Remembering Marin Mazzie

by Chris Peterson

I was scrolling through YouTube the other night, trying to avoid emails and real life, when I landed on a video of Marin Mazzie singing “Back to Before” from Ragtime. It was one of those old, low-res clips that has no business hitting as hard as it does. But it stopped me.

I’ve heard her sing that song before, of course. But something about it this time caught me off guard. Marin Mazzie had one of those rare voices. Not just beautiful. Not just technically perfect. But smart. Every note meant something. Every word had weight. She never just sang the song. She understood it. She lived in it.

I got to see her live three times, which still feels like a small miracle. First in Ragtime, where she played Mother with so much strength and so much ache that you felt her transformation in your chest. When she sang “Back to Before” in person, it felt like the whole theater was holding its breath. She didn’t need to raise her voice to raise the stakes. She was just present and alive and undeniable.

Later I saw her in Spamalot, which could not have been more different, but somehow she still carried that same sense of authority. She could be ridiculous and regal at the same time. She knew exactly what she was doing. And then came Next to Normal, where she stepped into a role that demanded everything. Emotionally. Vocally. Physically. Watching her navigate that part was like witnessing someone climb a mountain in real time. But she never made it about her. She made it about truth.

She had a way of cutting through the noise. There was always clarity. Always intention. She never coasted. Never faked it. Never phoned it in. Even when life gave her every excuse to stop.

In 2015, Marin was diagnosed with stage IV ovarian cancer. But she kept showing up. She performed in Zorba! and The King and I while undergoing treatment. She never made a big show of it. She just did the work. That kind of courage is hard to explain unless you’ve seen it.

She passed away on the morning of September 13, 2018, in her Manhattan home. She was 57 years old. And six days later, Broadway dimmed its lights. Just for a minute. But it was enough. It said what we were all thinking. That she mattered. That we felt the loss.

There is so much we never got from Marin Mazzie. So many performances we will only ever imagine. But what she gave us still echoes. And if you ever need a reminder of what theater can be at its best, search for that video. Watch her sing “Back to Before.”