A MUSE at the Auditorio Nacional
Today, I went with my mama, grandma and aunt to the last performance of A MUSE here, in Mexico City. We arrived early, because, for me, going to any performance is a whole ritual. I study Musical Theatre, so going to these events is quite important to me. The show started a bit late, which is not usual at the Auditorio Nacional.
The opening of the show was quite simple, with only three actors walking among the audience and making jokes. It suddenly bursted into a quite big production of music, dancers, and acrobats. There was an M.C., who was a big guy with a very decent level of Spanish. All of the people onstage were very talented and well trained. Besides, most of them were very easy on the eye and had beautiful bodies.
During the show, there were a couple of mistakes, which is unusual in this kind of productions. Especially in the hoops number, where a guy fell from he’s hoop and another one stopped spinning in a different way than everyone else. I don’t think anyone noticed or cared, because it was still quite impressive.
Some of the numbers were longer than necessary, I believe. My personal favorite was the last number, which included two huge mattresses, divided by a wall with holes in it, and many acrobats jumping from one side to the other, perfectly choreographed. At the end of the show, there was a lot of applause, but no standing ovation. I applauded on my feet, because I thought it was worth it.
Being a performer myself, I appreciate it very much when audience members stay after a show to congratulate the cast. I find it very motivating, so I do it myself when I’m part of an audience. This time, I was the only one waiting at the stage door. My family went home and I told them I’d arrive later, by subway. I saw the M.C. leave with his family, but I did not approach, because they were too many and looked as if they were on a hurry. After waiting for about 20 minutes, some of the acrobats finally appeared. I approached them and said, “Hey, guys!” But only one of them answered. “I just saw the show and I wanted to congratulate you, because I think it was amazing,” I said. The same guy who had answered first thanked me, but none of the other even looked at me. I asked them if they liked Mexico City, and, once again, the same guy said, “Yes, but we didn’t get to know much of it, because of rehearsals and performances.” The others simply decided to keep ignoring me and my questions. I decided to leave then, not even taking their picture, as I had planned. The only guy who was decent enough to talk to me stretched my hand before I left. A girl by his side looked at me, so I smiled to her. She simply looked away. I took the subway and went home, not even thinking of the great show I had just seen.
If you’re a performer and the audience approaches you after a show, or walking down the street, or at the café, it is the audience who’s doing you a favor. Not the other way around. It is a pity that people as talented as them can behave so shamefully downstage. I, personally, would never return to see the show, if they ever returned to my country.
— Cheyenne Jackson