Recently I saw a fiftieth anniversary production of Harold Pinter's play "The Birthday Party" at the Lyric Hammersmith theater. Basically, fifty years ago his first full length play was produced there and received terrible reviews. Though it closed after only eight performances, one critic astutely predicted that both Pinter and his play would be heard of again. Now, fifty years and one Nobel Prize later, his seminal work is back onstage at the same theatre, playing to sold out crowds.
I can only imagine how it feels to be Harold Pinter right now. The worldwide theatre community will be eternally grateful that he did not let the negative reviews get to him. His incomparable style was evident in "The Birthday Party" and, likely, was the very thing the critics lampooned. It was unlike anything they'd seen before and they had nothing good to say about it. However, he didn't change a thing. He kept on writing courageously and pushing the envelope as he had so boldly done with his unsuccessful debut and it's only in hindsight that we can see the value in that.
Neil Labute came to speak to study abroad students about theatre and his career as a writer. He urged us to be courageous in the theatre. He spoke out against playwrights who write tidy plays with few actor and simple technical requirements simply so that they can be produced. He said that a playwright needs to have something to say and they need to bravely say it how they want it said. Good theatre, he insisted, cannot possibly come about without risks. Risks like those taken by Harold Pinter.
Me, I worry too much about what people say or what I'm afraid they'll think. When I sit down to write I have these obnoxious little voices in my head saying "I don't get it" or "That's not funny" or "I don't like the ending." Sadly, I've let this get to me far too much and I feel my writing has suffered as a result. I don't take risks and I am not fiercely committed to my own work. And the time has come to change. If I want to make any waves I have to get in the water. (Wow, what an obnoxious cliche...) Seeing great theatre here has made me recognize the risks that are ALWAYS involved and the sublime joy that comes when one of those risks really pays off.
Sunday, May 25, 2008
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Checkpoint Two
Alright, my theatre education continues...
A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM - This was a staging that made me feel completely differently about this script. It was imaginative but didn't shove anything don your throat. It goes to show that theatre really is about play.
THE BIRD SANCTUARY - This script was not my favorite. The dialogue was indicative and the plot made little sense at all. When I surrendered my personal taste and allowed it to remain what it was rather than living up to my expectations I enjoyed it a bit more. I learned from this that you need to start with a good script and that we all have different tastes. ("Time Out" loved this play...go figure.)
THE BIRTHDAY PARTY - The staying power of good writers! Take that, nay-sayers! I was so happy to see this production and learned what "Pinteresque" really means.
FRAM - What you say shouldn't be obscured y how you say it. What this play had to say was significant but the manner in which it went about it was painful to sit through. It certainly made me think, though, about what power (if any) that the arts have in tackling real issues.
HELLO AND GOODBYE - A tight script and strong performances are thrilling. This play was centered on a relationship and two people driving very hard for two different things. What is more basic than that? And what could be better?
MICHAEL FRAYN LECTURE - Don't be afraid of failure, work hard, have fun, keep your feet on the ground.
THE PITMEN PAINTERS - Being a part of the target audience is good. I wasn't a part of this play's target audience and it showed. However, it was a good show. I learned, though, not to make things too easy. Don't broadcast your agenda for all the world to see. Just explore a theme.
GONE WITH THE WIND - Ummmm...This just wasn't very good. I saw the importance of slowing down to let your characters talk and let the audience get to know them. Otherwise, frankly, no one gives a damn.
GOD OF CARNAGE - I love plays where interesting people are thrown into an intimate setting and a sort of cage match ensues. This makes for great drama. I also learned that some of the most interesting characters are those who build up walls that get torn down as the story progresses, letting you see glimpses at a time of the real person lurking below.
ASPECTS OF LOVE - A soaring score paired with a soap opera plot. It was beautiful but I felt a little irresponsible loving it as much as I did. The moral implications of the story were kind of repulsive but I got caught up in the music and enjoyed myself. I guess it goes to show the power of music, even to the point of being deceptive.
THE CHERRY ORCHARD - Chekhov needs to be slow! This show could have been great instead of good if they just took their time. It was very good though.
WICKED - This show demonstrated the commercialization of avant garde theatre movements of the last hundred years. It was a little disturbing even, seeing the principles of epic theatre, expressionism, and the like exploited so drastically. Still, it was a good show and I'll have to make fun of it a LITTLE less now.
LIFECOACH - This was a delightful sweet comedy that shows how comedy can mollify an audience an prepare them to receive a very meaningful message. Good times.
A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM - This was a staging that made me feel completely differently about this script. It was imaginative but didn't shove anything don your throat. It goes to show that theatre really is about play.
THE BIRD SANCTUARY - This script was not my favorite. The dialogue was indicative and the plot made little sense at all. When I surrendered my personal taste and allowed it to remain what it was rather than living up to my expectations I enjoyed it a bit more. I learned from this that you need to start with a good script and that we all have different tastes. ("Time Out" loved this play...go figure.)
THE BIRTHDAY PARTY - The staying power of good writers! Take that, nay-sayers! I was so happy to see this production and learned what "Pinteresque" really means.
FRAM - What you say shouldn't be obscured y how you say it. What this play had to say was significant but the manner in which it went about it was painful to sit through. It certainly made me think, though, about what power (if any) that the arts have in tackling real issues.
HELLO AND GOODBYE - A tight script and strong performances are thrilling. This play was centered on a relationship and two people driving very hard for two different things. What is more basic than that? And what could be better?
MICHAEL FRAYN LECTURE - Don't be afraid of failure, work hard, have fun, keep your feet on the ground.
THE PITMEN PAINTERS - Being a part of the target audience is good. I wasn't a part of this play's target audience and it showed. However, it was a good show. I learned, though, not to make things too easy. Don't broadcast your agenda for all the world to see. Just explore a theme.
GONE WITH THE WIND - Ummmm...This just wasn't very good. I saw the importance of slowing down to let your characters talk and let the audience get to know them. Otherwise, frankly, no one gives a damn.
GOD OF CARNAGE - I love plays where interesting people are thrown into an intimate setting and a sort of cage match ensues. This makes for great drama. I also learned that some of the most interesting characters are those who build up walls that get torn down as the story progresses, letting you see glimpses at a time of the real person lurking below.
ASPECTS OF LOVE - A soaring score paired with a soap opera plot. It was beautiful but I felt a little irresponsible loving it as much as I did. The moral implications of the story were kind of repulsive but I got caught up in the music and enjoyed myself. I guess it goes to show the power of music, even to the point of being deceptive.
THE CHERRY ORCHARD - Chekhov needs to be slow! This show could have been great instead of good if they just took their time. It was very good though.
WICKED - This show demonstrated the commercialization of avant garde theatre movements of the last hundred years. It was a little disturbing even, seeing the principles of epic theatre, expressionism, and the like exploited so drastically. Still, it was a good show and I'll have to make fun of it a LITTLE less now.
LIFECOACH - This was a delightful sweet comedy that shows how comedy can mollify an audience an prepare them to receive a very meaningful message. Good times.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
The Princess Complex
It’s an epidemic. It’s crippling beyond compare. And it’s preying on unsuspecting girls. The horror, the horror!
Yes, I know, I’m far too prone to dramatics, but I speak of the resurgence of mindless romance, of unchecked idealism, and of excessive “girly giggles.” I call it the “Princess Complex.”
Now, allow me to qualify this discussion. I obviously don’t want to be the pot calling the kettle black so I will be the first to admit that I suffer from a “Newsie Complex,” the condition of audacious little guys who want to change the world. I know several guys with a “Peter Pan Complex” or a “Charlie Brown Complex,” so no one is without fault here. But I digress.
So, what is the “Princess Complex?” As far as I can tell it operates on a foundation of boy-crazy giddiness that isn’t cute in bubbly preteens and is even less so in full-grown females. Those who suffer from this disorder see the world as a constant parade of distractions and obstacles blocking their view of whatever cute guys may be in the vicinity. The thing that gets them out of bed in the morning is the remote, magical possibility that “Someday My Prince Will Come” might be today. On special days they get to wear pretty dresses and entertain themselves dancing alone in front of the mirror. Aside from the pursuit of eye candy, their days are consumed by jewelry store windows, “Twilight” novels, salads with mandarin oranges and rose petals in them, and shows like “Gillmore Girls” and “Charmed.” They read Jane Austen, oblivious to the fact that she was making fun of them, and wait patiently for Mr. Darcy to come along and engage her in witty banter. Indeed, the life of the would-be princess is a simple one, a disconcerting cocktail of romance, idealism, and entitlement, wrapped up in a safely sanitized pretty pink bow.
Not that there is anything wrong with pretty dresses or Jane Austen (though I stick by my “Twilight” claim), but this unhealthy fixation must stop. “Enchanted” was fiction. Princess Aurora is not an acceptable role model. And princes don’t grown on trees. I suppose we can’t blame them. After all, they were raised to believe that someone would always come to their rescue, that happily ever after was a given, and that fairy godmothers, not hard work and inspiration, accomplished the impossible. We’re products of our generation, I’m afraid, and mine has produced more than its fair share of the aforementioned offending “girly giggles.” They ring in my ears, heralding the triumph of fluff in eclipsing good judgment, independence, and individual thought. Heaven help us all.
Yes, I know, I’m far too prone to dramatics, but I speak of the resurgence of mindless romance, of unchecked idealism, and of excessive “girly giggles.” I call it the “Princess Complex.”
Now, allow me to qualify this discussion. I obviously don’t want to be the pot calling the kettle black so I will be the first to admit that I suffer from a “Newsie Complex,” the condition of audacious little guys who want to change the world. I know several guys with a “Peter Pan Complex” or a “Charlie Brown Complex,” so no one is without fault here. But I digress.
So, what is the “Princess Complex?” As far as I can tell it operates on a foundation of boy-crazy giddiness that isn’t cute in bubbly preteens and is even less so in full-grown females. Those who suffer from this disorder see the world as a constant parade of distractions and obstacles blocking their view of whatever cute guys may be in the vicinity. The thing that gets them out of bed in the morning is the remote, magical possibility that “Someday My Prince Will Come” might be today. On special days they get to wear pretty dresses and entertain themselves dancing alone in front of the mirror. Aside from the pursuit of eye candy, their days are consumed by jewelry store windows, “Twilight” novels, salads with mandarin oranges and rose petals in them, and shows like “Gillmore Girls” and “Charmed.” They read Jane Austen, oblivious to the fact that she was making fun of them, and wait patiently for Mr. Darcy to come along and engage her in witty banter. Indeed, the life of the would-be princess is a simple one, a disconcerting cocktail of romance, idealism, and entitlement, wrapped up in a safely sanitized pretty pink bow.
Not that there is anything wrong with pretty dresses or Jane Austen (though I stick by my “Twilight” claim), but this unhealthy fixation must stop. “Enchanted” was fiction. Princess Aurora is not an acceptable role model. And princes don’t grown on trees. I suppose we can’t blame them. After all, they were raised to believe that someone would always come to their rescue, that happily ever after was a given, and that fairy godmothers, not hard work and inspiration, accomplished the impossible. We’re products of our generation, I’m afraid, and mine has produced more than its fair share of the aforementioned offending “girly giggles.” They ring in my ears, heralding the triumph of fluff in eclipsing good judgment, independence, and individual thought. Heaven help us all.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Checkpoint One
Well, I've been here for two weeks now and have so far seen NINETEEN shows. I've experienced a lot of what London has to offer as well, but I really came here first and foremost for the theatre. I haven't talked much about the things I've seen so far but I've learned more about theatre in these two weeks than any classes could teach me. Here's a quick recap of my education so far...
BILLY ELLIOT - This show showed me the electricity that can be generated from one performance and renewed my faith in child actors. It was inspiring but still light and was undeniably fun.
THE 39 STEPS - Oh, the wonders you can do with four actors and a minimal set. This honestly was an extremely fun night at the theatre and it did not rely on anything flashy or excessive. This show made me think that if the bare bones can be this good on their own, why do we worry so much about dressing them up?
SMALL CHANGE - Another very minimalist production, but one that took my breath away. It was incredible to see what four actors and four chairs could do to an audience. The poetic language seemed to envelop us and kept me on the edge of my seat trying desperately to grasp some small piece of what I was seeing. This was great theatre.
THE LOVER AND THE COLLECTION - And it gets better. This was not only a masterfully written play, but it was staged so beautifully and acted so brilliantly. The subtext was dealt with so subtly but everything was ultimately so clear because of focused writing and brutally sharp performances.
RICHARD III - This showed me that new life can be breathed into Shakespeare without bastardizing the original text. And it called attention to the absolute betrayal you feel when you are no longer a passive observer.
INTO THE HOODS - Joy in theatre comes from not trying to be more than you are.
SLEEPING BEAUTY - The sheer brilliance and emotional cleansing that comes from pure aesthetic beauty.
WAR AND PEACE PARTS 1 AND 2 - First, don't try to pack a 1000 page novel into a night of theatre unless you're up to the task. Second, unless you have a lot to offer, do not have the audacity to ask six hours of your audience to tell a story that would have been better told if someone had read the CliffsNotes of Tolstoy's novel aloud from the stage. Also, a weak show can be kept afloat by stunning images. But not for six hours.
VISITING MR. GREEN - Obvious affectation murders an otherwise solid performance. And a lazy actor who skims over the subtext of a scene gives a shallow performance. I could see what was going on in the script but didn't get that from the performance.
THE YEAR OF MAGICAL THINKING - This production showed me just how potent a single performance can be. Vanessa Redgrave took me to so many places just sitting in a chair center stage. I was also stunned by the brutal honesty of the writing. Simplicity and a lack of pretension kept this show from becoming heavy handed and unbearable.
KING LEAR - Seeing a Shakespeare play in the Globe made me think differently about Shakespeare's writing style. I know why he wrote how he did and how, in this space, his text really comes to life. Everyone who stages Shakespeare should have a clear understanding of the environment in which he worked. It all makes so much sense now.
HAPPY NOW - Witty banter is good fun but it keeps a narrative pretty superficial. I wondered sometimes if I was at the National Theatre of sitting at home watching an episode of "Will and Grace." The play undertook to deal with some cool issues but you had to break through the icy wall of cleverness to get to any honesty or humanity.
MARGUERITE - The first act appealed to the hopeless romantic in me and I loved it enough to overlook its shortcomings. Act Two slipped a bit more, but the musical embodiment of rapturous infatuation was incredibly pleasurable.
CHESS IN CONCERT - Again, great music gets your heart pounding like nothing else. And again, great performances can be incredibly thrilling.
NEVER SO GOOD - We always write for a specific audience. I didn't not quite get this play because it relied on British political history. I also realized that I much prefer intimate dramas to wide-reaching ambition projects.
PYGMALION - There was nothing innovative about this production. But it was riveting. It's humbling to realize again that they knew a thing or two back in the day.
SPAMALOT - Theatre can be FUN! Who knew?
BILLY ELLIOT - This show showed me the electricity that can be generated from one performance and renewed my faith in child actors. It was inspiring but still light and was undeniably fun.
THE 39 STEPS - Oh, the wonders you can do with four actors and a minimal set. This honestly was an extremely fun night at the theatre and it did not rely on anything flashy or excessive. This show made me think that if the bare bones can be this good on their own, why do we worry so much about dressing them up?
SMALL CHANGE - Another very minimalist production, but one that took my breath away. It was incredible to see what four actors and four chairs could do to an audience. The poetic language seemed to envelop us and kept me on the edge of my seat trying desperately to grasp some small piece of what I was seeing. This was great theatre.
THE LOVER AND THE COLLECTION - And it gets better. This was not only a masterfully written play, but it was staged so beautifully and acted so brilliantly. The subtext was dealt with so subtly but everything was ultimately so clear because of focused writing and brutally sharp performances.
RICHARD III - This showed me that new life can be breathed into Shakespeare without bastardizing the original text. And it called attention to the absolute betrayal you feel when you are no longer a passive observer.
INTO THE HOODS - Joy in theatre comes from not trying to be more than you are.
SLEEPING BEAUTY - The sheer brilliance and emotional cleansing that comes from pure aesthetic beauty.
WAR AND PEACE PARTS 1 AND 2 - First, don't try to pack a 1000 page novel into a night of theatre unless you're up to the task. Second, unless you have a lot to offer, do not have the audacity to ask six hours of your audience to tell a story that would have been better told if someone had read the CliffsNotes of Tolstoy's novel aloud from the stage. Also, a weak show can be kept afloat by stunning images. But not for six hours.
VISITING MR. GREEN - Obvious affectation murders an otherwise solid performance. And a lazy actor who skims over the subtext of a scene gives a shallow performance. I could see what was going on in the script but didn't get that from the performance.
THE YEAR OF MAGICAL THINKING - This production showed me just how potent a single performance can be. Vanessa Redgrave took me to so many places just sitting in a chair center stage. I was also stunned by the brutal honesty of the writing. Simplicity and a lack of pretension kept this show from becoming heavy handed and unbearable.
KING LEAR - Seeing a Shakespeare play in the Globe made me think differently about Shakespeare's writing style. I know why he wrote how he did and how, in this space, his text really comes to life. Everyone who stages Shakespeare should have a clear understanding of the environment in which he worked. It all makes so much sense now.
HAPPY NOW - Witty banter is good fun but it keeps a narrative pretty superficial. I wondered sometimes if I was at the National Theatre of sitting at home watching an episode of "Will and Grace." The play undertook to deal with some cool issues but you had to break through the icy wall of cleverness to get to any honesty or humanity.
MARGUERITE - The first act appealed to the hopeless romantic in me and I loved it enough to overlook its shortcomings. Act Two slipped a bit more, but the musical embodiment of rapturous infatuation was incredibly pleasurable.
CHESS IN CONCERT - Again, great music gets your heart pounding like nothing else. And again, great performances can be incredibly thrilling.
NEVER SO GOOD - We always write for a specific audience. I didn't not quite get this play because it relied on British political history. I also realized that I much prefer intimate dramas to wide-reaching ambition projects.
PYGMALION - There was nothing innovative about this production. But it was riveting. It's humbling to realize again that they knew a thing or two back in the day.
SPAMALOT - Theatre can be FUN! Who knew?
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Tate Modern
My life was changed by the Tate Modern Art Museum. Honestly, I didn't expect to have the rich experience that I did. I walked past works by Jackson Pollock, Matisse, Monet, Picasso, and the like and found the experience quite emotionally exhausting. I sat in a room with six large paintings by Gerhard Richter for about thirty minutes, completely enthralled by what I was seeing. My hand started itching for a pen so I pulled out a notebook and let my thoughts spill out onto the page. I'll spare you most of the introspective musings but I will tell you this: I left that gallery with a much greater understanding of what art is but, at the same time, more confused than ever.
Modern art is infuriating. Really, nothing is more frustrating than not "getting it." It's right there, you see what everyone else sees, but you don't understand. Understand...What does that word even mean? It's a picture, what's to "understand?" Well, why did someone paint it? Why is it hanging here? And why can't I seem to get off this bench? But what happens when we really understand it? I suppose it's a meeting of me and the work I'm trying to understand but which one surrenders? Is it an effort to rationally compartmentalize what I'm observing? Does everything have to fit within the framework that I've set up for myself? Is "understanding" that fitting? No wonder I feel like I don't "understand..."
Or is it different? Is it acceptance? Is it a a bending, an adjustment of what I know, what I'm capable of, and the fitting of my own mind to the reality presented in front of me? Do I appreciate art because it speaks to an existing piece of me and reinforces that concept of who I am? Or is it because it is outside of me and I have to reach. Or, perhaps, I don't think I can reach that far. But I stretch, I grow, I become more.
It's absurd for me to assume that I can take everything in, that everything I see will fit into the entity that is Matthew. How arrogant! Understand? How can I? I haven't breathed the artist's breath or been through what brought him to this canvas. So how can I get anything out of what I see? Do I become him, as best I can? Is this why he created this? Is this why I create? Is this why God creates? Did the artist hope I would find a piece of myself in this piece or did he hope that I would find a piece of him? Can I find that, make it a part of myself?
That's it! That's why I go to art museums. That's why I go to the theatre. That's why I love experiencing and creating art! I become more. And when I create, I hopefully share something with the hopeless kids who sit, glued to benches, enraptured by the wonders they behold and infuriated by what is just beyond their grasp.
Modern art is infuriating. Really, nothing is more frustrating than not "getting it." It's right there, you see what everyone else sees, but you don't understand. Understand...What does that word even mean? It's a picture, what's to "understand?" Well, why did someone paint it? Why is it hanging here? And why can't I seem to get off this bench? But what happens when we really understand it? I suppose it's a meeting of me and the work I'm trying to understand but which one surrenders? Is it an effort to rationally compartmentalize what I'm observing? Does everything have to fit within the framework that I've set up for myself? Is "understanding" that fitting? No wonder I feel like I don't "understand..."
Or is it different? Is it acceptance? Is it a a bending, an adjustment of what I know, what I'm capable of, and the fitting of my own mind to the reality presented in front of me? Do I appreciate art because it speaks to an existing piece of me and reinforces that concept of who I am? Or is it because it is outside of me and I have to reach. Or, perhaps, I don't think I can reach that far. But I stretch, I grow, I become more.
It's absurd for me to assume that I can take everything in, that everything I see will fit into the entity that is Matthew. How arrogant! Understand? How can I? I haven't breathed the artist's breath or been through what brought him to this canvas. So how can I get anything out of what I see? Do I become him, as best I can? Is this why he created this? Is this why I create? Is this why God creates? Did the artist hope I would find a piece of myself in this piece or did he hope that I would find a piece of him? Can I find that, make it a part of myself?
That's it! That's why I go to art museums. That's why I go to the theatre. That's why I love experiencing and creating art! I become more. And when I create, I hopefully share something with the hopeless kids who sit, glued to benches, enraptured by the wonders they behold and infuriated by what is just beyond their grasp.
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Grow up, will ya?
A rant...
Okay. So the show we saw was not very good. So it was seven hours long. So some parts of it are downright laughable. So we're enthusiastic college students and we enjoy one another's company. But could we please stop acting like children?
I refer to several people who are a part of the Study Abroad program who seem to have no grasp on theatre etiquette or, really, any manners at all. At one point during tonight's performance of "War and Peace" there was a particularly brash non sequitur that took us all off-guard and sabotaged an already weak production. Now, class, what do we do at a moment like this? Sit still and shut up. Theatre is a communal experience and there is a certain degree of trust that goes into the gathering of audience and performers into an intimate space. A part of that unspoken agreement concerns your bridling of all obnoxious reactions. I was biting down on my hand to keep from laughing but a few choice girls who will remain nameless seemed to have no qualms whatsoever with regards to their incessant girly giggles. Heads turned, throats were cleared, and I wished I was with another group. My friend shared my embarrassment as did several others.
The same thing happened in "Richard III." At the emotional climax of an intense and magnificently acted scene between Richard and Elizabeth, Richard pulled her close and, to but it simply, kissed the life out of her. It was incredible and my heart was pumping, my veins flooded with the adrenaline that only comes in the heat of a great theatrical moment such as this. This was interrupted by the groans and giggles of many from our group. I suppose if it's not Giselle and Edward in "Enchanted," we are just not capable of handling a kissing scene. Yes, well, what did you expect? Did you really think the Royal Shakespeare Company was going to come sanitized for your protection? Did you think that theatre, real legitimate theatre, wouldn't ever make you uncomfortable? That's what art is! A disruption! Sometimes it's exceptionally beautiful but sometimes it's exceptionally painful or tragic or uncomfortable...What's important is that it's exceptional! And, oh, it is!
Now, I understand that I don't have the same taste as everyone else and that we don't all share the same interests on this trip (though I wonder what attracted some of these students to the London THEATRE program in the first place), BUT I think we're all mature enough to behave ourselves. Whether it's the utter brilliance of "Richard III" or the lackluster, unending saga that was "War and Peace," we can all be grown-ups about it.
Okay. So the show we saw was not very good. So it was seven hours long. So some parts of it are downright laughable. So we're enthusiastic college students and we enjoy one another's company. But could we please stop acting like children?
I refer to several people who are a part of the Study Abroad program who seem to have no grasp on theatre etiquette or, really, any manners at all. At one point during tonight's performance of "War and Peace" there was a particularly brash non sequitur that took us all off-guard and sabotaged an already weak production. Now, class, what do we do at a moment like this? Sit still and shut up. Theatre is a communal experience and there is a certain degree of trust that goes into the gathering of audience and performers into an intimate space. A part of that unspoken agreement concerns your bridling of all obnoxious reactions. I was biting down on my hand to keep from laughing but a few choice girls who will remain nameless seemed to have no qualms whatsoever with regards to their incessant girly giggles. Heads turned, throats were cleared, and I wished I was with another group. My friend shared my embarrassment as did several others.
The same thing happened in "Richard III." At the emotional climax of an intense and magnificently acted scene between Richard and Elizabeth, Richard pulled her close and, to but it simply, kissed the life out of her. It was incredible and my heart was pumping, my veins flooded with the adrenaline that only comes in the heat of a great theatrical moment such as this. This was interrupted by the groans and giggles of many from our group. I suppose if it's not Giselle and Edward in "Enchanted," we are just not capable of handling a kissing scene. Yes, well, what did you expect? Did you really think the Royal Shakespeare Company was going to come sanitized for your protection? Did you think that theatre, real legitimate theatre, wouldn't ever make you uncomfortable? That's what art is! A disruption! Sometimes it's exceptionally beautiful but sometimes it's exceptionally painful or tragic or uncomfortable...What's important is that it's exceptional! And, oh, it is!
Now, I understand that I don't have the same taste as everyone else and that we don't all share the same interests on this trip (though I wonder what attracted some of these students to the London THEATRE program in the first place), BUT I think we're all mature enough to behave ourselves. Whether it's the utter brilliance of "Richard III" or the lackluster, unending saga that was "War and Peace," we can all be grown-ups about it.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
If ballerinas ruled the world...
Tonight we went to to the Royal Opera House and saw a performance of "Sleeping Beauty" which really was absolutely wonderful. I had some misgivings, I suppose, not because I dislike ballet, but perhaps because there are so many things to see that I would rather stick to performances that are more my cup of tea. I don't know much about ballet. I don't know when it's good, I don't know when it's bad (within reason, of course). All I know is that it's impressive and pretty. And I figured that's all you need to know.
"Sleeping Beauty" has a simple plot. Girl falls asleep, boy kisses girl, and happily ever after. We sat in the theatre, however, for three and a half hours watching a group of insanely talented performers wow us with the most enjoyable beating of the dead horse that I have ever seen. (By the way, a ballet based on several tutu-clad ballerinas actually beating a dead horse would be quite fun to watch. Maybe I'll write that...)
I think all ballet is by definition quite indulgent which perhaps is why we love it. We don't eat cheesecake because it's good for us and we don't go to the ballet to be mentally stimulated. We go to witness something gorgeous, something whose beauty transcends the simple plots and the overt theatricality of the performance. Sitting there being surrounded by Tchaikovsky's music and witness to feats that should be impossible for the human body, I realized how essential the tenets of ballet are for each of us to live a healthy, balanced life. Perhaps one of the reasons why I'm so delighted by tonight's performance is because I think there's a lot we can learn from the ballet. For example:
1. Simplicity. Something simple but still well-done is worth a thousand overly pretentious dramas, misguided Shakespeares, or overly indulgent comedies.
2. An appreciation of nature. Looking at these dancers I saw flowers blooming and waves crashing and wondered why I spend so many hours pent up inside.
3. Aestheticism. Some things are just pretty. And that's it. And that's okay. (Exhibit A: Jessica Alba.)
4. Romance. If a magical fairy wants to lead me to a sleeping princess who can only be awakened by my kiss, that's fine with me. Bring it on.
5. Beauty. God blessed His children with talents and it's an utter delight to sit back with your opera glasses and take it all in. Genius is inspiring.
So, the ballet was great. I was right, I didn't appreciate it like I appreciated "Small Change" or the Pinter plays. But it was a different experience. (And, be fair, who can beat a matinée of a Pinter play on the West End? And, by the way, yesterday I saw a piece of Mahler. Sort of.) I would recommend it to anyone. Almost.
"Sleeping Beauty" has a simple plot. Girl falls asleep, boy kisses girl, and happily ever after. We sat in the theatre, however, for three and a half hours watching a group of insanely talented performers wow us with the most enjoyable beating of the dead horse that I have ever seen. (By the way, a ballet based on several tutu-clad ballerinas actually beating a dead horse would be quite fun to watch. Maybe I'll write that...)
I think all ballet is by definition quite indulgent which perhaps is why we love it. We don't eat cheesecake because it's good for us and we don't go to the ballet to be mentally stimulated. We go to witness something gorgeous, something whose beauty transcends the simple plots and the overt theatricality of the performance. Sitting there being surrounded by Tchaikovsky's music and witness to feats that should be impossible for the human body, I realized how essential the tenets of ballet are for each of us to live a healthy, balanced life. Perhaps one of the reasons why I'm so delighted by tonight's performance is because I think there's a lot we can learn from the ballet. For example:
1. Simplicity. Something simple but still well-done is worth a thousand overly pretentious dramas, misguided Shakespeares, or overly indulgent comedies.
2. An appreciation of nature. Looking at these dancers I saw flowers blooming and waves crashing and wondered why I spend so many hours pent up inside.
3. Aestheticism. Some things are just pretty. And that's it. And that's okay. (Exhibit A: Jessica Alba.)
4. Romance. If a magical fairy wants to lead me to a sleeping princess who can only be awakened by my kiss, that's fine with me. Bring it on.
5. Beauty. God blessed His children with talents and it's an utter delight to sit back with your opera glasses and take it all in. Genius is inspiring.
So, the ballet was great. I was right, I didn't appreciate it like I appreciated "Small Change" or the Pinter plays. But it was a different experience. (And, be fair, who can beat a matinée of a Pinter play on the West End? And, by the way, yesterday I saw a piece of Mahler. Sort of.) I would recommend it to anyone. Almost.
Saturday, May 3, 2008
I heart good theatre.
Honestly, I feel like I've been in the wrong places my whole life. This city is full of wonderful theatre. I've seen six shows so far, all of which have been incredible theatrical experiences. The first two were previously mentioned. Last night I saw "Small Change" at the Donmar warehouse which was absolutely beautiful. I felt like fully grasping and comprehending that play is like trying to get a drink of water from a fire hose. There was so much to take in and it was a very enriching experience.
This afternoon we saw a matinee of two Pinter plays: "The Lover" and "The Collection." Pinter is one of my favorite playwrights and today's performances reaffirmed that love. He is incredible. Then we saw the RSC's production of "Richard III" which took me places I didn't think Shakespearian histories could. I'm not quite able to formulate an intelligible response to what I saw. It was simply (and literally) breathtaking.
There are some girls on this trip who have heard a few choice remarks escape my lips out of context who I am afraid seem to think I am some edgy, rebellious maverick which simply is not the case. (I'm sure most of my closest acquaintances could attest to that.) Hopefully soon they'll realize how utterly dull I really am. Then all will be well.
London contiues to astound me with its universal beauty and high "coolness factor" and I am so happy to be here. Life is good. Next week: more shows!
This afternoon we saw a matinee of two Pinter plays: "The Lover" and "The Collection." Pinter is one of my favorite playwrights and today's performances reaffirmed that love. He is incredible. Then we saw the RSC's production of "Richard III" which took me places I didn't think Shakespearian histories could. I'm not quite able to formulate an intelligible response to what I saw. It was simply (and literally) breathtaking.
There are some girls on this trip who have heard a few choice remarks escape my lips out of context who I am afraid seem to think I am some edgy, rebellious maverick which simply is not the case. (I'm sure most of my closest acquaintances could attest to that.) Hopefully soon they'll realize how utterly dull I really am. Then all will be well.
London contiues to astound me with its universal beauty and high "coolness factor" and I am so happy to be here. Life is good. Next week: more shows!
Thursday, May 1, 2008
"Billy Elliot" and my first day IN London...
It seems this website posts my entries with the time in Provo. Oh well. I don't care enough to change it.
Today was my first day spent entirely in London. Classes will be nice. Nothing life-changing or anything, but it'll be cool. Hey, it's six units. I was happy to see that I got a 3.9 GPA last semester. This means I won't lose my job with Freshman Academy. (It wasn't really a concern but it's good to know it doesn't have to be.) I rode the Tube 10 times today. Talk about starting out with a bang. i feel relatively confident doing the stuff I want to do. Anything I'm unsure of I can just figure out as I go along.
Now to business: "Billy Elliot" changed my life! Okay, a little dramatic there. But I honestly was BLOWN AWAY! The little kid who played Billy was a phenomenal performer and has reaffirmed my faith in theatre. The show was not without its problems but moments of it were so brilliant that I forgave its obvious shortcomings. I could go into a full review of the show but that would be self-serving and not very interesting. I was so touched by the theme of pursuing your dreams and escaping the monotony of life through art. If you ever, EVER have an opportunity to see it, don't hesitate.
"The 39 Steps" was a fully enjoyable evening of theatre as well. Not much to say about that, other than the fact that I loved it. London theatre is wonderful. I am so deliriously happy.
Today was my first day spent entirely in London. Classes will be nice. Nothing life-changing or anything, but it'll be cool. Hey, it's six units. I was happy to see that I got a 3.9 GPA last semester. This means I won't lose my job with Freshman Academy. (It wasn't really a concern but it's good to know it doesn't have to be.) I rode the Tube 10 times today. Talk about starting out with a bang. i feel relatively confident doing the stuff I want to do. Anything I'm unsure of I can just figure out as I go along.
Now to business: "Billy Elliot" changed my life! Okay, a little dramatic there. But I honestly was BLOWN AWAY! The little kid who played Billy was a phenomenal performer and has reaffirmed my faith in theatre. The show was not without its problems but moments of it were so brilliant that I forgave its obvious shortcomings. I could go into a full review of the show but that would be self-serving and not very interesting. I was so touched by the theme of pursuing your dreams and escaping the monotony of life through art. If you ever, EVER have an opportunity to see it, don't hesitate.
"The 39 Steps" was a fully enjoyable evening of theatre as well. Not much to say about that, other than the fact that I loved it. London theatre is wonderful. I am so deliriously happy.
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