Hadestown: The Musical That Teaches Us About Show Development

The most exciting story unfolded in the writer's room.

After I sent out last week’s Substack announcing that Hadestown would be the next choice, I had four theatre-loving friends text me paragraphs advocating for their favorite version of the show. I quickly realized that there are three camps that Hadestown fans fall into — those who have seen and loved the Broadway hit, those who love Anaïs’ concept album, and a very specific subset of fans that will die over the 2016 New York Theatre Workshop production.

While I sought out to learn more about pop/musical theatre writing (Anaïs is certainly no rhyme purist) and sung-through structure, the secret finding of the week was in the way that the three Hadestown albums give us a behind-the-curtain view of what musical development looks like. What a privilege as an audience member to be able to see the author’s original intent through the concept album, a snapshot of development at NYTW, and where the show landed for the Broadway run. Since this week became a three-for-one, let me give you some context about both the show and its journey.

If you don’t know, now you know:

Hadestown is a retelling of the Greek myth of Orpheus and Eurydice. Orpheus is a songwriter/musician that falls for Eurydice, and after Eurydice follows Hades to the underworld, Orpheus tries to rescue his love. Orpheus convinces Hades to release Eurydice with his beautiful song, and Hades agrees under the condition that Orpheus must lead the way out, not looking behind to see if Eurydice is following. On the journey, doubt “creeps in” and Orpheus turns around, dooming Eurydice to a life in Hell forever.

The musical was birthed in 2006 when Anaïs premiered the show in Vermont. After a short tour, Anaïs released a concept album in 2010 in collaboration with Ani DiFranco, Justin Vernon, The Haden Triplets, and more. This album really cuts to the heart of Anaïs’ idea — more concept and poetry than plot, but with such lilting melodies and invigorating orchestrations that the listener falls in love with the piece naturally. When listening to this album, it is important to note that these are singers, not actors, and I think the unique vocal quality of all of these singers really benefits the album. (Bring more non-traditional voice types to the stage please!)

In 2012, Anaïs began to work with director Rachel Chavkin. Through this relationship and developmental workshops at New York Theatre Workshop, the show was heavily revised — the narrator of Hermes was introduced, stringing the show together and guiding the audience through the theatrical experience. In 2016, Hadestown had a full run at NYTW starring Damon Daunno, Nabiya Be, Amber Gray, Patrick Page, and Chris Sullivan.

(Here is where I need to tell you that I have been deeply obsessed with Damon Daunno since seeing him in the 2019 revival of Oklahoma, and that from here on out I acknowledge my bias toward this man and his beautiful, delicious, perfect singing.)

After NYTW, the show went to Canada and London before returning to New York City for a Broadway run. In this time, the show was revised further to include major rewrites to the character of Orpheus, to add an ensemble, and to knit together the storytelling structure to be airtight.

In a recent Zoom I attended with Maestra Music, Anaïs spoke about the revision process of Hadestown, saying that there was “team music” and “team drama,” and that while she was on “team music” and fought for poetic lyric and pop style, “team drama” was always looking out for the dramaturgy and storytelling efficacy. In listening to the three albums of Hadestown, it feels as though you can slowly watch “team drama” win. Whether this is an artistic win for the musical is a question of preference, and ultimately, it is proven that the storytelling in the Broadway musical was effective, with the show taking home 14 Tony awards.

As I break down the musical, I will be primarily focusing on the Broadway cast, but will be doing some comparing of the different versions. You may want all the albums handy. There’s 40 tracks and three albums, so my apologies in advance — brevity is not a honed skill of mine.

Caveats given, let’s dive in.

The breakdown:

ACT ONE:

Hadestown opens with “Road to Hell,” an ensemble-heavy song led by Hermes. A major tentpole of musical theatre storytelling is “showing” rather than “telling,” meaning that we want to see action unfold in front of us instead of being told about what is happening. The opening number of a musical is the exception to this rule, being the one time in which you can easily “tell” the audience about the setting, characters, and set up of the plot.

This song is a prime example, with Hermes introducing major players: the Fates, Persephone, Hades, Orpheus, and Eurydice. Though this song is uptempo and lively, Hermes sneaks in a line here, “It’s a sad song, it’s a tragedy! It’s a sad song, we’re gonna sing it anyway.” Later we will learn that this is the lesson of the show, and I always enjoy when the moral of the story is snuck into an opener.

While we’re still at the beginning, I must address Anaïs’ use of slant rhyme in all of these songs. (Slant rhyme, meaning imperfect rhyme, ie. girl and world, versus the perfect rhyme of girl and whirl.) In the songwriting Zoom, Anaïs admitted to being a frequent user of slant rhyme, claiming that you can tell when a slant rhyme lands on your ear in an interesting way or when it is a lazy choice, indicative of not being able to find the right word and settling for a rhyme that is less-than.

There are many slant rhymes in this show that I find interesting, and some that I find unsatisfying. In the same way that a director uses lighting to direct the audience’s focus, a lyricist uses rhyme to direct attention to important words. Lyricists can use this tool in a myriad of ways, through rhyming ends of lines together to create satisfying couplets, by setting up a rhyme scheme and then deviating from it, or by not rhyming at all. Slant rhyme is yet another tool in this box, and I am not of the opinion that it should never be used, although I am of the opinion that it should be used carefully.

“Road to Hell” is like all of the slant rhymes got together for tea. “Men” and “them,” “name and train,” “feet and me,” and of course the slant of all slants, “girl and world.” Many of these imperfect rhymes end stanzas or introduce characters, and while they probably don’t bother the average listener, I couldn’t help but feel that some of them might satisfy me more if they were “perfect.”

One example of Anaïs using a very effective perfect rhyme is in the opening stanza - “Don’t ask where brother, don’t ask when, it was the road to Hell, it was hard times, it was a world of gods, and men!” Call me old fashioned, but I love a good perfect rhyme.

Anyways, we’re moving along and off my soapbox into “Any Way The Wind Blows.” This song utilizes wonderful assonance between the “ooo” of the wind and Eurydice’s line “move to another town.” This is an example of something not perfectly rhyming but being really satisfying.

In the next track, “Come Home With Me,” Orpheus vies for Eurydice’s heart, and we get the most delicious wordplay of “lyre” and “liar.” In “Wedding Song,” we continue on the path of Orpheus and Eurydice’s love, with the couple dreaming of a life together and Orpheus promising to fix the world with his song. Orpheus sings the “La” motif for the first time, the final straw in wooing Eurydice. “Wedding Song” is actually the first track on Anaïs’ concept album, and the instrumentation of the song is wildly different. The vibes of the original song are impeccable, but you can see the Broadway version grow to be much more plot functional.

In “Epic I,” Orpheus shines. Five tracks in is the perfect time to give Orpheus a story song — a folk tale — and the scene/song that sets up this tune is wonderfully constructed, giving the audience the dramatic stakes and importance of Orpheus’ story about Persephone and Hades.

This song makes me want to play Orpheus.

Next comes “Living It Up On Top,” Persephone’s big intro track. This is a song that got some major rewrites for Broadway. The orchestrations change for the Broadway version, with the dance break being horn-dense and sounding straight out of New Orleans. At NYTW, the instrumental sections have a bit of horn, but have a much more folky feel.

Character wise, the song also took some major shifts. Orpheus at NYTW drips joy and charisma, giving us lines such as:

Come on! Say, brother, give me a lyre and a campfire
And an open field at night
Give me the sky that you can’t buy
Or sell at any price
And I’ll give you a song for free
‘Cause that’s how life oughta be!
So that’s how I’m livin' it!

These lines are cut in the final version, with Orpheus in the Broadway version being cut down to his ending speech, where he delivers the line, “let the world we dream of be the one we live in now.” (Great line, I’m glad it was kept, but I miss getting to see more of Orpheus.)

In the same vein, at NYTW, Damon’s Orpheus asks us to “raise our cups” to toast Persephone, and then gives us a flirty, “come on.” You can hear his wink, his playful nature. Reeve’s version on Broadway lacks this playful arrogance, and I feel certain it makes him more earnest, but I must say Damon’s version feels so delightfully lovable. NYTW workshop Orpheus is an Orpheus I would follow into (or out of) the underworld.

Did I mention that I’m biased toward Damon?

I never claimed to be a reliable narrator.

For the sake of your time and mine, I’m going to just tell you that “All I’ve Ever Known” is a great, simple love song. “Way Down Hadestown” continues our line of boppy sing-along tracks, accomplishing Persephone returning to the underworld “too soon.”

“A Gathering Storm” is one of my favorite tracks in act one, despite it only clocking in at 1:33. The wind motif returns, and in a show where I think some of the songs have more dramatic stakes than others, this song delivers the drama. The scene song between Orpheus and Eurydice is so well constructed, showing us the emotional gap between the couple created by Orpheus’ creative drive, and the way Hermes and Eurydice sing over each other in the final thirty seconds of this track is so, so delicious.

We now hear Orpheus working to finish his song in “Epic II.” If you only had time to listen to three songs from this musical, the Epics are my choice. Folk music was created to tell stories, and these songs are a perfect integration of the form of folk music and the form of musical theatre.

When “Chant” began, I wrote that this song is the cousin to “Look Down” from Les Mis. To be honest, the subplot of the industrial underworld and the oppressed workers didn’t quite land for me. I have to believe (or hope?) that this song is more captivating in person, but it didn’t land for me on the soundtrack. I do enjoy that it accomplishes forward motion for all the principal characters, but it’s not a song I’ll be coming back to listen to regularly.

In “Hey Little Songbird,” Hades convinces Eurydice to come to the underworld. This song is fine. Does what it needs to do (and in a musical, that is sometimes all you need!) I particularly like Eurydice’s section of this song, and it sets up “Flowers” perfectly.

What I found entertaining was that as I was listening to the next track, “When The Chips Are Down,” I found myself judging Eurydice’s choice. I thought, surely if I was her, I wouldn’t follow Hades.

As if on cue, the Fates scolded me!

There’s something lovely about the musical being ahead of the audience’s thoughts, and responding to how I am feeling in-time. Wonderful writing.

Eurydice seals her fate, singing “Gone, I’m Gone,” which leads us to the best song of the musical. I know I said earlier that the Epics were the best part, but “Wait For Me” may top it. This song certainly has the best hook, giving you a melody to haunt you after the curtain drops. Storytelling-wise, the song is also perfectly constructed with the Hermes/Orpheus book scene intro, giving Orpheus the character drive needed to spur us to the end of act.

Honorable mention to the rhymes found in “Around the back, but that ain’t easy walking Jack.” and “How to get to Hadestown, you have to take the long way round, through the underground, under cover of night, laying low, staying out of sight.” So many yummy perfect rhymes, and I don’t even mind the imperfect rhyme of “Hadestown” and “round.” It works here!

The Hermes sections of this song really make it, and while Hermes wasn’t the narrator on Anaïs’ original album, this song really has been kept intact from the get. This song makes me believe in musical theatre. It is hype, it is drama, it is catchy, it is a promise to the audience of conflict and stakes. I also think that the addition of the ensemble for the Broadway version is positively felt here, with the ensemble singing really adding to the epic nature of the piece.

It’s interesting to me is that “Wait For Me” isn’t the act one closer, and that Hades ends up with the final word of act one. I need to read Anaïs’ book to learn more of why she chose this for the structure, because “Wait For Me” really feels like the “Defying Gravity” of this musical, and instinctively I wanted the curtain to drop here.

Yet the musical keeps going, plunging into “Why We Build The Wall,” which I have very little comment on — I think I just felt like the story of the act was over, so I emotionally checked out a bit.

ACT TWO (Look, we’re making such progress, have a cookie, go refill your water)

Act two opens with “Our Lady of The Underground,” Persephone’s second big number. As I mentioned last week, the act two opener can lack plot functionality, but this song pushed it for me. At this point, I have not heard from Orpheus in too long, and I miss him.

The track “Way Down Hadestown (Reprise)” faded into the background for me, especially when compared to the subsequent song, “Flowers.” “Flowers” was a track I knew going into this, but wow, this song is so much better in context. Eva Noblezada’s voice always packs a punch, but I love her here so much.

Just as Eurydice is at her breaking point, Orpheus arrives. I laughed at Orpheus’ entrance in “Come Home With Me (Reprise)” because “Wait For Me” promises such a tale of struggle in his travel, only for him to disappear for five tracks and then magically arrive.

Anticlimactic.

I feel the show sags a bit here with “Papers,” and “Nothing Changes.” This is a primary example, however, of songs that I think play better in person than on the soundtrack. While these aren’t tracks I’ll be revisiting on the album, I know these tracks are plot functional and serve “team drama.” While I skip them on the album, I don’t believe they should be cut from the show.

“If It’s True” on Broadway became a song that was far more centered on Orpheus rallying the workers of the underworld to stand up to the “big man,” asserting that things that have always been do not always need to be. Conversely, at NYTW, Orpheus spends this song chastising himself for losing Eurydice, singing:

Take my mouth that kissed her mouth
Take my tongue that sung her praise
Take my arms that used to reach out
In the dark to where she lay
If it’s true what they say
I’ll be on my way

Take this voice, take these hands
I can’t use them anyway
Take this music and the memory
Of the muse from which it came

Orpheus’ lament at NYTW triggers Persephone to go talk to Hades and convince him to let Orpheus and Eurydice leave, making it a far more emotional act on Orpheus and Persephone’s part instead of making this song serve the political revolution. I’m just not sure what the political undertones of the show are doing. Please let me know your opinions.

Regardless of the unfolding of “If It’s True,” we now go into “How Long,” a personal standout of act two for me. In a show of metaphor, poetry, and myth, this song is a character with a want, some tactics, and a scene partner. Thank goodness.

Persephone’s plea to Hades works, leading us into “Chant (Reprise)” and furthermore, “Epic III.” The third Epic also got major rewrites before Broadway, and I have to say that I am dying to know why this song got such major rewrites. The poetry of Epic III at NYTW is beautiful. For Broadway, it became much more straight-forward and less poetically dense (specifically in the front half). I am very glad the ending was kept largely intact, because everything between “and what has become of the heart of the man” and the end is genius.

My final hill to die on regarding rhyme is the stanza:

Where is the treasure inside of your chest
Where is your pleasure, where is your youth
where is the man with his arms outstretched
to the woman he loves with nothing to lose

I actually love the slant rhyme of chest/outstretched, because the word “outstretched” is about reaching, so Orpheus reaching for this rhyme is so interesting!! “Youth” and “lose,” however, makes me frown a little at the edges. It sort of feels like when you put a puzzle piece in, but it’s just not quite right.

(Also, if you’re annoyed with my fixation on rhyme, why did you choose to read a lyricist’s Substack?)

After “Epic III,” we tumble to the end through “Promises,” “Word to The Wise,” “His Kiss, The Riot, and “Wait For Me (Reprise).” The ending truly arrives in “Doubt Comes In,” where Orpheus attempts to lead Eurydice out of Hell before failing, looking back to see if she is following him.

Of all of the rewrites for Broadway, this song has my favorite. At NYTW, Orpheus turns back to see Eurydice, and we hear a gasp that ends the track, plunging us into the final number. Totally fine, completely accomplishes the needs of the moment.

HOWEVER.

In the Broadway version, there are 4 additional, heartbreaking lines.

ORPHEUS: It’s you.

EURYDICE: It’s me. Orpheus.

ORPHEUS: Eurydice.

This tiny moment of connection before being ripped apart guts me. Also the rhyme of “me” and “Eurydice.” It just snaps me into the moment with them, I feel the pain, I feel the thickness of the air, I am in the room with them, I am here for their loss. I buy it so wholeheartedly.

NYTW closes with “Road to Hell (Reprise),” while Broadway still has two tracks left. Regardless of this, both versions include Hermes telling us the final lesson of the show:

Here’s the thing, to know how it ends and still begin to sing it again
as if it might turn out this time, I learned that from a friend of mine.

This line is why the story matters — to love and to live is to lose, and despite this, we persist in loving and losing. A beautiful lesson to close the show.

I will say that I think the Broadway version could have ended here just as effectively, if not more so than it did. The final number of the Broadway show is “We Raise Our Cups,” a Persephone-heavy song. In the same way that I thought it was interesting that Hades got the final word of act one, I am curious why Persephone gets the last word of the show. Orpheus is the hero, and Hermes is the narrator - it just feels like it should end with them.

Some parting wisdom:

All that being said, my week spent with Hadestown taught me a lot. I didn’t expect to listen to three albums, and I certainly did not expect to spend my week having an existential crisis over the revision process of musicals and how things can become gradually more commercialized and stray from the original thought as they get closer and closer to Broadway. In listening to Anaïs’ original album, it’s wild to see how much the sound changed, pivoting away from Vermont folk and into a rich, jazzy texture.

I am left with more questions than answers about why the rewrites happened, and I long now to see the show onstage. I would sell my right big toe to go back and see Damon’s Orpheus at NYTW.

More than anything, I am grateful to Anaïs for putting her revision process on the internet for us all to see. As a writer, it is a gift to have the curtain peeled back and to be able to see a glimpse into the writing process of a hit Broadway show — how it was clarified and refined over time, and how maintained or departed from the original intent. All of the versions of Hadestown hold up, and it is a privilege to be able to choose a favorite.

I believe I am now due to read Anaïs’ book, Working On A Song. Perhaps a bonus Substack is coming at some point?

Speaking of more Substack content:

Next week we dive into another cultural icon. To 1990’s New York City, it’s time to listen to Jonathan Larson’s Rent.

See you next week!