I am the proud owner of my MCC tickets to both Grace and reasons to be pretty....a Christmas gift from C. Both plays have me shivering in anticipation of attending their performances, both won't disappoint, I'm sure.
There are a number of plays in the city I've yet to see, that I'm salivating to see... August: Osage County, Spamalot (yes, Spamalot), Spring Awakening, Billy Elliot, Come Back, Little Sheba. November...South Pacific, and, even Mary Poppins.
I never get around to it... time and that evil demon, money, keep me away. The above named shows are the main ones on the list, my secondary list is even longer...
Here I am, a TheaterJunkie.... who doesn't see theater. Something is so wrong with this picture! Films I can find... but, theater... beautiful, touching, feel the air resonate with the language and power and energy of the cast and audience theater...
I've put in for a few jobs I've found, in the hopes I can ease my way back into the business... I feel the urge to go back to the old company, to work another season... to get sawdust on my hands, and pull ropes and call cues... to be kept away from power tools.
I am a stickler for things being right... I'm the woman who wrote the producers of The Color Purple and chided them for using Reader's Digest Condensed Books as props for school books...I mean, come on, Oprah! I use the right props... this is New York, your prop master couldn't go to a book store to find the right look??
I look forward to sinking in my seat, seeing houselights go to half, then out... that first glimpse of movement...
It's where my heart lies, what makes me vibrate... framing a scene, not moving a camera over it... that static space, knowing you have to tell all in one place, one area... in words and gestures and expression; or lack of it.
I hadn't realised I miss it so much.... but, I do.
Our Neville Fact:
Our Neville wanted to go to Oxford. Sadly, his A level results were mixed up with Porter Bigsworthy's results, and Bigsworthy was asked down to interview and test. Neville went on to study in London, where he did receive his degree. He never forgave Mr. Harringstonford, whom he felt shuffled the grades deliberately, shunning him at every gathering of his school until Harringstonford's death when he was kicked by a horse he was attempting to mount (delicate cough) at the age of 70.