When I was eight years old, sitting with a tingling anticipation in the New Amsterdam Theatre in New York City, it was as if someone removed a blindfold from my eyes, transporting me to “A Whole New World” (1992). Sitting in the maroon seat and shuffling my feet as I fidgeted with the gold and purple program in my lap, little did I realize I would be changed forever as the lights dimmed and the music of the fictional Agrabah consumed me.
My paternal and maternal grandmas united on a summer day in 2014 to take me on an adventure — or really, a magic carpet ride. Therefore, I must dedicate “Aladdin the Musical” (2011) to my Grandma Barbara and Grandma Karen, who introduced me to my first love and to “unbelievable sights” in the world of theater.
“Aladdin the Musical” (2011) follows a teenage boy with big dreams who wishes himself into princehood, and finds himself captured between his love for Princess Jasmine and his secret identity as a street urchin. When I first saw the musical, I was young, filled with passion and a desire for greatness. While Aladdin sought an escape from squalor, I sought a life that extended far beyond the reach of my Long Island childhood. No community or place ever felt adequate for me and my dreams. That is, until I found theater.
Like many retired Jewish grandmas, mine are enthusiasts of the Broadway scene and excitedly gifted me the experience of seeing one of my favorite Disney films on the stage. Like my own genies, they granted me a wish I never knew I wanted. As I listen to the soundtrack, its enchanting, rich and sweeping power will always paint the image of that day in my mind. It started with a lunch at Ellen’s Stardust Diner that burst with magic as the waiters and waitresses took the stage on the tabletops, inspiring me with their journeys toward life on Broadway. Then, the memory fast-forwards to sitting in the theater as the orchestra plays “Arabian Nights” (1992), the stage illuminated by the bright hues of the “wondrous place” unfolding before me.
The fall afterward, I begged my mom to sign me up for community theater, which soon became my life. Music, dance and the stage breathed life into me, teaching me lessons and introducing me to people who would change my life forever. It was as if I unlocked my own Cave of Wonders. I felt like this “Diamond in the Rough” (2014). For Aladdin, it took being this diamond in the rough, or someone with great potential, to find the magic lamp. For me, it took being someone filled with passion and drive and nowhere to express my creative side, to inspire my direction toward theater. The way Aladdin viewed himself as a Sultan, I could picture myself accepting a Tony Award from the hands of Neil Patrick Harris and becoming the new King of Manhattan’s Theater District.
Also like Aladdin, whose friends stayed by his side throughout his struggles to succeed, my grandmas occupied the front row of every performance. From my first lead role in “Beauty and the Beast” (1994) to my stark personality change to a T-Bird in “Grease” (1971) and even when I was not front and center like in “Gypsy” (1959), their support never faltered. Through every performance, their presence was a constant force that guided me “One Jump Ahead” (1992) and fueled my lifelong passion.
This is my love letter to Broadway and an ode to my grandmas. The stage became my home, leading me to a “thrilling chase” toward a new direction and the “soaring, tumbling and freewheeling” as described in “A Whole New World.” The stage influenced much of my childhood, pushed me through my teenage years and will forever continue to inspire me.
The same way the Genie and Abu stood beside Aladdin when his life changed, and how the Sultan loved his daughter Jasmine through her challenges, I know my grandmas will be there for all of life’s magic carpet rides, even the ones that may be shaky or as shocking as a shooting star. In that same light, the world of theater has imprinted its undying signature on my heart and I will forever be drawn to the stage — if not as a performer, then always as an eager viewer.
To my grandmas, thank you for sharing “A Whole New World” with me.
Jacob Muscolino (he/him) (28C) is an assistant news editor at The Emory Wheel. He is from Long Island and plans to major in History and East Asian Studies. Outside of the Wheel, he is involved in Emory Reads and Emory Economics Review. You can often find Jacob watching the newest blockbuster for his Letterboxd, dissecting The New York Times and traveling to the next destination on his bucket list.
