For most people, when they hear “orchestra” or “symphony,” they imagine formal clothes, an atmosphere so quiet you could hear a pin drop, and polite clapping. But with the rise of movie and video game soundtrack orchestras comes a new wave of classical music meets pop culture in a way that is changing the way we experience symphonies.
When I walked into the Rockwell’s Proscenium Theater for Undertale: The Determination Symphony, the first thing I was greeted with, instead of the usual dress code of ties and closed-toe shoes, was concert-goers in a variety of cosplays (costumes meant to portray fictional characters). The cosplays ranged from the characters from Undertale or from the same game developer’s other game, Deltarune. Both games boast a large and passionate fanbase. Some cosplays were more casual, electing to wear a signature red pixel heart on their body, while others were in more elaborate gear, like a full cathode ray tube (CRT) TV prop on their heads!
Two cosplayers depicting a secret character, W.D Gaster, from Undertale
Once I moved past all the colorful cosplayers, the concert-going experience was further enhanced by the photo opportunity spots and the array of concert-exclusive merchandise being sold. On both ends of the lobby were two different photo-ops, one being a larger version of the concert’s main art graphic, and the other a replica of one of Undertale’s most iconic scenes. The scene was set at the end of every run of the game where, no matter the choices you make, you are told, “Despite everything, it’s still you”—an inspirational (or haunting) line, depending on the choices you’ve made until that point. Those words stand the test of time even 10 years later.
The author in front of the game’s iconic scene replica
The large-scale replica comes complete with a mirror is where you could take a mirror selfie, or a friend or one of the Proscenium Theater’s attentive staff could take a picture of you. It was a surprise I didn’t see coming for an event like a symphony (usually I would reserve photo op expectations for musical theater productions), but it helped to immerse and mentally prepare myself for a very memorable afternoon at the symphony.
The author’s program brochure and ticket for the event
As I was standing in line for merchandise, I happened to overhear a fan gifting another fan, who she had just met in-line as well, with a sticker that she printed out and made to give out for this event. She had given it for no reason other than she liked the cosplay of the person she met, and even then I imagined how she, in all her adorable passion, would give it to just anyone who struck up a conversation with her. The two young girls continued to converse, and it felt like a platonic meet right out of a coming-of-age movie. It was one of the many exchanges I saw in the lobby of fervent and generous fans giving out freebies. I didn’t imagine that traditional symphony-goers would do the same, gifting freebies out of pocket just because they were huge fans of the symphony they were about to listen to. It was amazing to see this good part of fandom culture being carried over into something that always felt so distant.
Tenna (left) and two Spamtons (middle and right) from ‘Deltarune’
The energy was buzzing through the lobby. As I tried to get my steps in, there was a commotion happening in the lobby. I saw two Tennas (a Tenna is an extremely popular character in the Deltarune fandom) dancing about and seemingly entertaining a crowd of young fans. It was a sight to behold because, again, when would this ever happen anywhere else besides a convention? I watched the fancy lobby turn into a space of passion and youthful zeal, like one of the halls in SMX when I was younger.
Though my first instinct was to raise an eyebrow at the rowdiness, I put myself into the shoes of these kids and younger folks. Undertale and Deltarune, in all their popularity online, still hadn’t really achieved mainstream success. It’s a niche, and oftentimes people who gravitate towards niches like these feel like outcasts in their daily lives. They find comfort and solace in this little thing they enjoy. Likely, this was one of the few times they got to be in a space where they felt like they wouldn’t be judged, or would have to explain themselves for liking a video game so much. We were all here for the same thing. The older you get, the more you worry about younger people. I myself often worry about them and the growing isolation that technology has created, especially for a generation that has never seen a world without it. But for a moment, as I watched the joyful chaos and camaraderie around me, I had a feeling that the next generation would be okay, just as older generations wondered the same thing about us.
This was one of the few times fans got to be in a space where they felt like they wouldn’t have to explain themselves for liking a video game so much. We were all here for the same thing
When the doors opened and we all made our way to our seats, I felt my excitement growing. It’s happening! This is it! It felt like a million years, but in hindsight, only 30 minutes had passed before the lights turned low and I was reduced to a crying mess from the first notes of the first track you hear when you boot up the game. I was choked up and trying to keep myself composed to fully enjoy the experience so I didn’t have to watch the video game scenes through my own tears for over two hours.
Conductor Thanapol Setabrahmana was charismatic in the way he wove his explanations from storybeat to storybeat. He smiled brightly throughout his conducting, and as he spoke forthe duration of the concert, you could tell that there was a love for the material. So often are fandoms and niche interests pushed to the side or held up to fans’ faces by “serious business institutions” in the hopes of making a quick buck. They treat fans as cash cows and give us loveless output, knowing that we would willingly open our wallets as long as they slap on the faces of our favorite characters on their products. So I breathed a sigh of relief and allowed Setabrahmana to take me on the same journey I took 10 years ago, trusting in my captain of the soundscape.
A view of the ‘Undertale Smphony’ stage
The concert ran for over two hours, and every song played had a visual accompaniment on a very large screen behind the orchestra. I was in awe at how Setabrahmana was able to mentally time the start of the clip that would be played with when the Filharmonika Orchestra would also start. He was able to pace it perfectly, and I just felt so immersed throughout the entirety of the concert. The Filharmonika Orchestra played so well that I didn’t even realize they were there at times, because I was so immersed. I always love watching experts play their instruments, but my eyes were glued to the huge screen, and my fingers moved as if I was playing the game. It was truly a testament to their skill at being able to transform the soundtrack’s original sound into rich, vibrant music and make it so seamless, like the soundtrack always sounded like how it was played.
The whole experience brought me back to when I was still a young teen playing Undertale for the first time. If anything, this whole concert felt like it was, as the mental wellness influencers would say, “healing my inner child.” Being in a room full of fans just like me, I was able to laugh, cry, and clap without fear of judgement for how passionate I was. The Undertale concert reminded me of the best things about fandom communities all over. The collective community, the generosity, the source material still hit as hard as they did when I was a teen, and maybe even more so now that I’m an adult.
Despite the years that have passed since I last played the game, it’s still me. I’m still the young Nina playing her first story-driven game on her low-end laptop that would overheat. Playing it until the wee hours of a school night, getting frustrated, crying, laughing—it’s all still me, even 11 years later. And that’s the magic of Undertale and its soundtrack—the ability to transport us to the day we all booted up the game for the first time.
