Lena Horne: The Lady and Her Music

🎭 From the Orchestra to the Balcony: Lena Horne and the Magic of Live Performance

Let me tell you about the finest stage performance that lives rent-free in my memory: Lena Horne: The Lady and Her Music. I saw it twice—once from the orchestra, close enough to feel the shimmer of her gown, and once from the very last row of the balcony, where the air was thinner but the thrill just as rich. Both times, I was spellbound.

The year was 1981, and there was something electric about Lena’s presence. She didn’t just sing—she conversed, she confided, she conjured. Her rendition of “Stormy Weather” was the emotional center of the evening for me. Not just because it’s iconic, but because she sang it with the weight of history and the grace of survival. It wasn’t just a torch song—it was a torch passed.

I’ve seen a lot of performances over the years—Broadway blockbusters, scrappy storefront gems, experimental pieces that left me blinking in wonder. But Lena Horne’s show stands apart. What’s wild is that I went in knowing almost nothing about her. I’d barely heard her name. No nostalgia, no expectations—just a ticket and a seat. And yet, from the moment she stepped into the light, I knew I was witnessing something extraordinary. It was like discovering a legend in real time.

I share this not just to wax nostalgic (though I do that with gusto), but to invite you into the conversation. What’s your unforgettable stage performance? The one that made you lean forward, tear up, laugh too loudly, or whisper “wow” to no one in particular?

Reply to this newsletter or drop us a line at ericfitzgerald@curtain-up.com We’d love to feature your story in an upcoming issue. Let’s keep the ghost light burning—one memory at a time.