You
may balk at the idea that a Broadway musical about the life of our Founding
Father and first Treasury Secretary, Alexander Hamilton, was one of the most
subversive and socially-aware projects to be released in 2015, but your
(understandable) shock would be unwarranted.
It is highly unlikely, as a matter
of fact, that you aren't at least slightly familiar with this project, “Hamilton:
An American Musical,”
already. That is unless you have the same reflex that I do to anything that
enjoys critical acclaim on a massive scale: ignore it because it probably isn't
even that great anyway.
Well, it is. It is that great. For all the
reasons that you would and wouldn't expect.
2015 was a year rife with
sociopolitical unrest and activism on a scale that arguably hadn't been
paralleled since the slew of Civil Rights movements that occurred over the span
of the 1960s all the way through to the 1990s. People are angry, needless to
say. As the killing and abuse of unarmed black people becomes commonplace; the
vilification of Latino immigrants becomes poll-topping rhetoric for
presidential candidates to capitalize on; and the demonization of
Muslim-Americans and Syrian refugees for the actions of a comparatively small
network of radical groups is being condoned by state governors across the
country, one clear issue is beginning to emerge. That is that the respect and dignity
granted to a person in this country is contingent upon their conformity with a
very narrow set of guidelines for the race, origin, language and religion of a
respectable person. The frustration surrounding this issue has been brewing for
decades and threatening to spill over; last year, it finally did.
Where in the world does “Hamilton” fit into this conversation?
Right at the forefront of it, actually. It is a story that, with surprisingly
few artistic liberties taken in regards to historical facts by its innovative
creator, Lin-Manuel Miranda, perfectly reflects the broad spectrum of cultures
that build and shape our country and the obstacles that said cultures are still
striving to overcome right now.
I would be remiss not to describe
how these cultures are represented. To begin with, the cast (the amazingly talented cast), is comprised entirely of black,
Latino and Asian people performers, a casting call that was opened only to
people of color – save, interestingly, for the role of none other than the
overbearing King George III, who can only be portrayed by a white actor.
Looking at the cast alone, you begin
to develop a sense of resonance with the nuanced concerns, desires and
struggles of these characters whose stories would otherwise feel totally
removed from ours by the centuries-long lapse in time. Their fights – securing freedom and liberty as a
people, then as a country, striving for financial stability and being able to
make a memorable mark in a new world – all throughout the Revolutionary War and
the early development of our country feel familiar because they are our fights,
as told by people who resemble the entirety of our population.
The line "Immigrants/ we get
the job done" in one of the songs off the official cast album is reportedly
met with a rousing applause during live performances because it serves as an affirmation of the
message that various organizations and activists have been tirelessly conveying
for years: this country would not be one of the most developed in the world
were it not for the thankless work of immigrants who came here with the hope of
making theirs and others' lives better. Thus, our lives do matter.
Hamilton, an immigrant himself from
an island in the West Indies, the Marquis de Lafayette, an immigrant from
France, and Baron Von Steuben, a German drill expert were each responsible not
only for our liberation from Britain but, in Hamilton's case, the almost
single-handed creator of our current economic and political structure.
By looking at our dynamic and
revolutionary past through the faces of our dynamic and revolutionary present,
we force those who are prejudiced against marginalized groups to see the sheer
impact that said groups have made and continue to make on our very foundation
and development.
Of course, the music deserves to be
mentioned, for it is yet another shock to the senses of the listening public.
Its genres are as diversified and trend-setting as our current sociopolitical
climate is: rapping, R&B, Britpop, chamber pop, ballads and any other
combination of genres I didn't even recognize, meld with references to
celebrated Broadway songs and 90s rap songs in a way that feels so unexpectedly
natural that it just feels right to listen to Hamilton belt out
Motown-style jams and listen to Washington evoke Jay-Z's aura in order to
convey the chaos of the Landing at Kip's Bay.
In blurring the lines between what's
old and new, the sense of a connection to our history and a deep sense of
significance as a result of it only stokes the flames of the fire fueling our
current social movements.
Movements charge on and we enter a
year where our most polarizing set of presidential candidates yet are set to
have one plucked from its pool to either work to our benefit or detriment as a
people. I can't help but be reminded of a phrase iterated throughout the play,
"History has its eyes on you." If the creative
resuscitation of Hamilton's
seemingly-dead story, the subsequent significance of “Hamilton” in our
culture both then and now and the parallels that we can draw between this story
and our current circumstances are any indication, history does in fact have its
eyes on us.