Moonchildren

Greek choruses, triple threats, renaissance men, and moonchildren.

My friend Alyssa and her boyfriend Charlie were chorus members in an opera that Charlie’s older brother, Christopher, single-handedly wrote and starred in, called Moonchildren. So I popped over to the Quaker church that it was being performed in and took my place in the first pew, claiming the best seat in the house.

The opera itself dealt with what it means to be a free-spirit and a love of theater and art. I was sold. Charlie and Christopher weren’t the only members of their family in the show, as their sister Sienna also sang and played music. Her character was a drifter who represented the free-spirit side of the debate, urging those around her to live their lives to the fullest.

Before the show started I was asked if I wanted a hat. I sure did.

I sat in the front row wearing my bowler hat as I waited for the show to begin and suddenly worried, but also hoped, that I might get picked out of the crowd as the wearer of the hat.

I didn’t get picked out of the crowd, but my friends and the other cast members got up and close and personal as they shuffled around the stage, acting as the Greek chorus in the show.

It was clear that everyone involved in the project was immensely talented. One minute I’m watching a girl, playing the moon, belt it, and then in the next, I’m watching her bust out her cello and play along. When that’s not happening, Christopher is wailing on the piano, playing the music that he composed.

Christopher, as well as writing it, starring in it, singing, and playing the piano throughout, painted the artwork that made up the set, placing him truly in renaissance man status.

Between the art, the music, and costumes, the whole show had a frenetic energy to it. It made you leave the opera feeling like you could accomplish any artistic pursuit in the world. We all tossed our hats on stage at the end of the show, a fabulous touch that really sold the point of being wild and free.

Once the show was done, a group of us went to get pierogies at Veselka. Being Polish, I grew up making and eating pierogies with my grandmother, a former Miss Polonia pageant winner. I got an assortment of beef, cheese, and braised pork pierogies and can only recommend that everyone else in the world do the same.

*My grandmother, winning a beauty pageant for Polish-American women*

It had been a nice, joyous way to spend the evening. The music was sweet, the talent was real, and the opera made you feel like perhaps you do want to be a hedonistic, free-spirited artist type because it hardly seems like anything else can be more important.