Our reverence for regency and the stage
On one era’s influence 200 years later and an art form that far predates it: live performance.
The regency-era theatrical event was produced by Buzz Music Theater. Read a synopsis of the show from Cherry and Spoon here.
INT. THE HIVE COLLABORATIVE - NIGHT
If I told you that Ancient Athens and the 1789 French Revolution are the likely reason I am at a Jane Austen concept album performance tonight, would you stick around while I attempt to explain why?
Walk with me.
I’m sitting in the Hive Collaborative tonight to see Monica Livorsi perform her Jane Austen concept album, All About Jane, live on this stage. The performance is entitled Eras of Austen. This is a new space for artists to perform events, but by the time you’re reading this, a few seasons will have passed and they will have a full roster of events lined up.
Fresh off the sting of not getting Eras Tour tickets, I’ve been trying to get my hands on anything that reminds me of Taylor Swift’s work. After recently attending and loving a live candlelight quartet tribute to her music, I’ve been seeing art inspired by her everywhere I turn.
It’s no surprise then that when I saw an announcement on Instagram that Monica’s Eras of Austen performance would feature each of Jane Austen’s works as “eras”, with a final era dedicated to Monica herself, the similarities between that concept and Miss Swift’s current tour pulled me in. Once I learned more about Monica’s spin on Austen’s classic works, I was hooked and purchased a ticket for the closing show of the weekend.
Sitting here now at the Hive, I’m surrounded by tapestries, tea, thematic seating, and the dark glow of the house lights. I’m happy to be here.
My mind is wandering as I settle into my seat. Monica is putting a unique and original twist on Jane Austen’s work in her All About Jane album, and it has me thinking about one of Mark Twain’s more well-known quotes. “There is no such thing as a new idea.” Rather, he understood that the beauty of our human creativity lies in our ability to build off of what surrounds us. With our personal twist and added perspective, we create new experiences and works of art that feel— and therefore, are —new.
We are then constantly altering the world around us and how others in turn react to it.
No inventions or imagined works really exist on their own. We are always inspired by something, which came to be thanks to something else.
An endless cycle of inspiration.
In other words, not even the greatest thinkers or artists or scientists of documented history simply fell out of coconut trees. Each were the products of their time, environment, experiences, personal and collective histories, and personalities.
This is actually a beautiful and freeing thought. As Stephen Shapiro put it:
What if there is nothing new under the sun? Would this give you freedom? Would this help you overcome the internal obstacles that stop you from bringing your ideas to the world?
Take, for example, regency, or the “Regency Era”. A specific period of history in just one corner of the world still triggers images of refinement and gowns and passionate stories of love and heartbreak in our minds today. Such a defining era still did not exist in vacuum though, did it?
It was predated by centuries of consequential periods that informed its then-present-day social and class cultures. It also existed, for a time, in parallel with Romanticism— a movement-turned-era associated with the minds of people whose names we still recognize today: Emily Brontë, Emily Dickinson… Jane Austen.
The powers that brought the Regency Period to life were themselves the product of reinvention and societal changes. Regency’s tango with Romanticism also left it forever changed.
Jane Austen herself, and her lasting impact, allow us to see Mark Twain’s intended meaning play out even further.
Her work was informed by her surroundings at the time, which were constructed by larger powers and forces over decades and centuries. Her unique perspective and commentary was infused into her works, however, and from her brilliance came new art and works that have now transcended time.
Many proper catalogues of her work’s influence exist elsewhere, but a quick hit list is still impressive enough: Several present-day colleges now have courses on her writings, her novels have remained in print for 200 years, and her works have been made into countless film, television, and theater adaptations.
How is that not the perfect example of Mark Twain’s point at work?
Tonight, I’m sitting down in this victorian-era chair with a cup of tea ready to watch Monica perform each of Austen’s 6 published works as an “era” and walking us through the book characters who inspired her music for each section.
I think about the twists and turns in culture and the greater world between Jane Austen’s pen first meeting paper and Monica’s mind first crafting this album. Both of them original, both of them inspired.
Monica Livorsi’s audience experience and stage setup at the live performance of her Jane Austen concept album, All About Jane.
To my right is a young woman dressed for the era, giddily awaiting the show to start. To my left is an elderly man enthralled in the on-theme program for tonight’s production. Looking around, there are a lot of people here alone, but you wouldn’t know it by the sound of the space.
People are shaking hands, and some are greeting friends they didn’t know would be in attendance. Happy audience members and dim house lights surround me. I’m smiling.
Simple as it may sound, this is just a taste of the magic of theater. This is the tip of the live performance iceberg— this unexplainable joy you can’t help but feel before witnessing a live theatrical production of any kind.
The house lights are going down now, and Monica is about to take the stage.
We put down our teas and get up from our period-piece chairs to applaud her as she enters, and we will do it again when she exits.
My mind wanders once more, wondering if there are other invisible strings at work here, too. Did the first crowds in ancient Athens give standing ovations, like we are doing now? 3,500 years ago in India, did someone giggle with the person sitting next to them about how excited they were to see the show, just like me and my seat neighbors are doing?
There must be similarities between those first theatrical performances and this one. If Mr. Twain were here, at least we know he’d agree.
Monica’s show went on to be a hit, and her album release later on would be even sweeter for me as a new fan having witnessed it live. Never leaving us without entertainment, she had used her interludes in her live show to share context into the source material. If anyone in the audience was either new to Jane’s books or a little rusty on storylines, they were as included in the joy as seasoned Austen vets.
Her creativity shined in every facet of the performance. From her wardrobe choices to her summations of the books in her music, Monica had the audience captivated, evoking every human feeling throughout the arcs of her album.
After the show and its deserved standing-O, the room came alive again with that energy that can only come from just having witnessed a captivating and unique performance.
The crisp night air outside made for the perfect overflow as audience members spilled out the doors, still singing catchy tunes from the show.
Walking to my car I thought about the connection points of ideas and influence throughout history that led to all of us in that room coming together tonight.
Forever the dramatic, I know.
Without live performance’s origins and influences over millennia, what would entertainment look like today?
Without the French Revolution in the 18th Century and Napoleon’s ascent, would English society have developed in the way and pace it did without such competition?
Would Jane’s work have been different, or even ceased to exist?
After tonight, did someone in the audience finally get a burst of inspiration to complete their own project?
Driving home, I hummed Monica’s music. Something about the melody changed in my hum, and I heard a new line of music begin to form in my head. This would be perfect for the musical I’m writing, I thought to myself. When I got home, I hummed the new tune into a voice note for safe keeping.
What I didn’t know yet but would come to learn in the following months was that Monica’s project— her new, unique work of art —really would stick with me. I’d think about it often, and every time I heard Jane Austen’s name.
Live performance is funny this way. It gets into your bones.
It alters you, and the cycle of inspiration continues.