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Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Fruit and flowers and pavement! Wow!

My first night back in ol' NYC after being absent for almost ten years, I was stopped by a very drunk, yet delightful train wreck who had to give me a hug because my dress looked like a "taxi cab". And if that's not reason enough to love someone, then I don't know what is. Oh, New York. Do people living there ever realize how wonderful you? Every, every minute?
Yeah, guess who saw Our Town off broadway? Hey hey. If you live there, I would highly recommend catching the production. Shall we talk a moment about the play? I've probably seen the production more times than I care to admit; sat through Emilys that made you want to rip out your own entrails and choke your self to death; been made to read the play a ba-zillion times... and yet, now that I am older, I have a fondness for it that I certainly didn't have when I was in school. I thought the play too sugary sweet, that it was "safe" and "dated" and just "redouchulously boring". And then somewhere along the way, that changed. It is amazing how many earth shattering yet totally insignificant things can happen in one day. It is beautiful and ridiculous at the same time. I never thought much of why Mr. Wilder was so insistent that his play have no set, no props; this production brought it all to light.
Spoiler alert for those who intend to go see it. You've been warned. Emily dies. Oh!
But seriously, I don't want to give away how they handle it if you don't know and don't want to know.
So you go through the whole show with just two tables set up in this black box theatre and there is a black curtain covering the back wall upstage. The actors are in very general street clothes and minimal props are used. Cut to the end. Emily has died and wishes to go back for an day, an unimportant one (as you all well remember). She chooses her twelfth birthday. The stage manager pulls back the upstage curtain and you are introduced to the Webb's Real Kitchen. After sitting through over an hour with no set, you are instantly swept away by how beautiful the home actually is: there's frost on the windows where the sun is just peeking through, there is real bacon cooking on the stove and the smell immediately fills the theatre... you've spent an entire show in the kitchen, but you've never really seen it until now.
It was brilliant. Just gorgeous- and needless to say I wept like a baby. Okay, I complain. A lot (couch!!). And, yeah, life isn't easy- but goddammit, it is also unbelievably beautiful- every minute, every person, every place, every morning that I take for granted... It's impossible, but I need to try and keep my eyes open as much as I can, because there is so much I don't want to miss.
To scoot along to another topic, I'll briefly mention that I had a blast with the bf this weekend. There were straight up Woody Allen moments, for sure; I met some amazing and delightful people and returned to place that I once was determined to call home. It still may happen. I have a less than a year until my lease is up and then we'll go from there. We'll go from there, ya know?

1 comment:

joyful girl said...

yes. life is beautiful indeed. :) love you.