Revisiting Broadway Magic: My First Encounter with The Phantom of the Opera

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Sometimes, life gives us moments so vivid, so exhilarating, they feel like they’re etched into the fabric of our very being. Today, I’m taking a trip back to one of those unforgettable moments: my very first time seeing The Phantom of the Opera on Broadway. It’s a story I’ve touched on before, but as I revisit old memories, I’m breathing new life into them, adding details that time has graciously revealed and reflecting on the experience from both the lens of wide-eyed youth and the perspective I’ve gained in the years since.

But first, let me give you a little insight into my journey with this spectacular show. Since that day in September 1992, I've seen The Phantom of the Opera over 100 times—a milestone I still can't quite believe myself! The enchanting music, the hauntingly beautiful set and the raw emotion of the performances kept drawing me back, like a moth to a flame. Over the years, I’ve had the honor of watching 26 or 27 incredible women bring Christine to life on stage. Each one brought something unique to the role and I’ll be sharing my thoughts on every one of them in future posts. But today, it’s all about the beginning—the memory that started it all.

When I stepped into New York City in 1992, I was already a devoted fan of the show’s music, thanks to the Original London Cast recording, which had practically been on repeat for months. Back then, in my mind, I couldn’t separate the voices on the cast album from the show itself. I’d envisioned seeing Michael Crawford and Sarah Brightman on stage, as if their performances were an eternal part of the show’s essence. Of course, reality quickly reminded me that casts change and the Broadway stage is a living, breathing force that evolves with time. By the time I arrived, Michael Crawford had already left the Broadway company and Mark Jacoby—the sixth full time Phantom to grace Broadway—had taken up the iconic mask. Karen Culliver, whose voice I’d soon fall in love with, was captivating audiences as Christine. Even Hugh Panaro, a future Phantom in his own right, was playing the role of Raoul.

The excitement was palpable. My friend Al, an amazing and thoughtful companion, had secured tickets for a matinee performance—a day I’d been eagerly counting down to. But, as fate would have it, my other friend Sergio kept me out all night at an after-hours club, leaving me thoroughly sleep-deprived. Still, there was no way I was missing this show. Bleary-eyed but thrilled, I made my way to the theater, ready to soak in the magic.

Looking back now, that day is a kaleidoscope of emotions—my first taste of Broadway grandeur, the melodies that tugged at my soul and the sheer joy of witnessing such talent live on stage. It’s a memory I hold close to my heart, not just for what it was, but for what it ignited: a lifelong love affair with musical theater.

Stay tuned, because this is just the beginning. I’ll be sharing more stories, diving into the performances that stood out, the casts that amazed and even my experiences with other iconic Broadway productions. But for now, I hope this glimpse into the August 1992 performance will paint a picture of the magic that began it all for me.

Prologue
The auction scene began with a resounding strike of the gavel, immediately commanding attention as the auctioneer declared, “Sold!” The lights rose to reveal an eager crowd bidding on relics from the opera house’s storied past. Among them was an elderly man in a wheelchair, who quietly sang to a mesmerizing Monkey in Persian Robes music box. The intricate creation came to life, rhythmically clashing its tiny cymbals, adding an eerie charm to the moment. When Lot 666 was unveiled—a majestic chandelier that burst to life with flashes of light—the theater seemed to pulsate with energy. Tears welled in my eyes, and a shiver ran down my spine. I was completely overwhelmed by the realization: I was finally here, witnessing in person the spectacle I had dreamed about for so long.

Overture
The overture swept through the theater, rich and full, just as I had heard it countless times on the cast album. It was every bit as magnificent as I had imagined, and yet the live experience made it feel even more powerful. As the iconic chandelier began its ascent, the stage scenery also began to come to life. Drop cloths were dramatically pulled away, unveiling the breathtaking proscenium adorned with shimmering golden figures. The sight was so stunning it almost felt like stepping into another world. When the chandelier reached its full height, casting its glow over the audience, the overture reached its dramatic climax before tapering off. And then, there she was—Carlotta, portrayed by the brilliant Marilyn Caskey—standing center stage, poised and ready to dazzle us with her commanding presence.
Marilyn Caskey & Gary Rideout

Hannibal/Think of Me
Marilyn Caskey’s portrayal of Carlotta was a refreshing departure from the bold and brassy soprano stylings of Rosemary Ashe on the London Cast recording. While Caskey’s interpretation had a different quality, she was far from lacking; in fact, she was absolutely incredible, effortlessly tackling the high notes in the opening. I dare say her performance was even more intriguing to my ears than that of the actress on the cast album. Her comedic timing in the Hannibal scene was flawless, particularly during her interactions with Piangi, played by the brilliant Gary Rideout. Together, their chemistry was nothing short of magical, enhancing every moment they shared on stage.
Karen Culliver

Carlotta’s rendition of Think of Me caught me slightly off guard—not only were the lyrics different from what I knew from the cast album, but the song itself was a bit longer. Still, it was a delightful surprise. Later in the scene, when the backdrop narrowly missed Carlotta, Caskey delivered a show-stopping "meltdown" that had the entire audience in stitches, myself included, until her dramatic exit from the stage.

Then there was Karen Culliver as Christine—an absolute revelation. Her voice carried a youthful strength that I found even more compelling than Sarah Brightman’s. Her rendition of Think of Me was nothing short of perfection and those rewritten lyrics? I actually preferred them to the original. Throughout the scene, I was completely transfixed; not only was Culliver's voice stunning, but her stage presence radiated such beauty and charisma, it was impossible to look away.
Hugh Panaro as Raoul

Hugh Panaro as Raoul also stood out as a highlight of the performance. His voice, though higher in tone than Steve Barton’s from the original cast recording, was beautifully clear and felt perfectly suited to the role. It brought a fresh take to the character without ever being jarring. Many years later when he rejoined the cast as The Phantom, I had reservations regarding his voice but he's got a voice of gold that can fit into many roles.

Angel of Music
Leila Martin’s Madame Giry exuded a subtle air of foreboding, her presence tinged with the authority of an older elementary school teacher—one who didn’t just expect respect but commanded it. Whether she spoke or sang, her performance demanded and held your undivided attention. The role seemed almost tailor-made for her, though perhaps her nearly five years of experience in the part had honed her portrayal to perfection.

Christine’s dressing room was charmingly minimalist—just a small space adorned with a mirrored vanity and a large mirror facing the audience, positioned next to the door. There was undeniable chemistry between Karen Culliver as Christine and Catherine Ulissey as Meg, they felt like lifelong friends, their bond effortlessly believable. Catherine’s vocals were perfectly suitable for the role, but it was clear her real strength lay in her dancing—a skill well-suited to Meg, whose character is, after all, primarily a dancer rather than a singer.

As the scene unfolded, I began to truly appreciate Karen’s immense talent. Her acting ability was every bit as impressive as her singing, perhaps even surpassing it. She didn’t just confide in Meg about the Angel of Music; she confided in every single member of the audience, drawing us into her world with remarkable authenticity and grace.

Little Lotte/The Mirror
Hugh Panaro's portrayal of Raoul in the Little Lotte scene was nothing short of captivating. His effortless charm could make anyone swoon, leaving you to wonder why Christine didn’t simply run off with him and call it a day. But, of course, had she done that, the story’s hauntingly beautiful unraveling would cease to exist.

And then came the moment that truly defined the Phantom’s presence—the moment when Mark Jacoby’s voice filled the theater. Though we’d been offered a taste of his haunting vocals earlier, this was the moment where his talent truly shined and Jacoby made his mark. He wasn’t a Michael Crawford replica—far from it. He brought his own powerful essence to the role, wielding his voice with mesmerizing control. Every syllable and note carried a dramatic intensity, simultaneously startling and enchanting the audience.

The scene climaxed with the iconic mirror opening, revealing the path Christine was destined to take. As she stepped through, beginning her journey with the Phantom, there was an undeniable finality to the moment. You knew there was no turning back—for Christine or for yourself. From then on, you were locked into the story until the very last note.

The Phantom of the Opera
This iconic scene, the very heartbeat of the show, was nothing short of mesmerizing. Although the vocals were pre-recorded, it didn’t matter in the slightest—the magic was all-encompassing. The haunting melody, driven by the deep, resonant sound of the bass guitar, synthesizer and drums, created a soundscape that was utterly entrancing. Mark Jacoby and Karen Culliver’s stellar vocals soared through the theater, perfectly synchronized with the stunning visuals unfolding on stage. The boat gliding across the misty lake, illuminated by an ethereal blue glow, swirling smoke that curled like whispers of mystery and candles rising gracefully from beneath the stage—all of this transformed the space into an almost dreamlike dimension. As the scenery moved seamlessly into place, the audience was swept away, fully immersed in the captivating world being created before their eyes. It was, quite simply, an unforgettable theatrical experience. This was also still at a time when the audiences applauded when the boat came into view. Somewhere along the way, this stopped, except during special milestone performances.
Mark Jacoby

The Music of the Night
Though undeniably a classic in musical theater and a staple in any collection of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s work, The Music of the Night has always been my least favorite song from the show. It’s hard to pinpoint why; perhaps its familiarity overshadows its intrigue. Nevertheless, Mark Jacoby's commanding voice breathed new life into the tune, cutting through the melody with effortless precision and carrying the audience along with him. His performance was magnetic and left everyone wanting more, even from a song that wasn’t as personally thrilling to me.

I Remember/Stranger Than You Dreamt It
This scene was undoubtedly an emotional turning point in the show—a moment of raw vulnerability and intense drama. Christine’s curiosity led her to the brink as she removed the Phantom’s mask, an act of wonder and fascination that unleashed a whirlwind of tension. In that instant, it was clear she had picked the wrong man to provoke. Mark Jacoby's commanding voice and Karen Culliver’s emotionally charged acting reached their peak, creating an electrifying interplay that held the audience spellbound. The Phantom’s mood swung with a startling ferocity, dragging himself across the stage in a storm of emotion. And yet, as Christine returned his mask, a quiet shift took place. The rage dissolved almost as quickly as it had erupted and in its place, a rare glimpse of humanity emerged. Christine’s expression of pity and the Phantom’s realization that she might be the one person willing to see him as more than a monster offered a poignant moment of connection. It wasn’t just about an overprotective, tortured genius anymore—it was about something deeper. For a fleeting moment, the audience glimpsed the delicate thread of hope beneath the Phantom’s anguish.

Magical Lasso/Notes/Prima Donna
In later years of my Phantom fandom, these scenes sometimes became my go-to restroom break moments. However, during those early days, I wouldn’t dare miss a single second. The Magical Lasso scene, though brief, packed a punch thanks to Leila Martin’s captivating Madame Giry. Her ominous warning to Buquet and the ballet girls about The Phantom was chilling and commanding, delivered with a perfect balance of fear and authority. The scene transitioned swiftly into the manager’s office, where Andre, portrayed by Jeff Keller, and Firmin, played by George Lee Andrews, grappled with The Phantom’s ominous notes. Each ensemble member made their entrance with their own letter, weaving together a narrative of The Phantom’s obsession with Christine, his disdain for both Raoul and Carlotta and his fury at the managers’ decision to cut off his monthly allowance.

The comedic timing in this scene was nothing short of brilliant. George Lee Andrews, Jeff Keller and Marilyn Caskey led the charge, their performances brimming with humor while still preserving the underlying tension. Their vocal chemistry, along with the talents of Gary Rideout, Hugh Panaro, Catherine Ullissey and Leila Martin, added richness to this ensemble number. Marilyn Caskey stood out once again, delivering a breathtaking final note at the end of Prima Donna. Her commanding presence and vocal prowess were a powerful reminder of why she was the diva of the opera house—at least, until The Phantom decided Christine would take her place.

Poor Fool, He Makes Me Laugh
Marilyn Caskey and the ensemble delivered an impeccable performance in this scene, bringing every detail to life with perfect precision. Caskey’s portrayal of Carlotta shone brilliantly and her hilarious croaks after the Phantom confronted her for calling Christine a "Little Toad" were nothing short of unforgettable. The timing, the delivery and the sheer absurdity of it all made her croaks possibly the best I’ve ever witnessed.

Why Have You Brought Me Here?/Raoul, I’ve Been There/All I Ask of You
This scene unfolded like a dream, a moment delicately balanced between reality and fantasy. The rooftop setting was so immersive that it felt as though you were truly perched high above the city at night—complete with the stillness of the evening, though thankfully without the gusty winds that would have accompanied such heights. The combination of Hugh Panaro and Karen Culliver’s performances brought an air of authenticity to the grandeur and romance of the moment. Their chemistry really did feel real and their incredible acting made the emotions between Raoul and Christine feel completely genuine, as if you were witnessing an intimate exchange rather than a staged performance.
Hugh Panaro & Karen Culliver

While I’d love to recount more details, I must admit that my exhaustion from the night before caught up with me during this scene. In those moments of dreamlike storytelling, my sleep-deprived self may have drifted off slightly, but the impression left behind was one of beauty and enchantment.

All I Ask of You (I Gave You My Music)
While I might have drifted off for a moment earlier, the instant the angel statue began to descend, revealing The Phantom within it, I was jolted wide awake. Mark Jacoby’s beautiful and commanding voice, delivered with a quiet but powerful intensity, captivated me completely. Despite his restrained vocal approach in this scene, every note seemed to carry weight and emotion. Having studied the libretto from my copy of the London Cast Recording, I knew exactly what was coming next and anticipation built within me. As the angel statue rose back into place, the moment arrived—the iconic chandelier didn’t just lower; it plummeted with dramatic force over the audience, swinging toward Christine on stage with breathtaking precision. The spectacle exceeded every expectation I had, leaving me awestruck.

In that instant, a bittersweet realization washed over me. I was halfway through the performance I had dreamed of experiencing for so long. While I was eager to see the rest unfold, part of me longed for a rewind button—to relive every magical moment of the first act before continuing. The beauty and grandeur of the scene lingered in my mind, setting the stage for the unforgettable second half.

At intermission, my friend Al surprised me with a souvenir program—the original white one with the elegant red tassel—and a margarita from the bar in the lobby. In hindsight, indulging in a margarita might not have been the best idea given how tired I was, but who could resist such a treat in the theater of my favorite musical? The margarita was delicious and the entire ambiance added to the magic of the experience.

When we returned to our seats, I found myself captivated by the conversations unfolding around us. Members of the audience were enthusiastically comparing the actors on stage to their counterparts from the cast recording, as well as other productions and cast lineups they had seen in the past. I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of envy as some mentioned having witnessed the original cast in London or on Broadway. That was a dream I would never fulfill without a time machine, but despite my quiet jealousy, gratitude won out. I was here, in this theater, witnessing the incredible talent of the current cast. It felt like a privilege to experience their unique interpretations and bring my long-held dream to life.

Entr’acte
And so, act two began. After what felt like the longest 15 minutes ever—otherwise known as intermission—I was more than ready to dive back into the magic of the show.

Masquerade/Why So Silent
George Lee Andrews and Jeff Keller opened the act before the iconic staircase was revealed as the curtains rose, along with the most colorful set of costumes on a massive ensemble of actors, and also some mannequins that many of us didn't realize weren't actual people. There was also the whimsical monkey girl with cymbals, just like the music box from the prologue and it was even more magical than I thought it could ever get. As the party in the scene was at full force, The Phantom made his entrance, in his dramatic “Red Death” costume with the score of the "Opera" he had just completed. When Mark threw the score to the managers, I actually wondered how many times did one of the actors not catch the book since the show had debuted on Broadway, to this day I wonder though I not once witnessed it not being caught in any of the performances I'd witnessed. The moment The Phantom snatches Christine’s necklace and declares, “Your chains are still mine, you will sing for me” I must have blinked, slowly, because I didn't understand how he disappeared and reappeared in another part of the stage as quickly as he did.

Notes/Twisted Every Way
Back in the manager’s office, we were treated to another round of The Phantom’s infamous notes. This time, the messages revolved around his demands for the upcoming performance of his new opera, along with yet another reminder of his fixation on Christine. The tension in the room was palpable as the managers, performers, Giry and Raoul reacted to his unrelenting control. When Marilyn Caskey, in her role as Carlotta, delivered the line, “Christine Daaé, she doesn’t have the voice,” I couldn’t help but chuckle—Karen Culliver as Christine had been nothing short of spectacular, her voice soaring with strength throughout the performance so she definitely did have the voice. It was a delightful moment that highlighted both the tension and humor skillfully interwoven into the scene.

A Rehearsal for Don Juan Triumphant
This scene truly hit the mark, capturing the chaotic energy of a rehearsal with remarkable authenticity. The disarray among the performers and the palpable tension in the air made the moment feel vividly alive. Seeing it live, I gained new insights into the dynamics of the characters—most notably Christine’s unexpected attempt to assist Piangi. Watching her try to help Gary Rideout’s Piangi as he struggled with his lines added a touch of humanity, and Christine's possible insight to the written material, to the scene, a detail I’d never fully appreciated until witnessing it in person. Rideout’s portrayal of Piangi was exceptional, delivering both humor and frustration in equal measure and Christine’s small act of support offered a glimpse of compassion amidst the turmoil.

Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again / Wandering Child / Bravo, Bravo
This scene is exactly why I sometimes wish I had access to a time machine—or at the very least, hadn’t indulged in that intermission margarita. As Karen Culliver began to sing the opening verses of Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again in the graveyard scene, I blanked out entirely. Or, to put it bluntly, I nodded off. I missed the entire sequence, stirring only slightly when the heat of the flames at the end of the scene jolted me back into semi-consciousness, only to drift off again.

I have no doubt that Karen delivered a remarkable performance—I’ve seen her perform this piece many times since and she always brought incredible emotion to it. But in that moment, during my first time seeing the show I had built up so much anticipation for, I completely missed an iconic scene. Looking back, I can’t help but feel a mix of embarrassment and regret. Falling asleep, even from sheer exhaustion, feels like such a disservice to the experience I’d dreamed about for so long but hey, I got one hell of a unique story attached to my first time seeing the show.

Before the Premiere/Seal My Fate
During these moments, I was fast asleep, and my friend Al didn’t have the heart to wake me. I imagine he saw me peacefully dozing, perhaps even looking adorable in my exhaustion and decided to let me rest.

The Point of No Return
Sadly, I don’t remember this scene either—I was still deeply asleep.
Karen Culliver & Mark Jacoby

Down Once More/Track Down This Murderer/Beyond the Lake
When I finally woke up, Christine was in her wedding dress. The realization that I had missed two major numbers of the show hit me, but I wasn’t yet fully alert enough to absorb what was unfolding on stage. Then, Christine kissed the Phantom, setting off a pivotal and deeply emotional sequence. As Mark Jacoby’s Phantom made the heartbreaking decision to release Raoul from the Punjab lasso—an incredibly dramatic moment I regrettably missed—I was struck by the raw emotion of the scene. Watching Hugh Panaro’s Raoul, vulnerable and ensnared in the noose, added to the gravity of the Phantom’s sacrifice.

The Phantom’s choice to let Christine leave with Raoul was both devastating and beautiful. It was in those final moments that the weight of the story truly hit me. Tears streamed down my face—not because I had missed so much of the action but because Mark Jacoby’s portrayal of the Phantom was utterly soul-crushing in its vulnerability. As he clutched Christine’s wedding veil, now alone once more, the sorrow in his final moments on stage was almost unbearable. When he sang the haunting last line of the show, “It’s over now, the music of the night!”, the reality sank in—the performance had ended. Yet, even as the curtain fell, I already felt the pull to return to the box office for another chance to experience the magic.

As the actors took their bows, I was on my feet instantly, giving them the applause they deserved after the most breathtaking 2 hours and 45 minutes I’d ever spent anywhere. I was completely enamored with every actor and actress on stage, but my admiration for Mark Jacoby burned brightest. His performance inspired me and for a fleeting moment, I dreamed of becoming the youngest Phantom of the Opera of all time—perhaps before I turned 19. Of course, fate had other plans; by 19, my voice hadn’t aged or matured in the way I’d hoped and even now, 30 years later, aside from improved stamina and range, my voice hasn’t changed much since my teens. Fortunately, my voice did fit a couple of other roles in some Lloyd Webber penned shows and for the short time I found myself in musical theatre, I made the most of what I had to work with.

While I didn’t attend the evening performance, Al and I ended the day with an early dinner at the Caliente Cab Company before heading back to his apartment. I crashed almost immediately, brushing my teeth and collapsing into bed for a much-needed rest. Over the next several months—from September 1992 until I left New York City in March 1993—I saw The Phantom of the Opera 34 more times at the Majestic Theatre. Each performance felt more exhilarating than the last and Karen Culliver as Christine was consistently outstanding, delivering breathtaking performances every time she took the stage. Over time, I also had the pleasure of seeing LuAnn Aronson and Raissa Katona in the role, each of whom brought their own unique strengths to Christine. Both were absolutely delightful to watch and in certain moments, offered interpretations that rivaled or even surpassed what I’d come to expect. Their distinct approaches added even more depth and variety to my experience of the show.

Since that unforgettable first show, my Phantom journey has expanded well beyond Broadway. I’ve had the privilege of experiencing productions by the Christine Company in Los Angeles and San Francisco, the Raoul Company and the Music Box Company (respectively the 2nd and 3rd National Tours) across various locations in the United States and even the North American Tour during its Atlanta stop in 2013. Each performance was unique in its own way, yet the brilliance of the original Hal Prince-directed production remains unparalleled in my heart. It holds an eternal place in my soul, a shining beacon of artistic excellence that continues to inspire me—and I know it always will.

Thank you for joining me as I relived my first and many subsequent experiences with The Phantom of the Opera. Every performance has enriched my life and I love sharing these memories with fellow fans and theater enthusiasts. What are your favorite Phantom moments? Have you seen the Broadway production, touring companies or perhaps another version altogether? I’d love to hear your thoughts, so feel free to share them in the comments below! If you enjoyed this post and feel inspired, consider showing your appreciation in a way that helps me continue writing and sharing my stories. Whether it’s a thoughtful comment, a kind word or another gesture of support, it means the world to me. Thank you for being a part of my journey!


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