"Hamilton's" Place in Musical History

For my last blog, I want to go kinda meta with my commentary. Since so much of Hamilton is about legacies, I thought it'd be interesting to talk about what the legacy of Hamilton itself will be.

Hamilton arrived at an interesting place in musical history. It follows many shows such as Avenue Q, Spring Awakening, Next to Normal, American Idiot, and Miranda's own In the Heights, which, like Hamilton, do interesting and new things with the format of the musical, which usually manifested itself in new and inspired choices in music and choreography. But none of these musicals gained much significant traction in popularity outside of the Broadway community, and were certainly not as popular as more traditional musicals. Hamilton, however, is another story; it's reached such a height of popularity and has entered the popular consciousness to a point almost unlike any other musical in the history of our culture (has the writer and star of a musical ever hosted SNL before?). Sure, it might not be as big a household name as other classics like The Phantom of the Opera, Les Miserables, Beauty and the Beast, or even more modern shows like Wicked, but those shows have some years under their belt.

Hamilton's place in modern pop culture is fascinating to examine, and I really think it's going to be looked back on as a turning point for the modern musical. While I doubt there will be another Hamilton in terms of pop culture presence and significance, I'm sure that there will be plenty more that are just as daring, original, and revolutionary (no pun intended). If Lin-Manuel Miranda continues writing at the level he currently is, I bet his name will be remembered alongside names like Sondheim, Rogers & Hammerstein, or Gershwin.

King George's Role in "Hamilton"

A few blog posts ago, I wrote about the cut John Adams rap, and why Lin-Manuel Miranda chose to remove it from the show. The conclusion that I came to was that it was cut for the sake of perspicuity; the rap is ultimately redundant and takes up unnecessary stage time, as well as being targeted toward a character that never actually appears in person on stage throughout the entire show.

But upon further thought, I realized that this logic completely falls apart when you examine another aspect of the show- that of King George III. He has three songs to himself, all of which are solo numbers, and he never interacts with another character outside of that- hell, he's never even featured on stage outside of his ballads. With the Adams rap, it was half of one song ("The Adams Administration") that was cut, but in this instance, it's three full songs that are fairly inconsequential in the scheme of things- not only that, but really King George's entire character could be cut from the show and none of the other characters would really be affected. The only character that is stated to have interaction with George is John Adams, who, as you'll recall, isn't actually in the show.

But I think that there's a fundamental difference between George's songs and the Adams rap. No other songs in the show are anything like the Brit-pop pseudo-love ballads that the monarch spouts every so often during relevant events in the chronology of the show. They are both lyrically and musically different from everything else in the show, and cutting it denies the show the variety that these songs very effectively inspire.

"The World Turned Upside Down" and Revisionist History

In "Yorktown," there's a lyric towards the end of the song as the Americans win the Battle of Yorktown- and in effect, the Revolutionary War- which reads, "And as our fallen foes retreat, I hear the drinking song they're singing..." followed by the repeated lyrics "The world turned upside down." This, and the lyrics that proceed it, are lifted from Chernow's biography upon which the show was based. However, there's no actual direct record of the British troops singing this song, but Lin-Manuel Miranda incorporates it as a major theme of this piece- it's even in the parenthetical of the song title.

This points toward a very interesting larger trend in the show, a trend of changing historical facts in the show. Maybe my title decrying the musical as a revisionist history was a bit extreme, but the point still remains. Many of the historical details in the show are either glossed over or completely changed. For instance, Philip Schuyler had many more children besides the three sisters we meet in the show, including several older sons. This fundamentally changes Angelica's motivation upon meeting Hamilton. She also was married when they met in real life, another huge change in the dynamic. Another lesser example was the fact that Alexander and Eliza had seven other children that (if I recall) aren't even mentioned, and definitely don't feature as strongly into the story as Philip.

These types of changes are not unique to Hamilton, however. Many historical films, such as Braveheart, Amadeus, Marie Antoinette, and The Imitation Game take massive liberties with telling true historical events. Many of these events fundamentally change the courses of the stories they're telling, which, initially, seems pretty dishonest.

But I think it's important to allow artists to take some creative liberties with historical events. All of the films I listed above received high praise, so it isn't like changing the events makes the films worse- if anything, the events are being changed to make the narrative better. The alterations that Miranda made to Hamilton didn't harm the narrative, they only made the story more focused and the character arcs more impactful. Historical revisionism is important, even if it initially seems misguided.

The Incredible Luck of PBS' "Hamilton" Documentary

A few weeks ago, PBS aired a documentary entitled Hamilton's America that chronicled the writing, production, and success of Hamilton, through the eyes of a variety of individuals including Lin-Manuel Miranda himself, various members of the cast, and a number of other significant public figures- including President Obama himself.

What I find really interesting about this documentary is the fact that they started filming it a number of months before it first debuted off-Broadway at the Public Theatre. Yes, Miranda and his work was well-known at that point within the Broadway community after his success with In the Heights, but there is no way that PBS knew how insanely popular Hamilton would go on to become. So what inspired them to actually go through with making this documentary, instead of shifting their focus elsewhere to something that was a more guaranteed hit?

I think the largest factor by far was the buzz around the show even before it had finished being written. A variety of performers and musicians had talked to Miranda about his project, and they all had a very similar response- skeptical at first, but eventually very impressed and huge fans. Miranda first performed one of the songs, the opening number, at a poetry night being held at the White House, and while many initially thought it was a joke, everyone- including the President and First Lady- recognized Lin's incredible ability and songwriting prowess.

Another factor- and one that is more than a little connected to the last one- is Miranda's established ability. As I mentioned, Miranda was already fairly well-known within the Broadway community after his first show, the aforementioned In the Heights, won four Emmys, so any buzz around a new project from him was bound to be huge. There's also his work with the rap improv group Freestyle Love Supreme and on various TV shows, so the guy was an established talent.

But the last factor, and I think probably the biggest one, is luck. "Hip-hop American history musical" was bound to be very original and probably pretty good, especially coming from the creative team it had, but they really had no way of knowing it was going to be such a smash hit. So hey, congrats to PBS for getting as lucky as they did.

(By the way, if you haven't seen it you should watch it ASAP. It's on PBS' Facebook page and website for free, it's pretty great.)

"Sit Down, John"

The John Adams storyline, while a pretty short one, is very entertaining. John Adams himself isn't actually a character in the show, but his presence is represented by a deep, almost demonic voice that doubles several lyrics in mid-Act II. We're told that Hamilton and Adams constantly fought and practically destroyed the Federalist party- of which they were the only two significant members- but we only get a tiny bit of back-and-forth: Adams calling Hamilton "creole bastard," and Hamilton's response, of which we only get to hear a clip (including a censored F-bomb).

As a lot of people know, the "sit down, John" line is the end of what was originally a much longer diss rap from Hamilton to Adams. With a quick YouTube search, you can find Lin-Manuel Miranda performing said rap, and as you'd expect, it's some pretty good stuff. His trademark wordplay and rhythmic originality are on full display. It's not a bad rap at all, it's actually pretty great. So why cut it?

Say what you will about Hamilton, but it's an incredibly focused show. This might seem like an odd thing to say about a musical that clocks in at around two and a half hours, but there's not a lot of fat. Every song has a pretty distinct purpose, and the story loses something if you cut any of them. Even "Tomorrow There'll Be More of Us," a reprise of "The Story of Tonight" which shows Hamilton receiving word of John Laurens' death at the tail end of the first act, which is famously missing from the soundtrack, adds a little something to the story and Hamilton's motivation going forward.

This is ultimately the explanation for the cutting of the Adams rap. However good it might be, Hamilton accomplishes ultimately the same thing in one sentence. The show has a lot of story to tell, and can't affort to stop for anything that doesn't add anything of substance. Who knows, maybe it'll end up on the mixtape.

The Redundancy of "Hurricane"

Alexander isn't a typical musical protagonist in more ways than one, but one of the most immediately noticeable ways is that he only sings one solo in the entire show. "Hurricane" comes about halfway into Act II, right as the sex scandal storyline is picking up, and features Alexander singing alone. The staging frames him in the middle of a number of chorus members, swirling and dipping around him like a hurricane, placing more of an emphasis of him, in the "eye" of the hurricane (also reflecting the repeated lyric in the song "In the eye of a hurricane, there is quiet").

So with all this focus and singularity, this song has to be something groundbreaking and fresh, right? A new look into Alexander's psyche, or an exciting new tune. Right?

Wrong. The subject of the song is just a reiteration of the opening number, this time told by Hamilton instead of about him, and the backing instrumentals feature motifs from "Yorktown."

What the hell, show?

But while this song is fairly redundant, both content-wise and musically, it serves a very important purpose. Miranda and his team didn't just copy and paste elements of other songs, they crafted them together in a meaningful way.

The lyrics remind us of themes that drive the character that we haven't heard since the beginning of act one- almost two hours ago in show time- and they're also used in a different way. In "Alexander Hamilton" they're used as exposition, setting the stage for the "important" parts of the story, but here they're used to reinforce Alexander's emotions and motivations.

The music also has purpose- in reiterating themes and motifs from "Yorktown," it gives us the same emotional context that we felt during that song- battle, struggle, and ultimately triumph. This can represent both the emotional struggle in his youth that he sings about, or the struggle that he is about to face with The Reynolds Pamphlet. Either way, the choice to use the same music from a scene in which our characters fought and won a war is not coincidental.

It just goes to show, like I've said before, that this show does nothing on accident.

The Hamilton Mixtape

As a lot of people know, Hamilton did not originally start out as a musical. Lin-Manuel Miranda's first idea, after reading Ron Chernow's biography, was to create a project entitled The Hamilton Mixtape. As time went on, he developed his songs to fit a stage musical structure, eventually writing the show in its full form as we know it today. And the answer to "why" it was developed as a staged production instead of a mixtape is one that has been answered a million times in a million different interviews and news articles, so instead I want to look at what makes a mixtape, and how Hamilton's story fits that mold.

Mixtapes have been around, in the hip-hop world, since the 1970s, when they originated as recordings of live performances (the only way the genre existed outside of the in-person gigs). Over time they grew and changed, as DJs and artists recorded samples and compilations of their material which were distributed primarily in large cities like New York. These recordings often blended genres like rap, R&B, and soul over hip-hop beats to create new and original tracks. Today, mixtapes take several forms, such as developmental recordings by new artists, experimental albums or passion projects by existing musicians, and promotional or "filler" material leading up to the release of an official album. One thing ties all of these together- they are almost always released for free. This is often for legal reasons- mixtapes usually predominantly feature mixes or samples of pre-existing songs which haven't had copyright agreements cleared or negotiated, thus making any profit gained from them illegal. But sometimes the tapes won't contain any copyrighted material, and will simply be released as a "gift" to fans from the artist.

While I doubt The Hamilton Mixtape would've been released for free, I do think it fits a lot of the molds of a mixtape. Many of the songs on the album contain a myriad of melodies and lyrics from pre-existing hip-hop tracks that, were the show not staged, Miranda may have chosen to sample for the recording. Hamilton also features lots of songs which blend genres ("Satisfied," "The Story of Tonight" and its reprise, and "One Last Time" come to mind), another classic staple of mixtapes. It could also be seen as a passion project, similar to many mixtapes released today by established creators- an umbrella beneath which Miranda definitely falls (and would've at the time), after the resounding success of his show In the Heights.

All this being said, The Hamilton Mixtape might not be dead. Miranda and producer Questlove have gone on record saying they're in the process of developing a supplemental album featuring covers of numbers from the show by famous musicians, as well as original new tracks about the characters. So this passion project might have a second life, even after the original idea has flown from the nest and become its own full-fledged creation in Hamilton. I, for one, really hope to see the mixtape released.

"The Room Where it Happens" Part II - Who Tells The Story?

So in my last post I talked about "The Room Where it Happens" and how it played into Burr's character arc. One thing about that song that I didn't mention is something that it does more than any other song in the show, which is play with the idea of unreliable narrators. Most of the song is sung from Burr's perspective, but as he said, he is never really sure what went on in the room, as he wasn't there. So how can we trust what he's saying? Most of it we simply have to take on faith, much as Burr himself is doing about the results of the dinner party.

There are a few bits of the song that aren't sung by Burr, however. Jefferson, Madison, and Hamilton- the three men in the room making the decisions- all get a go at telling part of the story. But we're never entirely sure if we can believe what they're saying either. Each of Jefferson's phrases is proceeded by Burr and the chorus introducing them with "Thomas claims." The use of the word "claim" here is very eyebrow-raising, to say the least- it doesn't lend a whole lot of credibility to the things that Jefferson is saying. The same goes for Madison and Hamilton, if a bit less directly. We have to take it on faith that the things they're telling us about the goings-on at the dinner party are actually true, and not just their twisted interpretation of the events that unfolded.

And this reflects the entire central idea of the song. No one can really be positive if something was true unless they witness it firsthand- an idea that Burr conveys through about fifty different metaphors. And as I mentioned in my other post, this largely informs Burr's character going forward, almost to an unhealthy amount. In "Your Obedient Servant," he menacingly sings to/about Hamilton, "You've kept me from the room where it happens for the last time." Burr wants to know what happens when decisions are made- or, more accurately, he wants a hand in making those decisions. This fuels him for the entire second act, up to and including his killing of Alexander.

"The Room Where it Happens-" What does Burr stand for?

Aaron Burr has two songs in the show that serve as major character moments, one in the middle of each act. Act One's piece is "Wait For It," a song about legacy (I know, right), controlling your fate, and perseverance in the face of opposition. Act Two's number is the one I want to focus on, however- "The Room Where it Happens." [Quick aside- Miranda has claimed that these are the two songs that he is proudest of in the show.]

Throughout the musical, Aaron Burr has been singled out for not having anything to stand for. This theme is first introduced in "Aaron Burr, Sir" with Hamilton's line, "If you stand for nothing, Burr, what'll you fall for?" which, not-so-coincidentally, echoes a famous quote often attributed to the real life Alexander Hamilton, "Those who stand for nothing fall for anything." The implication here is that Burr is weak-willed and has no cause to stand behind. This ideal is reinforced throughout the rest of the show, most memorably in "Non-Stop," when Hamilton asks Burr, "We won the war, what was it all for?" and telling him "For once in your life, take a stand with pride." Hamilton is challenging Burr's whole sense of being here, driving him to action in Act Two.

"The Room Where it Happens" is where all this comes to a head. The song recounts the Dinner Table Bargain of 1790, in which Hamilton, Jefferson, and Madison made a deal involving the location of the United States capital, as well as other private political matters. The crux of the number, as repeated by Burr and the company in the chorus, is that the only people who really knew what happened at the Bargain are the men in the room. Burr uses this as a larger metaphor for politics, at the end revealing that his driving force and motive is to "be in the room where it happens."

And this is where Burr starts to make his transformation from ally to enemy of Hamilton. His motives are selfish, (seemingly) only wishing for power and not caring for much else. In the next brief number, "Schuyler Defeated," it is revealed that Burr was elected to the Senate after changing parties, taking the seat of Angelica and Eliza's father- Hamilton's father-in-law- Philip Schuyler. Hamilton confronts Burr about this, who claims he's only doing what's best for himself, and that Hamilton is being too proud. Even though, as he states, he has no intention of explicitly ending his friendship with Alexander, he is taking charge of his own fate- a theme from Burr's first number, "Wait For It."

The more you read into this show, the more it becomes clear that Miranda is a genius. Everything in this show has a purpose, and nothing happens without a reason, however clear or unclear that reason may be.

Hip Hop Culture and its Place in "Hamilton"

Hamilton is, as anyone who's listened to the soundtrack or knows anything about it is well aware of, a lot closer to something like a hip hop mixtape than a traditional Broadway musical soundtrack. Its score is full of beat drops, rap verses, and a load of homages to classic hip-hop culture. Lin-Manuel Miranda's lyrics reference Notorious BIG, DMX, LL Cool J, A Tribe Called Quest, and many more, as well as plenty of general homages to the culture in general.

Looking at his motivations for writing the score in this way, there could be many reasons for why he did this. A very simple one could be to stand out; for one thing, there have not been very many musicals with a hip-hop or rap influenced soundtrack, so Hamilton would be instantly unique in that regard. For another, more and more musicals these days are taking unique approaches with their music, from rock soundtracks like Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson and The School of Rock, to more retro electronic vibes like the ones found in the recent American Psycho. More traditional musicals still have their place, but the scene is moving forward and many shows don't want to fade into obscurity.

Another reason, and one Miranda has gone on record expressing as one of his motives for giving the show its now-iconic modern hip hop vibe, is to reflect modern American culture. The subtitle of the show is "An American Musical," and that isn't simply because it's a story about our founding fathers. With its racially diverse cast, modern dance influences in the choreography, and hip hop music, Hamilton more than any other show on Broadway takes a clear expressed effort to showcase itself as a view of America today.

Legacies

One of the major recurring themes throughout Hamilton is the discussion of legacy. Almost everyone is concerned with their legacy in one way or another, and major decisions made by characters are informed largely by this notion. Why has Miranda chosen legacy as such a prominent motif in his show? There could be a number of explanations.

For one thing, it makes sense for these characters as we know them. Hamilton has fought hard to get to the status he achieved, and he doesn't want that to go to waste; he wants his legacy to be a good one. Aaron Burr, over the years that we watch him, has fought time and time again to be in "the room where it happens;" and when he campaigns for President and finally becomes Vice President, he believes he has cemented his legacy, but he tarnishes it by killing Hamilton- the only thing he was ever really known for. George Washington enlists Hamilton to help him with his Farewell Address, making sure that his legacy as President was not of one who left to soon for no good reason.

And this seems like a fairly reasonable explanation, if not for the numerous other times in the show legacy was mentioned by or about other characters whose arcs were not resolved in a similar manor. In "The Room Where it Happens," Burr and Hamilton discuss the legacy of General Hugh Mercer. Eliza opines on the necessity of a legacy in her solo number "Burn." So what does this mean for the show?

Personally, I think it serves as meta-commentary. The legacy of these figures is all that we have over 200 years later, and anything we know about them is informed by their legacy. Aaron Burr's character arc ultimately culminates in his killing of Hamilton, even though he lived a life of his own. Granted, we do see it, just as we see more of Washington, Eliza, Hamilton, and all the others, than just the denouement of their respective life's stories- but this is what informs it. This is true for and any all biographies, fictionalized or real, for anyone throughout history. Anyone's story will be different if you're telling it after they have died, and since everyone in Hamilton is long gone, their legacies are all we really have.

"Alexander Hamilton:" Opening Numbers, Setting the Stage, and Demon Barbers

Our show begins with a number which draws its name both from the protagonist of the show, and the show's title. The stage is set by "Alexander Hamilton," a slow tempo yet still ever-driving number recounting Hamilton's life story up until he arrives in New York in 1776. We are introduced to the themes of the show and the traits of our main character, as well as the company of the show itself.

In his book Hamilton: The Revolution, Miranda cites the opening number from Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street, which is entitled "The Ballad of Sweeney Todd" as inspiration for this number. The songs have a lot in common; both feature short lines sung by the company about our main character and his life's story, setting the stage for our show to truly begin. Both songs feature motifs that reappear later in their respective shows a number of times. The similarities are so direct that for Broadway Cares' annual Easter Bonnet competition, the cast of Hamilton performed their opening number, with the lyrics altered to tell the story of Sweeney Todd.

Why is this how Miranda chooses to open his show? Why does he lift a number from another Broadway number, and why do one with such a unique format, as opposed to a simple standard opening number?

The answer is pretty simple, and can be summed up shortly: exposition.

Both Hamilton and Sweeney Todd are shows that follow a pretty consistent through-line; though there are time jumps in both, we always feel like we are seeing all of the story right in a row. And neither show wastes time getting into the story, either; we meet our characters and watch them interact from the word "go." And part of the reason this works so well is how their opening numbers set the stage. Exposition in other mediums like film can be tedious and forced, but with theatre, it gives you a chance to do something interesting. In both shows, the cast recounts the story of the protagonist before introducing them onto the scene. Also worth noting, Alexander and Sweeney respectively are the only cast members "in character" during this scene. Leslie Odom Jr. and Daveed Diggs aren't playing Burr or Lafayette, just as Angela Lansbury and Victor Garber weren't playing Mrs. Lovett or Anthony. They're acting as narrators setting the stage for our story to be told, and because we're immediately given so much information in such an engaging way, we aren't lost when the story and songs begin immediately afterwards. Time on stage is like property, and the more of it you waste, the less the audience is going to want to watch you. It's no coincidence that Sweeney Todd is revered as a classic, and I have no doubt Hamilton will be too.

"I Am Not Throwing Away My Shot"

These lyrics are repeated in the show, by a conservative estimate, around five thousand times. If they appeared any more frequently, it would probably get really annoying and they would lose any impact that they held. Upon a first surface-level listening, one might wonder why this particular phrase is used with such frequency throughout this show. But I have listened to Hamilton (ballpark guess) 2 or 3 times all the way through, and many more times with various songs on shuffle. So I've had a chance to process and think about why Lin-Manuel Miranda loves this series of words so much.

Put very simply, "I am not throwing away my shot" (and the lyrics that follow) serve as Alexander Hamilton's theme. In lots of movies and musicals, certain characters have a musical or lyrical motif attached to them. In film, this may weave its way through the score during key scenes involving the character (such as the classic "Binary Sunset" in the original Star Wars, which serves as a theme of sorts for Luke Skywalker). In musicals, it's usually much more explicit; a certain melody or set of lyrics may be sung by a character during key plot moments, or may be sung or spoken to a character when a scene pertains to them. As you may have noticed, these are the exact sorts of ways that "My Shot" and its chorus are used for Hamilton. He sings or speaks excerpts from it more frequently than any other set of words or notes in the show (I'm pretty sure; I haven't done an exact count, but I'd be shocked if anything beat it besides maybe "Aaron Burr, Sir").

So why "My Shot?" Why doesn't Miranda choose something else for Hamilton's theme? I mean, "Alexander Hamilton," the first song of the show, bears his name, so why not that, for instance? As far as I can see, two reasons.

The first being how well "My Shot" and its lyrics serve as a mantra for Hamilton and everything he stands for. If he gets an opportunity, he's going to take it. Hamilton is, as he sings, just like America- "young, scrappy, and hungry." These lyrics specifically appear less as the show goes on; Hamilton, as he gets older, finds less shots to take and has settled into his career choices. The message doesn't go away completely however, as he tells various other characters, "do not throw away your shot."

The second meaning holds a lot more literal meaning. Two of the most crucial plot moments in the show, the deaths of Alexander's son Philip, as well as his own death, involve someone literally "throwing away their shot;" both Alexander and Philip aim their pistols at the sky in their respective duels, and are killed because of it. In "The World Was Wide Enough," Hamilton references it one last time (heh, see what I did there) in saying "If I throw away my shot, is this how you'll remember me?/ What if this bullet is my legacy?" (I'll probably do another post on legacy at some point as well). This is clearly a large internal debate for Hamilton, but in acting against the thing he's repeated throughout the show so frequently, it shows that he is willing to act even against his own wishes to do what's right.

Dear Theodosia- Fatherhood, Pride, and America's Beginning

"Dear Theodosia," a duet between Alexander Hamilton and Aaron Burr, is a far-too-oft overlooked song from Hamilton. It comes in toward the end of Act I; the last we heard from Hamilton and company, they had won the Battle of Yorktown and brought freedom to their country in the explosive showstopper, "Yorktown (The World Turned Upside Down)." 

"Dear Theodosia," which is far more at ease and low-key than "Yorktown," opens with Burr singing to his newborn daughter, the titular Theodosia. Hamilton joins him, singing of his own son Philip. Both men express their gratitude, joy, and pride caused by their children, and sing of their happiness that their progeny will "come of age with [their] young nation."

This song has many different purposes and layers within the context of the show. The most obvious is that of the fatherhood of our two leads; they are taking on a new responsibility in being parents, and both men eagerly anticipate the future. Its place in the show following "Yorktown" brings another meaning to their fatherhood, however, which can be seen in the line quoted above- not only have Hamilton and Burr both fathered children, but they have also led to the recent freedom- a metaphorical "birth" of sorts- of America. Not only are they raising literal children, but they're also bringing to life a new country, which will also "come of age" under the guidance of men like Alexander and Aaron.

This brings to light another layer of the song; Hamilton and Burr's relationship. Throughout the show, Hamilton and Burr undergo various stages of being friends to being enemies, and on the "Hamilton-Burr Frenemy Timeline," this song falls near the middle, but still decidedly on the Friend side. It is after moments such as "Right Hand Man" and "Wait For It," both numbers where Burr airs grievances he has with Hamilton, but it's before the two have their true falling out, which occur more in the vicinity of "We Know" and "The Election of 1800." This song, more than any other, highlights the similarities between the men and their personalities. The choruses and bridge are sung in unison, both of them expressing the same emotion and feeling toward their children. This is contrasted by Hamilton and Burr's second duet, "Your Obedient Servant," which occurs at a similar place in Act II and is at the height of their enemy-ness and division.

Another, and slightly less obvious layer of "Dear Theodosia" is in the music. As it is a musical, Hamilton relies largely (in fact, almost entirely) on musical numbers to tell the story, so it seems natural that the music would reflect the tone and mood of the show and its characters. And this rings true anywhere you look; songs like "My Shot," "Right Hand Man," and "Yorktown" are punchy and forceful, emphasizing the strong emotions and wartime experiences of our characters, while numbers such as "That Would Be Enough," "Take a Break," and "Best of Wives and Best of Women" are tender and heartfelt. "Dear Theodosia" begins with simple piano backing, but builds to add subtle guitar and rich strings. These instruments playing their sweet, almost lullaby-esque melodies, perfectly capture Hamilton and Burr's innocent joy and swelling pride.

And on top of all of that, it's just a great song. Seriously, give it another listen. A very underrated song from the soundtrack.