When music touches the heart – An evening with The Sound of Music at Aarhus Theatre

There is something very special about entering Aarhus Theatre.

Not just because the building itself is a piece of history – but because it feels like the perfect backdrop for this particular story.
Although The Sound of Music became world famous with the 1965 film version, it is based on a true story that took place in 1930s Austria.
And with the theater's magnificent halls, ornamentation and timeless elegance, it's as if the space itself sends us back to the beginning of the 20th century – right where the von Trapp family's story began.

You can already feel it in the foyer. The chandeliers cast soft light over the waiting guests, and the chatter in the corners has an expectant ring. Some are here for the first time. Others have been here before. But we are all waiting for the same thing, for the doors to Store Scene to open and a story to unfold.

I look up, as I always do. The ceiling in the great hall is a small work of art in itself – and the chairs, although not 100 years old, are an exact replica of those from the theater's opening hours. And it feels right to sit here.

And then the curtain falls.

The first notes do not come from the stage, but from the corridors.
The nuns move along the rows with candles in their hands and songs on their lips.
We are in Nonnberg Monastery now, and it feels real. The silence in the audience tells me that I am not the only one who is moved.

The main character Maria – played by Amanda Friis Jürgensen – enters with long strides, lively eyes and a voice that fills the room without being overbearing. There is something in the way she moves, sings and is present that makes Maria feel completely real. As if the role is not just played, but felt from the inside.

And as the children step forward one by one, lined up and tall like little soldiers in school uniforms, an inner warmth spreads within me. The kind where you instinctively start to smile without thinking about it.

They sing. They smile and they hit each other. And you kind of forget that they're not actually brothers and sisters.

The story unfolds – and I no longer think about the fact that I am sitting in Aarhus.

I know how The Sound of Music ends.
Even though I saw the film recently, it's something completely different to sit here and experience the story unfold on stage.
Because here in Aarhus Theatre's version, the story gets its own pulse. Its own sound.

A nine-piece orchestra sits hidden in the orchestra pit, ensuring that the music is present in every scene.
The scenery moves almost imperceptibly. The revolving stage is used as if it were a natural part of the house – as if the space itself helps the story forward.

The fun, the quirky – and the dangerous

It quickly became clear that the audience wasn't just sitting and watching – we were there.
I felt it myself. The way people reacted, leaning forward a little in their chairs, exchanging glances with the person next to them. 

There was applause after every song. Not a polite “well, that went well,” but applause with enthusiasm. As if people needed to show that it was a hit. That it was moving.
And it did. I saw smiles all around the room – and several who just sat a little extra quiet after the stronger scenes.

We also laugh several times. Both at Maria, at the others on stage, and especially at Max and the excellent butler, who steals the attention with his facial expressions in small glimpses.
I love when theatre dares to make room for humor in the midst of seriousness. It makes it human.

Finally comes the darkness.

The red banners. The black-clad officers and the swastika on stage.
I have a lump in my throat. Not only because it's beautifully staged, but because it feels... frighteningly real.

It's as if the performance reminds us of something we'd rather forget. That the darkness can come again. That we must dare to stand together.

A family you believe in

Jacob Madsen Kvols, who plays Captain von Trapp, told me in a previous interview that he has three children himself and has used his own experiences as a father to understand the role:

“There's something about being responsible and grieving at the same time. Wanting to protect your children – but also letting go.”

It's noticeable. Both in the scenes with Maria, where he gradually melts, and especially when he plays Edelweiss. His voice is carried by something heartfelt.

Amanda Friis Jürgensen told me in an interview earlier this week that she experiences the role of Maria differently now than she did as a child:

"Now as an adult, the love story is much more meaningful. There's a depth that I only really understand now that I'm in the role myself."

And that depth is felt. Not only in her interaction with the children, but also in her relationship with the captain. Something genuine emerges – a family you believe in.

That's what theater can do.

When I stepped out of the theater, I still had the notes with me.
Sound of Music is an experience that touches something deep inside. Like being reminded of how powerful a story can be when it both looks back and speaks directly to today's world situation.

When a theater manages to give a classic new life without losing its soul, but on the contrary, enhancing it, then they have hit on something.
And Aarhus Theatre hit the mark.
In the heart and in the mind. In the quiet hope that we all dare to choose goodness and love – even when it requires something from our innermost being.

The Sound of Music premieres May 1st

Game time: May 1 – June 14

Aarhus Theatre Big stage