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Two years ago, armed with a brimming bucket of buttery popcorn clutched in one hand and the classic Cola ICEE in the other, I found myself enraptured by the enchantment unfolding on the cinema screen. Nestled comfortably in my seat at the AMC Boston Common 19, I absorbed Nicole Kidman’s eloquent monologue about the cinematic experience: “That indescribable feeling we get when the lights begin to dim and we embark on a journey to a place we’ve never been before.”
For the rest of the day, my thoughts were consumed by that specific AMC commercial. Although I typically remain impervious to the allure of profit-driven ad campaigns — or so I’d like to believe — this one managed to captivate me in a way that felt… distinct. In fact, I found myself revisiting it repeatedly online, drawn in by its undeniable charm and puzzling familiarity of the words stated.
However, a lingering unease persisted. While the commercial’s eloquence was undeniable, it still felt out of place. It dawned on me that the true context for the words spoken on screen did not lie adequately within the confines of a movie theater, but rather within the domain of live performances.
Every live performance unfolds uniquely, distinct from any that precede or follow. As someone who grew up as a performer — both a violist and dancer — I always felt at odds with this belief, constantly grappling with the pursuit of consistency. After all, prior to stepping foot on stage, artists dedicate countless unnoticed hours, diligently transforming their vulnerabilities into imperceptible strengths for their shining moment in the spotlight before a live audience.
It thereby became frustrating for me when a single unexpected ricochet of the bow transformed the outcome of Penderecki Cadenza for solo viola, introducing a seemingly novel interpretation of the piece. Likewise, a surge of profound concern coursed through me when a momentary slip on the stage led to an impromptu additional dance turn.
Yet, it did not take long for me to appreciate the inherent beauty that resided in the unique essence of every live performance. While artists may incessantly be entangled in the minutiae of every performance, the audience is there — as Kidman expressed in her AMC commercial — “to laugh, to cry, to care.”
Since joining The Crimson Arts Board my freshman fall, and especially over the past year as Campus Exec, I have been presented numerous opportunities to fully embrace my transition from performer to enthusiastic consumer. From the dazzling Broadway production of “& Juliet” to the grace of Boston Ballet’s “The Nutcracker” to night three of the simply put, out-of-this-world Eras Tour show in SoFi Stadium, I’ve been fortunate to be a witness to a diverse array of spectacular live performances. In those grand stadiums and theaters, I have felt more connected to myself and my emotions than ever before, riding the highs and lows that define the human experience.
All of this is just to say thank you. Thank you to all the artists both on and off stage that have made all the live performances I’ve watched this year to be so memorable. Thank you to all the press contacts I’ve emailed for gifting me and so many Crimson writers the opportunity to watch these shows. Thank you to all the audiences I’ve engaged with for laughing and crying along with me. And a special thank you to all the amazing performances I’ve seen this year: “& Juliet,” “Six,” “Harry Potter and The Cursed Child,” Circa’s “Sacre,” “Kimberly Akimbo,” Boston Ballet’s “The Nutcracker,” the Eras Tour, TwoSet Violin on their World Tour, Twice on their “Ready to Be” World Tour, Tate McRae on her 2023 “ARE WE FLYING TOUR,” the Parker Quartet with guest Richard O’Neill for the Blodgett Chamber Music Series, “Comfort and Joy: A Community Choral Concert,” and of course, my concert for Music 189R: “Chamber Music Performance.”
—Outgoing Campus Executive and incoming Arts Chair Allison S. Park will still be recovering this winter break from the brilliance of all the live performances she has watched this year. For burning recommendations or inquiries, she can be reached at allison.park@thecrimson.com or on X at @allisonskypark.
