This transcript was automatically generated and might contain errors.

[0:00] Brendon Henderson: The following episode of Wait in the Wings has been a collaboration of nearly 300 hours worth of research, script writing, musical composition, and video editing. Much of the information is gathered from actual cast and crew members who have played a part in the evolution of Hadestown. To learn more about the Wait in the Wings series and how you can help us continue to preserve the history of these shows, please visit witwgo.com. Our featured non-profit organization for this episode is the Black Theatre Coalition. We highly encourage you to learn more and support the BTC in continuing the fight for racial equity by visiting blacktheatrecoalition.org/support.

[0:57] Brendon Henderson: The only difference between the road to hell and the road to Broadway are their final destinations. Each long and winding road is littered with obstacles designed to test the will and endurance of all who endeavor on its path. It was a road such as this that a young artist named Anais Mitchell found herself on, as she ventured forth on an unexpected journey to bring the Greek myth of Orpheus and Eurydice into the contemporary world with her first ever folk opera. What initially started as a small DIY theater project fueled by artistic anarchy would turn into a 10-year journey fueled by passion, conflict, and a profound belief that a song could change the world. This is the story of how an unlikely group of artists and a show from the backwoods of Vermont was able to flip Broadway on its head. It's the story of redemption for some and perseverance for all, of tradition and innovation, of art and commerce. This is the story of Hadestown.

[2:19] Brendon Henderson: This is the story of the Way in the Wings YouTube channel. Support for Wait in the Wings has come from our wonderful patrons on Patreon. Sounds music in the main house of B&O is by Sandy Jones, a script supervisor for Scatman Deck. The second song has been written and narrated by Bridget Hicks. Special thanks to Michael Sordi, David Newman, Ben Matznik, Everly Maribel, Leona Murphy, and Jesse Schultz for sharing their stories with us.

[2:45] Brendon Henderson: The world owes a lot to ancient Greece. The Olympics. The catapult. The pap smear. But perhaps one of the farthest-reaching innovations was the Greeks' influence on the world of storytelling, with particular regard to theater arts. Contrary to what modern Broadway would have you believe, the Greeks weren't concerned with telling tales of web-swinging superheroes fighting spider goddesses or toga-clad teenagers dancing to 80s pop in their gym classes. Instead, they viewed theater as a serious opportunity to investigate humanity and to honor their gods. With one god in particular. No, not him. He used to be famous for being in U2, uh, when... For ancient Grecians, every aspect of human life was controlled by 12 Olympians.

Zeus was the god of weather and fate. Athena was the goddess of wisdom and war, and Poseidon was the god of the sea. Dionysus was the god of a kick-ass good time. Sure, the other gods got pitchforks and lightning rods, but Dionysus was able to get crazy. He's known as the god of festivities and revelry. Four times a year, gatherings were held to worship him through song, dance, alcohol, and one-too-many goat sacrifices. In the spring of 534 BCE, this gathering became more than just a twisted goat-cella. By introducing a theater festival in which three playwrights would compete for the right to emerge victorious and to take home... a goat.

[5:04] Brendon Henderson: As many as 16,000 Athenian citizens would shuffle into the colossal amphitheater as they witnessed the newest works from genius playwrights like Euripides and Sophocles. Throughout the ages, it seems the world has seen numerous examples of these genius hotspots. Places where, for a distinct period of time, an inexplicable amount of inventive personalities and revolutionary ideas are produced. It happened in Vienna, it happened in Florence, and it especially happened in Ancient Greece. But fast forward 2,000 years, and it's safe to say the world had never seen as eclectic a hotspot as Montpelier, Vermont in 2006.

[5:53] Brendon Henderson: The cozy and quaint home of America's smallest state capital was undergoing a social and creative renaissance, with the quiet downtown area practically exploding overnight with an influx of poets, musicians, and artists. At the epicenter of this artistic expansion sat the Langdon Street Cafe. The spot was the type of place any diehard creator or romantic dreamer would paint as the perfect nook to lose themselves in for hours on end. As soon as the sun set on this tranquil and picturesque haven of the arts, it would transform into a joyous carnival that could rival the festivals of Dionysus, with considerably less goat sacrifices. The cafe's staple was an event called Crazy Mystery Fun Night, a place where on any given weekend evening, the venue would be overrun with shows catering to a wacky, free-spirited avant-garde crowd that could rarely be contained within the cafe's walls, spilling out into the streets of Montpelier in a free-flowing parade of artistic anarchy. But on the last Thursday of every month, the space was dedicated to music.

[7:18] Brendon Henderson: Anais Mitchell was a hungry young girl. She was no stranger to the world, no stranger to the wind. Just a young girl working on a song. A musician who had grown up on a steady diet of Greek mythology and folk legend, Mitchell's boyfriend Noah Hahn was a co-owner of the cafe, serving as an intimate environment for her to celebrate the beauty of music. Being a recent graduate of Middlebury College, her degree in political science had been placed on the back burner as she shifted her aspirations from becoming a journalist to instead taking the daring leap towards becoming a professional musician.

[8:03] Brendon Henderson: The mid-2000s was the era of the independent music movement, when artists didn't need labels to achieve success, just a microphone and a place to record. Her 2004 album, Hymns for the Exiled, was recorded in the 100-year-old gristmill of producer Michael Chorney. The record offered Mitchell her first taste of commercial success, while also defining her abstract style of hypnotic melodies and profoundly nuanced lyrics. As a young artist with a lot to say, her best chance to be heard would be in the world of folk. Folk music grew to prominence in America during the Great Depression era, rising from shared emotions of struggle and a longing desire for community. Singers like Woody Guthrie, Lead Belly, and John Hurt would lead the charge, writing songs that would be sung on train boxcars as workers traveled city to city in search of their next low-paying job. And while she may not have been alive at the same time as Woody Guthrie, Anais Mitchell was still living that same type of life.

[9:13] Brendon Henderson: Living in her car, traveling city to city in search of her next job. The main thing willing her forward being getting back to the Langdon Street Cafe and college boyfriend Noah Hahn. Driving home from a late night gig in Virginia, with her only companions being the radio and an empty passenger seat, an overwhelming sense of loneliness began to take hold. The endless stream of streetlights passing by, posing as a melancholic reminder that even though she'd soon be reunited with her partner, it would only be a matter of time before the road once again pulled her away from him. Watching the miles pass by, and thinking of getting back to Noah, a lyric and a melody popped into her head that reminded her of the Greek myths she used to read as a child.

The main purpose of storytelling in Greek mythology was to teach people something important about things they couldn't understand. The stories oftentimes helped explain simple phenomenon whose understanding was simply out of ordinary citizens' reach. And yet one of the biggest questions from this period is still one that persists to this day. What happens after death?

[10:48] Brendon Henderson: As the majority of gods sat perched high atop the majestic Mount Olympus, Zeus's older brother Hades dwelled in the gloomy depths of the underworld. Ruling over the dead and seeing to it that no one ever left the realm. At his side sat his queen, Persephone, the daughter of Zeus, whom he had bound to his kingdom for eternity, only allowing her to leave every spring in an event that would mark the season of rebirth in nature. Though he's been depicted as a fearsome and stern deity, Hades actually seemed to be one of the more equitable gods of the Greek pantheon. The best example of this comes from the myth chronicling the one time Hades made an exception to his rule and allowed a soul to leave the underworld. The tale of Orpheus and Eurydice.

[11:43] Brendon Henderson: The tragedy has been a favorite for artistic interpretation throughout the ages, with the story appearing in everything from dance, film, music, and one Arcade Fire album. For those who don't know the story, buckle up because here comes some 2000-year-old spoilers. The story follows Orpheus, a 500 BC soft boy who's able to win the world over with the power of his music. He meets a plot device named Eurydice, and just before they get married, she steps on a snake and gets bitten and dies. Orpheus becomes a sad boy and writes seven John Mayer-esque songs before he decides he's going to go down to the underworld and get Eurydice back. Upon reaching the underworld, Hades is like, whoa, you're not supposed to be here.

And Orpheus is like, your body is a wonderland. And then Hades goes, wow, that was beautiful. And Persephone says, let him take Eurydice. Beautiful. And Persephone says, let him take Eurydice home. And then Hades says, OK, sure you can take Eurydice home on one condition. Eurydice has to be behind you as you walk back. And if you look behind you, then she's gonna die. Orpheus goes, well, that's kind of weird, but whatever, dude. Hot topic closes at eight.

[13:08] Brendon Henderson: The two journey through the underworld and right before Eurydice crosses back into the land of the living, Orpheus turns around to see if she's still there, forcing her to vanish back to the underworld for eternity. In some versions of the story, Orpheus starts singing his sad songs again. And these mad women are like, dude, shut the fuck up. And they rip him apart.

[13:30] Brendon Henderson: Limb from limb, only leaving his head to cry out for Eurydice. It's a lot more heartbreaking and romantic in reality, but you get the point. Following her car ride home from Virginia, Anais continued to ponder the lines she sang, and how closely it mirrored this tale. As she started working on her third album, it was as if Mitchell had been touched by a muse when she brought in a track titled Hades and Persephone. It stood out from the rest of the album in the way it broke from Anais' typical introspective style by instead giving her the artistic liberty to play around with the viewpoints and voices as the two godly characters debated whether they should let Orpheus leave with Eurydice. Fueled by artistic inspiration from through-sung shows like Les Mis and Sweeney Todd, while also tapping into those same Greek myths which had shaped her childhood, Mitchell began bringing in song after song to share with producer Michael Chorney, all of which she had zero intention of recording for the album. After a few weeks of this, Anais looked at Chorney and said, I think I'm writing a folk opera. To which Chorney responded, Let's finish this album first.

[14:51] Brendon Henderson: As the stockpile of songs continued to grow, the idea of staging a full-blown musical continued to blossom, as Mitchell found herself on yet another long car ride. Only this time, she wasn't alone. In the passenger seat was Ben Matchstick, the theater anarchist in residence for the Langdon Cafe. Similar to Anais, Ben was no stranger to mixing art and politics. Ben had been immersed in the world of avant-garde theater thanks to his time with Bread and Puppet Theater Company in Vermont. The company was known for its passionate fan base, who would gather in fields to watch politically radical giant puppets engage in dynamic pieces made on shoestring budgets. The two spent hours envisioning a way to blend the tales of both Orpheus and Eurydice that would transcend being a staging of Greek mythology and instead become a myth itself, focusing on the immortal human conflict of industry, nature, poverty, and security.

[16:01] Brendon Henderson: Coming off the heels of Hurricane Katrina in 2005, the drastic effects of climate change inspired an image in Mitchell's mind of refugees fleeing their homelands for safety in America, only to be trapped outside, knocking on a towering, impenetrable wall. Mitchell imagined the underworld being surrounded by this same type of wall that both kept out the enemy of the poor, while also trapping the mindless workers inside, both giving them a world that was safe and secure, but devoiding them of the freedom that comes with humanity. Though the desolate wasteland was disheartening, in this oppressive wall, there was a crack. Drawing inspiration from the cafe, an initial concept was to have an underworld speakeasy that Persephone ran behind Hades' back, with the main attraction being a vintage tower viewer, where those trapped in the realm could pay a quarter to sneak a peek past the wall for a glimpse at a sky full of stars.

The melancholy tableau of the workers trying to see the beauty in nature that many people take for granted led Mitchell to officially come up with the perfect name for her folk opera, A Crack in the Wall. About a week later, she changed it.

[17:19] Brendon Henderson: Drawing on the inherently folk values of the show, Ben and Anais dove deeper into the idea of crafting a story that showcased the conflict between industrialism and humanity. The images of 1930s workers in boxcars being carted to their next backbreaking job, and the idea of the workers becoming revolutionaries, served as exciting territory to explore. When thinking of how they wanted to craft Orpheus as a character, they looked no further than folk icon Woody Guthrie. Their Orpheus would be an idealistic, unwitting revolutionary ready to change the world with a song. And on the other side would be Hades, the power-hungry overlord who ruled with an iron fist. The underworld would no longer be a mystical, faraway fantasy, but rather a snapshot of the dust, sweat, and despair of a 1930s factory town.

The images they were conjuring up reminded Anais Mitchell of a trip she had taken to Mexico when she was 21. Shocked at the poverty and desperation she had seen, Mitchell wrote a lyric which said, Follow that dollar for a long way down, far away from the poorhouse door, you either get to hell or a border town, ain't no difference anymore.

[18:44] Brendon Henderson: Looking at the influences they had conjured up, she repurposed the line and threw in one very important word that would completely reshape the production. Anais walked into the Langdon Street Cafe, found Ben working behind the coffee bar, leaned in and told him, I think I have a new name for the show. Immediately after hearing it, Ben stared at her and said, this is going to win a Tony. No longer would the show be called A Crack in the Wall. Now, the underworld would officially become Hadestown.

[19:25] Brendon Henderson: As the summer came, the Langdon Street Cafe was proving to be a saving grace in supplying Anais and Ben with a welcoming, creative environment to work in. Little did they know, it would also supply them with something they were desperately missing. Actors. The Vermont version of Hadestown had a limited budget of $5,000, so the easiest and cheapest way to get people to be in the show would be by casting people who either worked at or were regular patrons of the cafe. A ragtag coalition of baristas, cooks, managers, and owners would act alongside Ben, who would be playing the narrator character of Hermes, and Anais, who would be playing Eurydice. As opening night approached, they started to notice that every song was starting to sound similar.

The structure was there, and the lyrics were stunning. What they were missing was theatrical orchestration. For help in achieving a more distinct sound, Mitchell turned to her trusted friend and producer, Michael Chorney. Chorney was a well-traveled musician, possessing a diverse understanding and appreciation of multiple genres. Chorney's band at the time, Magic City, consisted of bass, drums, guitar, trombone, and cello, giving him the freedom to grab everything he could out of the bag of musical style. The soundscape for Hadestown would come to be a diverse mix of African rhythms and jazz style that ran the gamut from downtown minimalist New York avant-garde to West African guitar.

[21:09] Brendon Henderson: By the time winter rolled around, Hadestown finally started rehearsals. With limited resources, funds, and time, the rehearsal period was rapid, with the creative team only having one week to prepare the entire show before opening. On December 8th, 2006, the throwaway line Anais had sung on a long car ride had been transformed into a full-fledged production when Hadestown opened to the public at the Berry Labor Hall in Berry, Vermont. The costumes were quintessentially folk, and the set was a threadbare cardboard mishmash made both out of necessity and out of a desire to lean into the abstraction that would give the audience room to fill in the blanks. The show flowed uninterrupted from one song to the next.

All the while, the cast and crew noticed one troubling aspect. The crowd was completely silent. No laughter, no applause, nothing. Once the show ended and the music stopped, the silence persisted. The trio stood before the silent crowd, having bared their creative souls and waiting to see the reaction. And then, the applause began. And it got louder and louder until the entire opera house crowd was on their feet delivering a standing ovation that seemed to last longer than the show itself. Hadestown was a community hit. The show would perform for two weekends at two different venues, selling out every night. But they weren't finished yet. Not even close.

[22:55] Brendon Henderson: By the time their first run ended in 2006, the team realized that they had something special and picked up steam to take the show to the next level. The next slate of performances was much more intense as they toured the entire state of Vermont and parts of Massachusetts in a donated school bus. The show became darker, being set in a post-apocalyptic steampunk future. By the end of the month-long tour, local crowds were resonating with the show on a level that Anais herself had never expected. Once the bus returned home to Montpelier, after their final show, Anais was faced with a daunting question by Michael Chorney. What is your goal with this show? It was a big question, but one she was prepared to answer. She looked at Michael and said, I want to write a piece that enters the American theater canon. The only question was, how?

[24:11] Brendon Henderson: When the second run of Hadestown wrapped up in 2007, Anais Mitchell went back to performing tip gigs to help her survive while looking for ways to immortalize the show in a concept album. Whereas a traditional album features numerous songs that are unconnected, a concept album is a collection of songs that are based around a central theme. In the world of theater, the concept album was nothing new. Mitchell took this same approach in 2009 after a casual conversation with her childhood hero, folk legend, Ani DiFranco. DiFranco had signed Mitchell to her label, Righteous Babes Records, shortly before the release of her album, The Brightness, and the two had grown increasingly close. It was during one of these chats that Mitchell admitted she had written the role of Persephone, imagining DiFranco playing her.

After learning this, she looked at Mitchell and said, oh, I could totally do that. This completely changed the direction of the concept album. While Mitchell had been batting around the idea of doing a live cast recording of the team from the Langdon Street Cafe, she knew that she'd have a far better chance of exposing the show to a wider audience with singers like DiFranco leading the charge than she would with a barista from a small cafe in Vermont.

[25:53] Brendon Henderson: To secure the funding for the recording, Mitchell started reaching out directly to her fans via email, asking for their support in exchange for shirts and other perks to help her finance the album, rewriting, crafting, and recruiting talent that entire year. When the time came to record the album, she had been able to use her connections from touring gigs and her time with Righteous Babes to assemble an impressive roster of folk performers, including Bon Iver frontman Justin Vernon playing Orpheus, DiFranco playing Persephone, Mitchell playing Eurydice, and the original members of the Vermont cast providing the ensemble vocals. With the cast in place, the only thing the album needed now was a cover.

Mitchell commissioned her artist friend Peter Nevins to create linoleum-cut portraits that showcased each character holding an object. Orpheus held a banjo, Persephone a cup, and Hades a bird. The only person they hadn't discussed was Eurydice. A few days passed and when the two met again, Nevins shared a piece of art that found the doomed lover with her eyes closed and in her hands she was holding a rose. After seeing the image, Mitchell asked Nevins why that was the object he picked. He responded, I don't know, it just felt right.

[26:41] Brendon Henderson: Hadestown was released on March 9th, 2010 and was met with near universal commercial and critical acclaim. With the album performing beyond expectations, Mitchell could see another opportunity to share the story with a much larger audience by embarking on a concert tour of the album.

[27:01] Brendon Henderson: Packed up a van and embarked on the Sings Hadestown Tour, an international music extravaganza across 60 cities in the US, Canada, and the UK, as they worked with well-regarded musicians and singers of the areas who had oftentimes just learned their parts that day. However, it would be their performance in California that would change the trajectory of the show forever.

[27:34] Brendon Henderson: Dale Franzen was a lot of things. She was a former opera singer, she was the artistic director of the Broad Stage in Santa Monica, but above all else, she was a major fan of Hadestown. And after seeing California Sings Hadestown at McCabe's Guitar Shop, Franzen knew that Hadestown would be a perfect fit for the stage. The only catch was, Franzen had never taken on a task like this before. Still, to Anaïs, there was something about Franzen that made her stand out from all the other offers she was receiving, agreeing to bring her on board as the show's lead producer. Franzen suggested the show go to the regional Broad Stage in Santa Monica, but by this point, Anaïs had her sights set on something bigger.

She wanted to take Hadestown to New York. After pitching the prospect to multiple companies, in 2012, the show would be awarded an opportunity at the New York Theatre Workshop. While the news was exciting, Mitchell's path down to Hadestown had now led to a difficult fork in the road of arts and commerce. The Sings Hadestown concert tour was proving to be extremely fruitful for Mitchell and Chorney, but there was still one person left spinning their wheels back in Vermont. Director Ben Matchstick. Hadestown was continuing to grow, and slowly Ben could begin to feel his grip on the show starting to loosen. Still, Matchstick continued to dive deeper and deeper into the dramaturgical and design aspects of the show to get it prepared for its first workshop in New York City.

In November of 2012, the cast and crew assembled at the NYTW in the East Village, surprisingly attracting Broadway heavyweights like André De Shields and Patrick Page to take part in the proceedings. But it seemed that the closer and closer the workshop got, the deeper the divide became between Ben and Anaïs' creative directions. Ben wanted to create a gritty, scary musical that would play extremely well to an avant-garde crowd off-off-Broadway. This directly conflicted with Anaïs, who was leaning towards the more traditional route of creating a musical that would be inviting and accessible to a wider range of patrons. The two were each working on entirely different projects, and it was on full display during the workshop.

The proceedings were an awkward mix of an unprepared Ben talking about abstract concepts for the show, and an equally flustered Anaïs trying to fill in the gaps. Ben was still holding on to the eclectic, high-paced anything-go style of the 2006 production, which didn't mesh well with the structure of professional theater in New York.

[30:26] Brendon Henderson: Following the less-than-stellar workshop, Ben earnestly grabbed his sketches and concept notes to catch up with Anaïs and producer Dale Franzen before she returned to California. The only thing he didn't know was that the two had met privately the night before. During the workshop, it was made perfectly clear to Anaïs that the production was at a point where it could go one of two ways. It could either run off-off-Broadway for two months in a theater downtown, or it could run on Broadway for years. Ultimately, it was up to Anaïs to make the decision of where she wanted Hadestown to go. But if she chose to continue with Ben as a director, then Franzen was going to walk away from the project. When Ben arrived to go over the designs, Anaïs pulled him aside and asked if they could go on a walk.

While Ben had been an instrumental part in helping the show become what it was up to that point, at the end of the day, Hadestown was Anaïs' creation. She recognized that the two were working in different directions, and it seemed that they were at a point where the two concepts couldn't coexist. And so, as the two walked through the brisk November air in Prospect Park, she told Ben that he needed to walk away.

[31:58] Brendon Henderson: May 13. Anaïs Mitchell had been sitting in front of her computer on a video call for four and a half hours. On the other side of the screen was Obie award-winning director Rachel Chavkin. The pair had been introduced to each other through a mutual friend and had been teasing the idea of collaborating on Hadestown for six months. In similar fashion to Mitchell, Chavkin also had a lot to say. She was a director on the rise, becoming revered downtown for her inclusive casting, commitment to storytelling, and her visual inventiveness. Over the course of their video chat, Anaïs shared the story of The Origins for Wait For Me. After hearing the story of her car ride home from Virginia, Chavkin couldn't resist anymore and said, can I just tell you what I'm picturing?

The song describing Orpheus' descent into the underworld to rescue Eurydice filled Chavkin's mind with haunting images of a hero's journey into the dark depths of the unknown. His only guides being a row of solitary lamps swinging from the ceiling, symbolizing the yearning of searching headlights. The sharing of this concept effectively opened the floodgates, and soon Chavkin officially agreed to join the production as its director. As the show geared up for its first residency at Dartmouth College in 2014, the creative team's main objective was to take the abstract nature of the concept album and mold it for the stage. Mitchell had begun playing around with a libretto in an attempt to connect the songs through traditionally spoken scenes, but after showing it to Chavkin, she was told to dump it.

When it came to moving the story forward, the poetic nature of the songs would be enough. Once dramaturge Ken Trenaglia was brought onto the project, Hadestown would be tested like never before, as it left the security of the music world to be subjected to the rigors of theatrical storytelling. For Mitchell, who wasn't a regular theatergoer, it was like drinking out of a fire hose. She had been attached to the project for seven years by this point, and with some of the drastic changes they were suggesting, she wasn't sure if she had what it took to make any of the changes. After getting notes from the team, Mitchell would retreat to a small practice room in an office in Brooklyn to make revisions.

It was here that the doubt started to creep in, as she began contemplating stopping Hadestown to do anything else that would be better for the world. When she brought this up to Chavkin, after once again being bombarded with notes, Chavkin's response was direct and unflinching, as she said, if we're going to find a way to work together, you're going to have to move past your fatigue. The next two years were a rigorous test of trial and error, as the show bounced between workshops and residencies all over the country, trying to get Hadestown to a point that the New York Theatre Workshop could confidently add it to its off-Broadway season. But with each stop, the same note kept reappearing. Great songs!

We have no idea what's happening! The poetic imagery of the music seemed to be halting any theatrical action. To help solve this problem, the team looked to the role of Hermes, and began to mold it to serve as a narrator who could keep the audience in the loop. By 2015, the team was growing more hopeful that the New York Theatre Workshop would finally agree to add them to their season. Feeling excited at the prospect, Chavkin and Mitchell went to dinner with artistic director Jim Nicola. The excitement was cut short. When only a few drinks in, he told them that he didn't feel Hadestown was ready to be produced. In his eyes, the show was missing a first act. It was still too bleak, and it was difficult to distinguish the difference between the underworld and the mortal world above it.

Unlike the myth, Hadestown modified the character of Eurydice from a helpless victim to an active instigator, choosing to go with Hades out of a desire for food and security, only to realize too late what a horrible decision she made. To Nicola, if life was just as bad up top as it was down below, why wouldn't she just stay with Hades?

[36:31] Brendon Henderson: This discussion spawned the song Livin' It Up On Top, a rousing jazz-infused number for Persephone that would help highlight some of the beauty that Eurydice would come to miss. Hadestown would officially be slated for the final slot of the New York Theatre Workshop's 2015-2016 season. Cress Sullivan would take over the role of Hermes from De Shields, who was involved in another commitment. The rest of the cast would include Damon Dono as Orpheus, Nabiah Bee as Eurydice, as well as Lulu Fall, Shana Taub, and Jesse Shelton rounding off the fates. While the young lovers Orpheus and Eurydice would be played by relative newcomers, the troubled couple of Hades and Persephone would be played by two familiar faces from the initial Off-Broadway workshops and residencies, Patrick Page and Amber Gray.

With the show now having a space dedicated to their production, Chavkin and set designer Rachel Houck got to work on creating a set that was able to draw on the Depression-era aesthetic of the Vermont production with a more theatrical approach. Even though we didn't mean to, the music that Chorney had orchestrated had a very distinct New Orleans vibe to it. This became a major touchstone for Houck, who began experimenting with the two extremes of Louisiana, the vintage party feeling of the French Quarter, and the cold industrial feeling of the offshore oil drilling.

[38:12] Brendon Henderson: Instead of the traditional proscenium-style staging they had been using up to this point, with the action taking place behind an imaginary fourth wall, Houck decided to place the story in the round, with audience members surrounding the action much like they had in the amphitheaters of Ancient Greece. The most striking element of the design came in the form of a giant tree with long, flowing branches that seemed to cradle the auditorium. When Hadestown opened at NYTW in May of 2016, the New York Times placed high praise on the actors, the design, and the music, specifically the song, Why We Build the Wall. Though the song had been included in the original 2006 version, it had taken a completely different meaning in each incarnation, with the 2010 version being connected to the Great Recession, and the Off-Broadway version being placed in the context of the frightening campaign promises that were making the rounds surrounding the 2016 United States presidential election.

[39:54] Brendon Henderson: But while the show was visually and musically stunning, many critics reached a consensus that the story was lacking dramatic action, and there were major problems brewing revolving around two of the most important characters in the show, Orpheus and Eurydice. Reviewers found that when compared to the deeply human-dramatic conflict between the King of Industry and the Goddess of the Earth, Orpheus and Eurydice seemed two-dimensional, and out of focus. Knowing how much work the show still needed, producers Dale Franzen and Mara Isaacs took the show far away from the public eye. The production reached the Citadel Theatre in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada in October 2017, and it wasn't long before the story of Hadestown really started to show its fragility.

Multiple problems began to get bigger, as the team tried to solve how to let the abstract spirit of the poetry have its place, while also allowing for moments of literal action to help clear up any misunderstanding. It was a battle of the literal versus the abstract, but the most persistent problem the team faced in Edmonton was coming to terms with a pretty inconvenient truth. Orpheus was kind of a jerk.

[40:18] Brendon Henderson: Mitchell, Chavkin, and Trenaglia were always at a disadvantage with Orpheus. The Greek myths didn't exactly lend themselves to in-depth character descriptions, and when dealing with a character whose musical skills are believed to have the power to move gods.

[40:33] Brendon Henderson: And literally change the seasons. There's no way he isn't initially going to come off as a total Bono.

[40:40] Brendon Henderson: Damon Dono had been able to bring a heartthrob energy to the role, which was braggadocio, but still had a hint of James Dean charisma to it. When it was announced that the show would be moving to Edmonton, it came with the caveat that Dono wouldn't be coming with, as he and his guitar had a date with the revival of Oklahoma. With the role needing to be filled, the creative team assembled a list of possible candidates to read for the role before leaving for Canada, and somewhere in the mix was Reeve Carney. When he arrived in the audition room, he wasn't entirely sure that he would be the right person for the role, since it was sung in a register lower than he was used to. It had also been four years since his last performance on Broadway, in the infamous Spider-Man Turn Off the Dark, that was also incidentally his first professional role on the Great White Way.

Anaïs had placed him near the top of her list, and in 2017 he would officially take over the role of Orpheus, finding himself once again facing off against Patrick Page in a Broadway show with overtly Greek undertones. Hopefully this time, things would end, uh, differently.

[42:02] Brendon Henderson: The team reshaped his lines, so the character would focus more on a collective, and less on himself, and even tried going back to the Woody Guthrie inspiration by painting him as a Dust Bowl era farm boy. But where the team finally hit gold was with the addition of a worker's chorus. This idea went all the way back to Vermont, when they needed a utility chorus to help keep chords and other technical equipment organized during the show. They were called Creepy Crawlies, since they were dressed completely in black, and had to stay low to the ground, so the audience couldn't see them. In Edmonton, they decided to reintroduce this concept, by instead having the chorus be represented as workers who had sold their souls to Hades, and were now mindless drones trapped behind the wall.

Not only did this help the show narratively, by demonstrating that Orpheus's trip out of Hadestown would have far-reaching effects on everyone, it also helped the show begin its transition away from being a concert piece. A move that was only elevated by the addition of two turntables that would help better paint the visual picture of the long journey out of Hadestown. With each design and staging choice, Hadestown seemed to be leaning more and more towards being a well-behaved commercial musical.

[43:27] Brendon Henderson: In the middle of the set now sat an elaborate railroad set, where a large majority of the show's action would take place. The cast was no longer on stage for the duration of the show, and the riotous New Orleans-style speakeasy was abandoned, thus leaving behind a beautifully bleak set that felt like a depression era Waiting for Godot. But the tree that had originally felt embracing and all-encompassing in New York, now felt small and sterile as it sat next to a wall. As previews began inching closer, both Chafkin and set designer Rachel Hauck could sense that the vibe of the show had been lost, but they couldn't place their finger on exactly what was wrong. This same feeling was echoed when Chafkin and Mitchell sat in on a costume fitting for Persephone.

Even though she was in a beautiful Grecian dress that gave her the appearance of a literal Greek goddess, something still wasn't right. Costume designer Michael Kress went on an expedition through the basement of the Citadel, and when he returned to the room, he held with him a beautiful green dress. As soon as Amber Gray put the dress on, a light bulb went off in Chafkin's mind. The show had leaned so far into the realm of literal storytelling, that it had lost the abstract nuances connecting the ancient Greek myth to a contemporary way of life.

[45:04] Brendon Henderson: By the end of the first night of previews, Rachel Chafkin made a bold decision and decided to pull the trigger on something truly radical. They needed to restage the entire first act. Even though the cast originally were making entrances and exits, they would once again be on stage the entire time, and the massive and expensive central set piece of real railroad tracks would be removed. Similar to the show's humble beginnings, they restaged the entire first act in one afternoon, and performed it later that night at the show's second preview. Come 2018, the competition for a space in New York's theater district was beginning to intensify, and with nowhere to take the show after Edmonton, the team thankfully received an offer from one of the most prestigious companies in the world, the National Theater.

The cast of Hadestown invaded London with a sense of renewed enthusiasm and brought the show to its next phase of life at the Olivier Theater, the largest of the company's three stages. The National Theater gave the team access to everything they needed right from the get-go, with the set now embracing the qualities of a New Orleans-style club placed inside an oil drum, and André De Shields returning to the narrative role of Hermes.

[46:22] Brendon Henderson: But a familiar problem still lingered. People were still having trouble caring about the young lovers. This was a problem that was only magnified after they recast Eurydice. Up to this point, the character had seen numerous interpretations. Off-Broadway, Nabiyah Be was a sweet spellbinding innocence to the character, while in Edmonton, former Greek goddess turned Spider-Man villain, TV Carpio infused her with an empathetic naivete. But the character found an entirely new dimension once they brought in a young actress named Eva Noblezada. All of a sudden, Eurydice was no longer an innocent, enchanting folk maiden, but instead she was a strong-willed punk. This transformation was convincing because it was true to who Noblezada was as a person.

In turn, this authenticity clashed with Orpheus, who was proving to be the one character without a distinct, relatable personality. It seemed that Carney was still trying to emulate the same Off-Broadway swagger of Damon Dono, coming off as self-obsessed, cocky, and strong-minded in a way that wasn't true to who Carney was. Orpheus found himself trapped in an identity crisis, with zero room to make any discoveries or to grow as a character.

[48:03] Brendon Henderson: This raised a handful of questions, like why would Orpheus waste his time and energy on Eurydice? Why would she come back to the mortal world with this guy? And perhaps the biggest question, what would make this version of Orpheus turn around? This was a feeling that was echoed by many audience members and reviewers following the show's premiere in London. There had been a few critical notes in the previous runs, but at the National Theatre, the distaste turned to a full-blown hatred, with the words irritating, unbearable, and mind-numbing appearing in many of the reviews. Despite a sold-out run in London, it was seeming to be that Reeve Carney's second attempt at Broadway would be much like his first unless something changed, fast. Luckily this time, the creative team wasn't going to let this boy fall from the sky.

[48:58] Brendon Henderson: Looking at its prospects on paper, it seemed that the odds of Hadestown making it to Broadway would always be slim. It was a form of music that wasn't popular in the genre of musical theatre, it was an ancient story written by a songwriter with little theatrical knowledge, and the project was spearheaded by two people who had never produced a musical on the Great White Way. And yet despite all of this, one of the biggest obstacles for the show was trying to find a theatre in the theatre district. After their performances at the National, the team realized that smaller houses were better for allowing the story of Hadestown to thrive in a more intimate environment. In December of 2018, Chris Christie's favorite show, Bruce Springsteen on Broadway, was scheduled to wrap up its residency at the Walter Kerr Theatre on 48th Street.

With 947 seats, the theatre was the ideal size to be both artistically inviting and commercially viable. The announcement that Hadestown would begin Broadway previews in March of the following year meant that they had four months to solve the problem that had bedeviled the production since 2016. Getting the audience to root for Orpheus.

[50:14] Brendon Henderson: The team realized that they needed to take a step back and adjust the framing by going back to what had drawn Anaïs to the story of Orpheus and Eurydice in the first place. Anaïs wasn't drawn to the story because Orpheus was some show-off who believed he could conquer the world with his talent. It was because he was a naive artist who believed, somewhat foolishly, that he could change the world with his song. He was never a braggart. He was an innocent. Perhaps the key to making Orpheus more likable and justified in his behavior was to infuse him with a childlike innocence towards the harsh reality of the world. Theoretically, this would make him a more sympathetic character that audiences couldn't help but cheer on when pitted against the wicked Hades.

This was the epiphany the show had been waiting for. And slowly but surely, all the pieces started to fall into place. Orpheus was no longer detached from the other characters because he thought he was above them. He was detached because his head was in the clouds, through his intense dedication to finishing his song that he believed would bring back spring.

[51:30] Brendon Henderson: The role of Hermes, which had been left intentionally vague up to this point, transformed to serve as a bridge of connection between Orpheus and the audience, with the god now serving as a mentor figure who had taken him under his wing. The character was finally vulnerable in all the right ways, and in fixing this trait, they also directly enhanced the storytelling for the show's most pivotal moment. The Turn. Up to this point, there had been roughly 20 variations, but something was missing each time. It was only once they were in London that they found the solution. Off-Broadway, Orpheus had led the way back from Hadestown through the entire theater until he reached a door, stopped, and suddenly looked back.

In Edmonton, he turned around, and the lights dropped on Eurydice, who would then walk offstage in the darkness. All the variations, while shocking, seemed to leave a lot to be desired. The Turn wasn't motivated, and the aftermath didn't show how both Orpheus and Eurydice were affected by it. The ancient Greek myths were designed to explain simple phenomena whose understanding was simply out of reach, and one of the biggest questions is one that still persists to this day. What happens after death? In London, the walk became less of a journey through the underworld, and instead became one through the world of grief.

[53:00] Brendon Henderson: On Broadway, Orpheus' vulnerability to the feeling of being alone is amplified, and the Fates capitalize on this to begin filling his head with doubt. Maybe he had been lied to. Maybe she isn't behind him. Maybe he is alone. All of these negative thoughts begin to swirl in his mind as the Fates get louder and louder as Orpheus descends the stairs, with the mortal world in reach the two inch closer and crossing back into the land of the living until ultimately doubt overtakes Orpheus as he turns to see if Eurydice is still with him. She is, but she still hasn't crossed the line yet. With one last utterance of each other's names, Eurydice, placed on a newly installed elevator in the middle of a turntable, begins to descend back down to Hadestown.

[54:04] Brendon Henderson: Never breaking eye contact with Orpheus until she's gone.

[54:12] Brendon Henderson: The cast and crew watched this moment in stunned silence. Choreographer David Newman felt like puking. But they all knew this was what the story had been missing.

[54:19] Brendon Henderson: While a simple lighting change had got the job done, the addition of the elevator heightened the piece in the way it placed the moment outside of people's will, and stayed true to the Greek myths in answering the harsh realities of death.

[54:26] Brendon Henderson: Orpheus wants Eurydice to stay, but it's inevitable that she has to go. Not by her own choice, not by Hades dragging her down, but rather by the world itself taking her away.

[54:43] Brendon Henderson: The show continued to inch closer and closer towards its opening night, and Anais Mitchell worked harder than she ever had before on Hadestown. She was constantly reevaluating and tweaking virtually every element of the piece, trying to get it to an unrealistic level of perfection.

[55:10] Brendon Henderson: After one particularly restless night, she fled to Brooklyn to get advice from her muse, her now husband, Noah Hahn. With the lock date fast approaching, and Anais becoming increasingly anxious, he offered her one final piece of advice.

[55:50] Brendon Henderson: After 13 years, it was time for her to let it go.

[56:01] Brendon Henderson: On April 17th, 2019, the story of Hadestown prepared for its opening night, finally on Broadway. The towering skyscrapers, flashing lights, velvet ropes, and designer clothes were a far cry from their donated school bus in Vermont.

[56:10] Brendon Henderson: And yet, looking at the marquee, there was one thing that had always remained constant. The red flower. The original lithographic sketch of the concept album was no more. Now, in its place, sat a new modernized illustration with vintage undertones.

[56:39] Brendon Henderson: The show had journeyed through so many different styles, actors, musicians, and interpretations, but even as the show evolved to be more commercially bankable in contemporary theater, underneath, the heart and soul of the shoestring origins never left.

[56:57] Brendon Henderson: From Vermont, to New York, to Edmonton, to London, and back, it always just felt right. Backstage, the rush of nervous excitement was palpable, with no one truly knowing what to expect, since this would be the Broadway debut for a large majority of the cast and crew.

[57:07] Brendon Henderson: This was especially true for orchestrator and onstage band member, Michael Chorney, as his first performance would also mark his first time seeing a Broadway show.

[57:18] Brendon Henderson: After the cast and band took the stage, Andre De Shields sauntered on and began saying his first few lines. It was almost as if the show had transported back to their very first Vermont performance, with the audience falling dead silent.

[57:38] Brendon Henderson: But as the trombone started playing, the audience erupted in a way that no one had ever heard on Broadway before, and it never let up.

[57:53] Brendon Henderson: With each incarnation of the show, from Vermont to London, the underground cult following of Hadestown continued to grow. Every fan had been waiting for this moment, and they let the cast and crew know it.

[58:04] Brendon Henderson: As the curtain fell, the cheers were deafening.

[58:21] Brendon Henderson: The show was universally celebrated, with reviewers who had seen the show during other legs of its journey noting the impressive lyrical and narrative changes that only added to the transformation.

[58:32] Brendon Henderson: Hadestown still possessed the same grassroots vibe of the 2006 production, but it managed to find the perfect balance between the abstract and the literal, between poetry and action, between art and commerce.

[58:45] Brendon Henderson: With the show proving to be a commercial and critical success, by the time the nominations for the 2019 Tony Awards rolled around, everyone was optimistic about their chances, but still waited with bated breath.

[58:52] Brendon Henderson: By the time all was said and done, Hadestown racked up 14 nominations, the most for the season. For the cast and crew, the nominations came with an excited enthusiasm, but for director Rachel Chafkin, they also highlighted a troubling reality of Broadway's lack of diversity.

[59:12] Brendon Henderson: Supporting this case was the fact that Mitchell's nomination for Best Original Score and Best Book meant that she would be the first woman in years to be nominated with sole credit for a Broadway show.

[59:27] Brendon Henderson: As for Chafkin, she was the only woman nominated in the Best Directing category. Over the span of her career, Chafkin had long been witness to Broadway's theory that there weren't enough properly skilled members of underrepresented groups in the industry.

[59:45] Brendon Henderson: To her, the Tony Awards would be the perfect platform to bring this issue to the forefront. As she rode the train home with Amber Gray, Chafkin showed her the speech she had written, to which Gray responded, "Cut all the names. You have to be able to get to the second half. It's really important that you get to the second half."

[1:00:04] Brendon Henderson: This issue came to a head in one of the most crucial moments of the night, when Rachel Chafkin became only the 10th woman in history to win Best Director. That's what is at the heart of this show. It's about whether you can keep faith when you are made to feel alone.

[1:00:27] Brendon Henderson: And it reminds us that that is how power structures try to maintain control, by making you feel like you're walking alone in the darkness, even when your.

[1:00:46] ⚠ About 3 minutes of audio could not be automatically transcribed.

[1:03:47] Brendon Henderson: To the mass protests for civil equity. And yet, in spite of this ever-changing landscape, the story of Hadestown never failed to be relevant, speaking to the dreamers who accepted the harsh reality of what the world is in exchange for the optimistic hope of what the world can be. Much like the Greek myths of old, the story is malleable in the way it transcends the reality of the current moment to instead speak to the universal and far-reaching truth of the human experience. Each character, whether god or man, is infused with their own unique faults and personalities that are painfully human, guaranteeing that each person sitting in the theater is going to feel a close bond to the show simply because they're going to feel seen.

[1:04:40] Brendon Henderson: The song of Hadestown has always been one that everyone should be able to sing, not limiting the roles to a specific gender, age, or race, increased the show's reach and deepened the sense of community by having a cast on stage that looked more like the audiences that had been filling Broadway theaters or listening to the cast albums for years. The overwhelming success of Hadestown cemented the need for a monumental shift in the psyche of Broadway over 150 years in the making. It cemented that it was time to challenge long-held beliefs on what a show, performer, or team member needed to conform to in order to achieve success. It cemented the existence of a modern renaissance. But in order to better understand and appreciate how Broadway reached this critical juncture between tradition and progression, we first have to go back.

[1:05:39] Brendon Henderson: For Reeve Carney and Patrick Page, the success of Hadestown was a much-deserved redemption from their initial outing in Spider-Man Turn Off the Dark in 2011. But around the same time that multi-million dollar train wreck was set to premiere, the webs of an underground Broadway conspiracy were being woven. Special thanks to our amazing center stage patrons, Defunctland, Sebastian Canino, Todd Ramsey, Matt DiMaria, Ethan, and Mark S. You can hear what didn't make the cut as well as behind the scenes insight on the creation of this episode and our extended thoughts on Hadestown on the Too Much Exposition podcast, right here on BPN. If you enjoyed the episode and want to see the visuals connected to it, then head on over to Wait in the Wings on YouTube.

And finally, be sure to visit blacktheatercoalition.org to learn more about the fantastic organization that's seeking to create more opportunities for Black artists, both behind the scenes and on the stage. Thank you once again for listening, and if you want to learn more about the upcoming season and how you can help us make these episodes even better, then check out Project Renaissance at witwgo.com.