waiting for the perfect event to wear this Emma Domb beauty, who almost glows from the golden hues of hundreds of embroidered sunflowers.
The performance was spectacular. I’ve seen this show several times (including one unfortunate showing where I unknowingly bought tickets in the last row, far corner. As in, the absolute furthest one can get from the stage. The usher actually laughed at us when he looked at our tickets and pointed up to the way, WAY back). But regardless, every time I get lost in the music, the story, the insanely beautiful costumes. There is something so magical about the risk involved in live theatre. There’s no Hollywood Director who will yell cut if you make a mistake or another 12 takes allowed in order to get the moment right. Sure, these actors have rehearsed for months, but when they step onto that stage, they stand vulnerable and alone in front of the crowd. There’s something about that risk that elevates the experience – watching someone’s vulnerability and simultaneous courage to stare that vulnerability down. Through the million things that can go wrong, they risk it all for the opportunity to have it all fall perfectly into place one more time.
If you haven’t yet seen Wicked, I won’t spoil anything for you (though you can read the synopsis here). The musical is based on Gregory Maguire’s 1995 novel Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West, and gives us insight into the adventures of Oz-ians leading up to the arrival of Dorothy and her crew. The overarching theme is that things are not always what they appear to be and that what makes a hero or a villain are not always easy to define. I find the very concept of good and evil and the way we ascribe to people being one or the other to be really compelling. How perception often dictates that which is deemed to be noble, even if it has undercurrents of selfishness and dishonesty. And on the flip side, we oftentimes write off people and events as unequivocally evil, when at the heart lie good intentions or misunderstanding.
I remember watching the Wizard of Oz as a kid. It was always on tv around the holidays and I would stare, riveted, at the screen. I felt exactly the way the movie wanted me to feel – in awe of characters like Glinda the Good and terrified of the Wicked Witch of the West, with all of her evil doings and demonic intent. And it runs in direct parallel to the way we all live most of our lives – fed story lines by the media, through the filter of a specific agenda or perspective. Truthfully, most of the time I mindlessly lap it up, seizing on the wealth of instantly gratifying gossip around me, only to cast judgement upon and move on, failing to consider the person on the other side of my judgement, the other side of the story. I know I’m not alone in this – we’re all doing every minute of every day as we scroll through Facebook, watch the news, click on that You Tube link. We tag “like” to the good Instagram photos and withhold our likes of the bad. We all ascribe some manner of a ‘good’ or ‘bad’ label to the contestants on The Voice, to the way the woman behind you in the checkout is handling her unruly children, to the driver in front of you in traffic who just needs to gooooooo.
In a way, this musical is a cautionary tale that forces us to look at one of the most iconic villains in cinematic literature (certainly of my childhood), one we associate with perfect wickedry and malevolence, and asks us to challenge those assumptions of what is right and what is wrong. That there are indeed two sides to every story and no moral absolutes. Although our default is usually to vilify, because there is a desperate need to have someone to blame, there is no such thing as a situation or an intention being as black and white as we want it to be. And this duplicity don’t just exist in our perception of people, but in our emotions and abilities and the complexities of our relationships. Born from sadness we can usually find the greatest strength. Something disfigured can belie so much beauty. We can sometimes arrive a great achievement and not like the view from the pinnacle, finding it hollow, empty. Realizing there’s often a price to pay for ambition when we neglect moral responsibility. Power can bring out the worst in us, and conflict can sometimes bring out the best.
In the end, I think our desire to label something as evil often has at the heart of it more a fear of the unknown, of what is different. And the media simply lends credibility to our worst fears, biases and judgments, and thus a cycle of mindlessly attaching ‘good’ or ‘evil’ decals to things continues. Sadly, even the Wizard himself says, “The truth is not fact or reason. The truth is just what everyone agrees on.” And more often than not, truth becomes lost in cultural consensus, which is nowadays based on social media posts, You Tube videos, and leaked iPhone photos. We’re so afraid of what we don’t understand or what may be deviate from what we consider to be “normal” – and even more afraid of speaking out against the majority – when really, evil may be nothing more than the absence of something: awareness, compassion, a full understanding of circumstance.
So, I will spend the weekend humming the songs in my head, singing loudly along to the soundtrack in my car, and the next time I hear a rumor or make a snap judgement on that which is wrong or right, good or bad, I’ll take pause.
Nothing is ever really as it seems…
xoxo
Outfit Details:
Dress: From the closet of Konadlicious (similar modern here & here or vintage here, here, here & here)
Necklace: Sora Designs (similar here & here)
Handbag: Midas of Miami via Bluebird Vintage (similar here, here & here)
Shoes: DSW (similar here, here & here)
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