Monday, August 22, 2011

And Now for Something Completely Different

After getting that warning from the Ohio State Trooper for hugging the shoulder, we've turned tail and inched out way back home. We've parked the van, slipped back into the house, and gone to bed. Nothing left now but memories of that particular road trip.

That's how it ought to be, how it's meant to be. A thing is born, it lives, it dies.

Once gone, those left behind move on and, on occasion, "summon up remembrance of things past."

I'm lucky for the recollections I'll retain of working with two actors I'd never worked with before. Joe Seibert and Eli Grove gifted me with a sense of joy throughout the rehearsal process and a sense of awe as they became infallible in performance once the show had opened. Neither one of these young men ever made a false move or snatched the opportunity to ham it up for friends in the audience. They were always true to the text of their heart-breaking tale, a story built in brick by Jerrod Bogard.

Every theatre piece since All About Eve was first unspooled requires a Thelma Ritter character, and Hugging the Shoulder had one, too. She knows who she is, and she knows the gratitude I have for her and all she did for me.

What's left?

I have the photographs. I have the sound effects and the music used. I can always play that siren sound whenever I feel the need to annoy the neighbors, or I can wallow in the limpid waves of being so lonesome I could cry.

And, always at hand, there are the memories of those people who came to the play and were moved.

Not much to be left with, perhaps, but enough.

2 comments:

  1. I came to the play, and I was so moved. It was wonderful. 

    I also know that feeling when the thing that breathed so much life into yours has run its natural course, the melancholy mixed with gratitude that you had the experience at all, and wishing maybe that it could go on even when you know the ending is perfect and right. 

    So now, dear friend, you'll have to find another play to direct, actors who share your passion for the work, who become in the end like family. and you know what? maybe i'll be in that audience one night, trying to beam you some love to calm your nerves. oh, what a privilege it would be to see another play you helped give life, another child of your mind, heart, spirit, energy. love.

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  2. But first, I sleep. I sleep a lot. Then I pull myself together to start all over again, a newborn learning to crawl - again. Thank you again so much for your surprise appearance and for being so nice.

    ReplyDelete

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