Five years ago today, The Light Princess, a musical adapted by Samuel Adamson from a George MacDonald fairytale, directed by Marianne Elliott with music and lyrics by Tori Amos, had its official press opening night on the stage of the Lyttelton Theatre. It was in development for at least five years, and after being delayed for various reasons, I just had to fly to London to catch it when it finally became a reality. I attended a Q&A with Tori and Sam before seeing the musical with friends later that evening, saw it again with A. the next night, and an unplanned third time thanks to scoring cheap day tickets.

Unfortunately, the musical’s life was short-lived, despite being well-received by audiences and critics alike, and plans for a Broadway transfer haven’t come to fruition, but I did get to see some of the original cast reprise their roles for a concert performance this past summer, and it was wonderful to hear these songs again—despite the years that have passed since seeing it grace the National Theatre stage, I can still see the choreography in my mind’s eye when I listen to the cast recording.

The story is essentially the coming-of-age tale of Althea, a princess afflicted by (literal and metaphorical) weightlessness ever since refusing to face her grief after her mother’s death, and her need to accept and feel sorrow to become an adult and face the world. Of course Tori’s touch added an original and daring feminist layer not present in the original fairytale—it’s modernized and often dark in the sense that it brings up confrontations between teenagers and their parents, touching on challenging issues like grief and rebellion, while still remaining (at least in my opinion) family friendly.

On October 18th, a week and a half after press night, quite the crowd of Tori fans from all over the world gathered at the stage door—I don’t think theatre staff or even Tori expected this welcome, since she stepped out of the car in the most casual clothing I’d yet seen her in, wearing sneakers and no makeup whatsoever. She was gracious enough to stay and talk to every single person though, which must’ve taken at least an hour, if not longer. It’s no longer news five years on, but it was here that we first got exciting word about the then still unnamed record Unrepentant Geraldines being released in May of the following year, and the tour to go with it.

The platform talk lasted about 40 minutes (the cast started doing their vocal warm-ups backstage half-way through) and was very insightful as far as the musicals backstory goes—at this point I was still quite new in the fandom and hadn’t been around to really follow all the ups and downs of the project as it was in development, and to know just how much of a collaborative effort it was. Rosalie Craig was part of the original workshop and had been involved in the musical for such a long time that Sam and Tori had the luxury of writing material specifically for her, which isn’t something that happens a lot in the scene. Tori’s love for musical theatre stems from her mother, who would put on those records when she was young, and Mary was also the one to nudge Tori in that direction again after she had her own daughter, so that again goes to show how long ago the seed of the idea of working on a musical was planted. The moderator commented on how each song stood out for being narrative in nature, and moving the story along rather than just providing a platform for a character to step up and belt out their piece, at which Tori said that they could probably make a double-album of songs that had had to be cut because they did just that, or because they’d had to kill off the character that sung it. Tori also said that she wore the two one-star reviews from right-wing newspapers as badges of honor, and how her and Sam now felt like parents watching their child grow up, and trusting that it would go where it needed to go. That is a slightly ironic bit looking back, as is Tori saying that Nick Hytner (the producer who’s reputedly to blame for the musical stagnating after its original run, and about whom she wrote Breakaway) could be a pain in the ass, although she was still describing a very supportive even though challenging relationship at this point. There were some questions from the audience at the end, but nothing very note-worthy was asked – we did get confirmation that a cast recording was being considered though (it took another two years for it to be released, but it was absolutely worth the wait).

I adapted the rest of this post from the random thoughts I jotted down on the plane after originally seeing it (a lot of the things I had to say about the music—which is largely what I focused on—is no longer worth mentioning, given that now anyone interested in it has had the opportunity to hear it, so I edited it down to the visual descriptions), and revisiting these notes was great fun—things that seem so matter-of-fact now that I’ve been listening to the musical for five years were mind-blowing at the time, and then there were other things I’d completely forgotten about. For instance, there were tons of Tori fans in attendance on the 18th (Tori herself was sitting in my row with Tash and husband), and of course it got a deserved standing ovation at the end, but it was the second and third times seeing it that were more interesting to me, because I got to hear the outside perspective from casual theatre-goers. The consensus seemed to be that it was a visual feast and that Rosie gave a career-making performance, but there were quite a few who didn’t like the story itself too much—it just goes to show that it really was too challenging for some, and a Broadway transfer probably would’ve required “dumbing it down”, and such a compromise on the story’s integrity was something that Tori was very adamant about not being willing to make.

One of the main criticism, even in raving reviews, was that the music isn’t very memorable. How unfair to write off the labor of years in a sentence, just like that – after the second night, virtually half the songs would alternate getting stuck in my head for weeks to come, so for me it was quite the contrary of “bland”, although I’ll admit that none of the songs are perhaps quite catchy enough to stand out after just one viewing; the compositions are too complex and layered for that, which is a good thing in my book.

The prologue, which is quite lenghty and mostly spoken rather than sung by two characters (Piper and Llewelyn) standing at opposite ends of the stage, was supported by lovely animations (as is My Fairy-Story later on), before the curtain opened and the light, fairytale-like music rose into an amazing crescendo and what’s still one of my favorites from the whole musical, My Own Land. I’m just a sucker for big ensemble pieces with intricate choreographies, and this plot-furthering epic literally made my jaw drop the first time I saw it, and gave me goosebumps at every show I saw. The stage is “split” in two, with the Lagobellans and Sealanders alternating their parts, and the way Rosie floats is absolutely incredible—no wires for the most part, but black-clad acrobats bleeding into the background carrying her around. Queen Material is even longer and incredibly fun—Rosie’s sass shines through in the recording, but she delivers her lines with her entire body, and this one was just so delightful to see thanks to her relentless banter with Piper. Sealand Supremacy was one of my absolute favorite songs to see because I have a thing for military ensemble choreographies—and the minor characters of Llewellyn and the Falconer, who had some of my favorite voices, get to sing quite a lot on it. From a feminist perspective, the scene during Althea bothered me a lot the first time I saw it—I felt like Digby was forcing himself on her. Repeat viewings made me consider it more in light of Althea’s sexual awakening moment. Anyway, it’s visually stunning with lots of floating all the way to the stage rafters, and ribbons! I want to state for the record that I loved the fact that Lagobel’s Serjeant at Arms was a curvy black woman. The Solution drags a little as it’s repetitive when you listen to it and it’s not really a song, but rather a scene with some interspersed singing? But it provided some great comic relief and had the audience in stitches, despite the serious issues it touches on—drugs, anorexia, and a strained relationship between parent and child. Highness in the Sky was beautiful—it was the first song that really showcased Nick Hendrix’ voice, and there were colorful birds circling around him, which made for a stunning picture. For some reason, a handful of people in the audience found the “no H2O” line funny at all the performances I saw, and there was someone chuckling at it every time, without fail. It was really inappropriate as it’s a very dramatic scene that had me in tears by the end of it.

The second act opens with Amphibiava, which spawned the fandom hashtag #sexlake—the puppetry during this song is an absolute delight to watch. I love the “split stage”, and there’s a few instances of it in the second act as well, with the two kingdoms standing on opposing sides of the stage and the song halves complementing each other. I love when the actors get to play incensed, passionate moments, and there’s a few of those: Rosie’s voice at the end of Nothing More Than This soars in a way that just can’t translate to a studio recorded CD, and neither does Piper’s defiance of the king—you can’t see her hair coming undone, or the flying spit as she circles him, rebuking him for his actions. I hated the pregnancy storyline from the first time I saw it, and that’s something that hasn’t changed in five years; the concert performance cut that part, and it was so much better for it. Crash in the Universe was my visual highlight of the whole show, the entire scene is a long display of female badassery. The ladies do the fighting and dragon slaying, and the stage was at one point split horizontally by a long piece of floating cloth, with Althea on top of it—and Zephyrus tearing the Sealand king’s eyes out was pretty graphic for a family show! I don’t think there was a dry eye in the theater by the end of Tears, Rosie’s sobbing just rips your heart out. The hilarious feminist and lesbian shout-outs during the epilogue were delightful and surely the last drop for the Daily Mail reviewer. And then, of course, there’s Coronation, which is what Winter’s Carol became, and I can’t even begin to describe how perfect and gorgeous it is. It was the perfect soundtrack to the fairytale ending, and I had tears streaming down my face every night during it—to this day, I still can’t listen to it without crying.

The final verdict is that it was absolutely worth the long wait and journey to London—even A., who isn’t a Tori fan by any stretch of the imagination, really loved it, and I enjoyed it more every time I saw it. The puppeteers and acrobats were the real stars of the show next to Rosie, who hit every note perfectly even while hanging upside down. I’m still not ready to give up hope that it’ll be revived and transfer one day, because it certainly didn’t get the recognition it deserved; I consider it to be one of the peak achievements in Tori’s career.