Set in late 19th-century Germany, Spring Awakening explores the struggles of adolescents coming of age in a repressive society. Forbidden from asking questions or seeking guidance, they are left to navigate desire, identity, and fear alone. Through contemporary rock music and minimalist staging, the musical reimagines Frank Wedekind’s controversial 1891 play, emphasizing timeless themes of generational disconnect, shame, and the longing for understanding.

I attended Spring Awakening during its original Broadway run in 2007, with Jonathan Groff as Melchior and Lea Michele as Wendla. It had been highly recommended by a colleague who had worked in New York, and our small group went together. What struck me first was the stark, minimal stage with only a few chairs and the surprising presence of on-stage seating. Lea Michele, in sleepwear, opened the show with “Mama Who Bore Me,” and from her very first note, I was stunned. Her clean, vibrato-free voice was the first I ever truly fell in love with in musical theater.

The rest of the cast brought equal intensity — especially Moritz, who quickly became a crowd favorite with his wild hair and frantic energy. “The Bitch of Living” was revelatory: full of wit, frustration, and perfectly layered rock harmonies that brought out each character’s individuality. The choreography was cleverly restrained, often involving only slight gestures or chair movement, yet it emphasized the emotional charge.

The musical didn't shy away from tough topics. Moritz’s downward spiral, the unexpected sexual encounter between Melchior and Wendla, and the fatal consequences of an illegal abortion were all portrayed with blunt honesty. Lea Michele’s rendition of “Whispering” captured Wendla’s fragile yet luminous voice in the aftermath — one of the most memorable musical moments I’ve experienced.

The finale, “Those You’ve Known,” was devastating and cathartic. Ghostly returns of Wendla and Moritz offered Melchior comfort, encouraging him to move forward. The entire ensemble returned for a final number that carried both sorrow and hope — and I remember thinking just how beautiful Jonathan Groff’s voice was.

After the show, our group went to a nearby pub, filled with emotions and discussion. I, however, remained silent for much of the evening. I had just met musical theater at its most raw and powerful — and had been struck by a lightning bolt named Lea Michele.