Martin had attended the ABBA Voyage spectacle at Pudding Mill Lane on the Queen Elizabeth Olympic Park an incredible nine times. After winning a competition for tickets to the very special third anniversary show, he invited me to be his plus one and make my virgin voyage as he achieved his double digits.
Martin is already hyper when it comes to all things ABBA, whom he has adored since he was a little boy. This time he was really flying, as two actual ABBA heroes, Frida and Benny, were going to be in attendance at the ground-breaking virtual show.
I love ABBA too, and his high joy was tripling my anticipation. I knew it was going to make me smile just being in his company, seeing him “shine once more”.
I was really curious about the ABBAtars – digital recreations of ABBA’s younger selves using motion capture technology – as essentially we’d be watching a big video with 3D figures. So what’s the draw? What would I watch most? The ABBAtars? The real Benny and Frida watching those representations of themselves? Or my friend watching the 3D figures he knows are not real, for the tenth time?
My mind had multiple tabs open with all these streaming thoughts making me wonder how ABBA’s iconic past was going be convincing as the “future”.
As I arrived at Pudding Mill Lane DLR station – take the Lewisham-bound train from Stratford – Martin’s pal Greg, also mine by association, spotted me and pulled me into his place in the fast-moving queue. Greg has also been to see ABBA Voyage many times, so I got the lowdown from him as we moved forward.
“How long is the show?” This was all I asked, but he seemed to anticipate my follow-up questions quickly and answered like an air steward doing a demo: “Ninety minutes, no interval. The bar is right beside the entrance to the dance floor. There’s a free cloakroom, and hotdogs are nine pounds.”
Check, check and check. After a quick security search, we were in.
Into what? A silvery, music-filled dome with a constellation of sparkling people, every one of them smiling. Instant love. It’s gals and gays in capes with Prosecco. The foyer has the sci-fi look of Logan’s Run, except we’re all way past 30 and nobody’s running, because everybody who’s here really wants to be. It’s bright, happy colours, glitter, sparkle, sequins worn by all, as if people must display how ABBA makes them feel on the inside by wearing it on the outside.
I scanned the merch and saw a set-up that really knows its crowd: capes, bags, velvet purses with “Money, Money, Money”, make-up bags and the ubiquitous and fabulous ABBA Voyage glitter fan, which, later, I see many 50+ women using to fend off the hot flush brought on by the digital Björn.
Our tickets were for the dance floor, where Greg and I met up with Martin and Anthony for pre-show drinks. The bottle of wine from the bar had to be decanted into plastic pint cups (classy, sassy, voulez-vous), and in our spot we met a lovely guy, Vidar, who’d flown in from Oslo and was seeing the show for the 18th time. There were seats all around and behind us, and anywhere you sit or stand to dance, there seems to be an excellent view in this purpose-built venue.
Frida and Benny entered to roaring cheers, and I felt the atmosphere climb in emotion once again.
The three gigantic screens (each with 65 million pixels) lit up to Agnetha’s and Frida’s faces opening the show with The Visitors, and we were off into this immersive world.
Four life-sized figures appeared, dancing on stage.
“Who are the actors?” I asked Martin. “Are they real?”
He smiled with a “bless you” expression like I’d seen Santa.
“No. They’re not real. They’re the ABBAtars.”
I actually couldn’t believe what I was seeing. It looked so real (but it wasn’t). I did a double-take up to (real) Frida and Benny, then back again to (computer) Frida and Benny from 50 years ago.
Only when I surrendered the past to accept the future was I able to sing along to the glorious hits and join in with the arm-waving. And that’s what you’ve got to do to enjoy it – just get over fighting the technicalities. It’s a show, not a gig, and it’s coming at you, in an arrow straight to the heart.
The light show, music and atmosphere flooded my senses and in a moment during Chiquitita it became clear how deeply ABBA’s music has shaped happiness for so many, connecting people to miraculous joyful heights like four Jesuses from the Seventies.
Frida gave a speech, highlighting that she’s turning 80, and declaring her love for everyone in the room. I wondered how she must feel, seeing all this, knowing what they’ve accomplished, and how it carries on, the love flowing forward through generations, as the kids in the Dublin Castle (where I DJ) never stop asking for Mamma Mia, Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! and Waterloo.
As we left and crossed the road to the Snoozebox pub (a vital end to the evening with plenty of space for Anthony to display his very impressive gymnastic skills), I totally got why Martin keeps coming back to Pudding Mill Lane. This kind of escape to a natural high is addictive. I was already thinking of when I could next visit and who I could take aboard the ship that floats on ABBubbles. No wonder they named it ABBA Voyage – it’s a very moving journey.
Set list highlights: New songs included for the 3rd anniversary show: Super Trouper, Money, Money, Money, The Name of The Game.
My highlights: Chiquitita, Summer Night City. My favourite ABBA song, Eagle, was played to an animation short, along with Voulez-Vous. Future songs I’d like hear: One Of Us, Under Attack. (ABBAsolutely I’m going again).
Notes for nerds – Dancing Queens: Elvis Costello was in attendance at the 3rd anniversary party. He was famously inspired by Dancing Queen and used descending octave piano chords for Oliver’s Army. The song also inspired the chorus of the Madness hit Shut Up, whose iconic piano flourish is a clear nod to ABBA’s style.
See ABBA Voyage, at Pudding Mill Lane, London, E15 2RU.
Julie Hamill writes novels, appears on Times Radio and does lots more. Follow her on Bluesky. OnLondon.co.uk provides unique coverage of the capital’s politics, development and culture with no paywall and no ads. The vast majority of its income comes from individual supporters, who pay £5 a month or £50 a year. They receive in return bespoke newsletters, bargain London event offers and much gratitude. Details HERE.