Apparently many people around the world saw a blood moon this morning.
I saw condos.
As a teenager I would spend hours in the backyard, looking up at the night sky (yes, I did think that was fun).
With binoculars & star chart in hand, I would endeavour to identify constellations and planets and satellites and even the space shuttle when in orbit. I would stare endlessly at the moon, thinking about how astronauts had been there, and letting my mind wander further into the sci-fi realm…what if there were aliens hiding there? Perhaps a ship on the other side, invisible to human technology. Oh, my full-throttle imagination could (and still does!) think about those things for ages.
But anyway, there was this moon thing going on last night, or in my case; early this morning. Here in Toronto we had a very small window to view it, just over half an hour from the start until it would be swallowed up by the daylight.
So I was quite disappointed last night upon checking the weather reports, to find out that we were forecast to be cloudy/rainy at the specified time. Meteorologists on the various late-night news broadcasts assured me that was definitely the case, so that, I thought…was that.
When my alarm went off at 6am, I did the usual ‘hit snooze and turn on the TV‘, allowing myself those extra nine minutes to gradually wake up while listening to to the local Breakfast Television team.
Instead, I literally jumped out of bed when I heard them crowing about clear skies and ‘moon-cams’.
Never mind that I should be in the shower & getting ready for work…I was on a mission! Living downtown in a huge, bright city means I rarely get to participate in anything celestial…but the moon…hey, I can see the moon!
First stop - my 14th floor balcony. I quickly realised that my north-facing apartment didn’t allow me to see far enough to the west. No problem. With Frankie and Kevin on the TV telling me we had about 10 minutes until it was in full ‘blood’, I threw on some clothes and flip flops, grabbed keys and phone, and headed outside. We used to have a lovely roof deck that would have been perfect, but it’s now a forest of cell phone towers and therefore off limits to us mere residents. So street level it would have to be. No matter, I should still be able to see the moon from the end of my street, between the buildings. Shouldn’t I?
Full of optimism, down the elevator I went. I walked to the corner, and…nothing. Just a new condo building blocking that view. Okay, next corner - and another condo. A further block, another building in the way.
Desperation and reality was setting in. The sky to the east was beginning to brighten with the coming dawn. I was now several blocks from home, and knew I had to go back and get ready for work asap. But, just one more block, surely…nope. Just the proverbial condo, this time with a construction crane adding to the vista. And now I really had to hustle back.
To properly set the scene, you need to know that I’m somewhat immobilised at the moment. I’ve got a couple of broken toes and am sort of hobbling around. And because I’m not walking properly, my already dodgy knee isn’t happy either and stiffens up. So the end result: when I try to move quickly, I sort of lurch along. Add this to the fact that I was wearing mis-matched clothes, had barely run a comb through my hair, and was staring up at the sky almost the entire time…well I must have been quite the sight.
No doubt the early-riser business people and dog walkers I passed had good reason for giving me strange looks at every turn.
Unfortunately, realising this just gave me the giggles…which understandably elicited several more looks. I swear one woman moved her dog away from me while we were waiting at the crosswalk.
Anyway, I made it home without incident, showered and even with a subway delay I got to work in record time; now looking like a human being instead of an extra from a low budget zombie film.
I never did see the moon. But I did realise how much I miss it.
Toronto, 08 October 2014
Wednesday, 8 October 2014
Sunday, 28 September 2014
Memories of Bowie - now & then
I am a David Bowie fan…a huge Bowie fan, and have been for more years than some of my readers have probably been alive. So when it was announced that the touring exhibit “David Bowie is…” would be installed at the AGO (Art Gallery of Ontario) in the autumn of 2013 - as the second stop after the opening in London - to say I was thrilled would be something of an understatement.
Unfortunately, circumstances kept me from attending until the final weekend, but when I finally made it I was enthralled. The experience brought back so many memories of albums I’d listened to, films and videos I’d seen, and concerts I’d attended over the years.
The experience was more than worth the wait.
A couple of weeks ago, Toronto-based actor Ted Whittall (a member of the Department of Theatre at Toronto’s York University) posted a link to an essay he’d written for one of the school’s publications: http://www.yorku.ca/intent/issue7/articles/edwardwhittall.php
Entitled “David Bowie is… Hyperreal”, his paper used the exhibit as the backdrop to a fascinating discussion of ‘performance’, as it related to the artist, the surroundings and the audience…both in literal and abstract terms.
While reading it, one paragraph struck a particular chord with me. In discussing the staging of the exhibit and how the physical act of moving through it was similar to moving through Bowie’s career, Whittall writes that it did: “…give us the feeling that we are involved in a live event.”
Yes! You hit the nail squarely on the head there Ted, that was exactly how I’d felt. However, it also struck me that the one part of the exhibit that demonstrated this to me more than any other…hadn’t been mentioned in the essay. It had such a profound effect on me that almost a year later I can still close my eyes and be right back in the moment.
To explain: The final hall of the exhibit was one of the largest; high-ceilinged, with giant video screens making up three of the walls, and a number of seats and blocks that the patrons - the “audience” - could sit or lean against. Some of Bowie’s concert costumes from various eras were displayed around the edges, and more were ensconced in alcoves behind the video screens, lighting up randomly for a split second here and there.
The video screens were doing what you’d expect - playing clips of concert footage - but in a clever twist, would each be playing clips of the same song from different eras through Bowie’s career; for instance, the middle screen might have a modern performance, the left side one from the 70’s, and the right side one from the 90’s.
Of course, only one soundtrack played at the time, but it had been put together well enough that what we were listening to still ‘fit’ with whichever of the screens you chose to look at.
Adding to the magic; when I entered the room “Heroes’ was playing. Now, if this isn’t one of the most well-known, crowd-rousing songs of Bowie’s career, inclusive of fans and non-fans alike…I defy you to give me another. Did I say it was magic? It was.
We - meaning everyone - whether you knew the person next to you or not - were completely caught up in it all, as we swayed, smiled at each other, clapped & even sang along…not at all unlike being at an actual live performance.
The ‘performance’ would loop through several songs (all from different eras and concerts) for about 30 minutes, then start again. Most people seemed to be staying at least through an entire loop.
So what had initially seemed to be a real misfortune and disadvantage (going to the exhibit on a very busy Saturday afternoon, forced to shuffle along and crane my neck to see half the items from behind the crowds), had suddenly become a huge advantage.
Perhaps this is why Mr Whittall didn’t experience it - or at least not in a way that brought it to mind when writing the paper. Perhaps he went at a quieter time, and the crowds were needed to bring the whole effect to life?
Was it intentional? I have no idea; but even if not, it was certainly a glorious byproduct of the experience.
It certainly had me in a rather joyful mood as I entered the ubiquitous gift shop…exactly what the exhibit was hoping for, I’m sure!
The marquee signs for the exhibit proclaimed: “David Bowie is… here.” Well for those 30 minutes or so, he certainly was.
Who knows, maybe it was just me, the stars aligning just so to recall my concert experiences, and put me right back in one…but I don’t think so. Enough other people around me seemed to be enjoying it in much the same way.
In fact, taking it a step further, I would say that for those minutes we were as much a part of the performance - of the exhibit - as we were the audience.
Writing this has made me remember another time when Bowie’s audience became the performance - but this time, Bowie was there, for real.
Glasgow, 28 November 2003 (almost exactly a decade to the day before I saw the exhibit). Bowie was playing the SECC as part of his “A Reality Tour”. I was there, it was the last of 5 concerts I’d been to on my own little Bowie tour over-the-pond with some friends (Dublin, London & now Glasgow). The crowd was a little bit more ‘enthusiastic’ than some others (gotta love the Scots!) and we were getting jostled a wee bit in our spot down right in front of the stage, but generally everyone was happy and Bowie was most definitely in fine form.
Sometime after the midway point, Bowie was messing around at the other end of the stage when the band started the next song: “Starman”. This 1972 song was a HUGE hit in the UK and you could literally feel the buzz in the crowd as the opening chords began. Bowie, meanwhile, was beginning to make his way back to his microphone, but not quickly enough.
No problem. The crowd stepped in. In one voice, we were all singing the opening line, nearly finishing it before Bowie made it back to centre stage. There was a brief hesitation on his part as the band looked at him, wondering if he wanted them to start over (something Bowie was wont to do on occasion).
But instead, he shook his head at the band and just stood there, listening to the audience for the next few words and looking really chuffed, until he eventually joined in and sang the rest of the song…with us. It became a literal sing-a-long, and at the end Bowie was clapping for us, instead of the other way around. It was quite a moment.
As I finish this up, I’m now listening to my bootleg of that same Glasgow show…and happy memories are flooding back all over the place…just as they did last autumn at the AGO exhibit.
Thank you David Bowie, thank you AGO, and thank you Ted Whittall for writing the paper that sparked all this!
Toronto, 28 September 2014
Unfortunately, circumstances kept me from attending until the final weekend, but when I finally made it I was enthralled. The experience brought back so many memories of albums I’d listened to, films and videos I’d seen, and concerts I’d attended over the years.
The experience was more than worth the wait.
A couple of weeks ago, Toronto-based actor Ted Whittall (a member of the Department of Theatre at Toronto’s York University) posted a link to an essay he’d written for one of the school’s publications: http://www.yorku.ca/intent/issue7/articles/edwardwhittall.php
Entitled “David Bowie is… Hyperreal”, his paper used the exhibit as the backdrop to a fascinating discussion of ‘performance’, as it related to the artist, the surroundings and the audience…both in literal and abstract terms.
While reading it, one paragraph struck a particular chord with me. In discussing the staging of the exhibit and how the physical act of moving through it was similar to moving through Bowie’s career, Whittall writes that it did: “…give us the feeling that we are involved in a live event.”
Yes! You hit the nail squarely on the head there Ted, that was exactly how I’d felt. However, it also struck me that the one part of the exhibit that demonstrated this to me more than any other…hadn’t been mentioned in the essay. It had such a profound effect on me that almost a year later I can still close my eyes and be right back in the moment.
To explain: The final hall of the exhibit was one of the largest; high-ceilinged, with giant video screens making up three of the walls, and a number of seats and blocks that the patrons - the “audience” - could sit or lean against. Some of Bowie’s concert costumes from various eras were displayed around the edges, and more were ensconced in alcoves behind the video screens, lighting up randomly for a split second here and there.
The video screens were doing what you’d expect - playing clips of concert footage - but in a clever twist, would each be playing clips of the same song from different eras through Bowie’s career; for instance, the middle screen might have a modern performance, the left side one from the 70’s, and the right side one from the 90’s.
Of course, only one soundtrack played at the time, but it had been put together well enough that what we were listening to still ‘fit’ with whichever of the screens you chose to look at.
Adding to the magic; when I entered the room “Heroes’ was playing. Now, if this isn’t one of the most well-known, crowd-rousing songs of Bowie’s career, inclusive of fans and non-fans alike…I defy you to give me another. Did I say it was magic? It was.
We - meaning everyone - whether you knew the person next to you or not - were completely caught up in it all, as we swayed, smiled at each other, clapped & even sang along…not at all unlike being at an actual live performance.
The ‘performance’ would loop through several songs (all from different eras and concerts) for about 30 minutes, then start again. Most people seemed to be staying at least through an entire loop.
So what had initially seemed to be a real misfortune and disadvantage (going to the exhibit on a very busy Saturday afternoon, forced to shuffle along and crane my neck to see half the items from behind the crowds), had suddenly become a huge advantage.
Perhaps this is why Mr Whittall didn’t experience it - or at least not in a way that brought it to mind when writing the paper. Perhaps he went at a quieter time, and the crowds were needed to bring the whole effect to life?
Was it intentional? I have no idea; but even if not, it was certainly a glorious byproduct of the experience.
It certainly had me in a rather joyful mood as I entered the ubiquitous gift shop…exactly what the exhibit was hoping for, I’m sure!
The marquee signs for the exhibit proclaimed: “David Bowie is… here.” Well for those 30 minutes or so, he certainly was.
Who knows, maybe it was just me, the stars aligning just so to recall my concert experiences, and put me right back in one…but I don’t think so. Enough other people around me seemed to be enjoying it in much the same way.
In fact, taking it a step further, I would say that for those minutes we were as much a part of the performance - of the exhibit - as we were the audience.
Writing this has made me remember another time when Bowie’s audience became the performance - but this time, Bowie was there, for real.
Glasgow, 28 November 2003 (almost exactly a decade to the day before I saw the exhibit). Bowie was playing the SECC as part of his “A Reality Tour”. I was there, it was the last of 5 concerts I’d been to on my own little Bowie tour over-the-pond with some friends (Dublin, London & now Glasgow). The crowd was a little bit more ‘enthusiastic’ than some others (gotta love the Scots!) and we were getting jostled a wee bit in our spot down right in front of the stage, but generally everyone was happy and Bowie was most definitely in fine form.
Sometime after the midway point, Bowie was messing around at the other end of the stage when the band started the next song: “Starman”. This 1972 song was a HUGE hit in the UK and you could literally feel the buzz in the crowd as the opening chords began. Bowie, meanwhile, was beginning to make his way back to his microphone, but not quickly enough.
No problem. The crowd stepped in. In one voice, we were all singing the opening line, nearly finishing it before Bowie made it back to centre stage. There was a brief hesitation on his part as the band looked at him, wondering if he wanted them to start over (something Bowie was wont to do on occasion).
But instead, he shook his head at the band and just stood there, listening to the audience for the next few words and looking really chuffed, until he eventually joined in and sang the rest of the song…with us. It became a literal sing-a-long, and at the end Bowie was clapping for us, instead of the other way around. It was quite a moment.
As I finish this up, I’m now listening to my bootleg of that same Glasgow show…and happy memories are flooding back all over the place…just as they did last autumn at the AGO exhibit.
Thank you David Bowie, thank you AGO, and thank you Ted Whittall for writing the paper that sparked all this!
Toronto, 28 September 2014
Saturday, 20 September 2014
Scotland - in Truth & in Fiction
So opportunity knocked in Scotland this week…and apparently 55% of Scots ran and hid in the cupboard under the stairs instead of opening the door.
Okay, that may be a bit unfair; I’m sure some simply slammed home the deadbolt.
After all, many of the NO voters were truly passionate about their side too…and passion is always better than apathy. I just honestly didn’t think there would be so many of them.
It was extremely hard to swallow…seeing, reading and sensing the utter disappointment of the YES camp, when only a few hours before they’d been so alive with joy and enthusiasm and hope for a positive outcome. One supporter simply tweeted: “Gutted”…and that said it all.
Maybe I’d been deluding myself, after all, online I’d (unintentionally) surrounded myself with more of a YES than a NO crowd. And being here in Canada, most of the YES-focussed news reports I’d seen were from Glasgow, which was more inclined towards independence, especially with the momentum gained over the homestretch. Even so…
Lame and negative as it was, perhaps the NO campaign was on to something with their “If you’re undecided, Vote No” message. A sort of subliminal “you don’t really need to make a decision” push. Okay, I know I overthink everything, but I truly wonder how many of those NO voters would have actually buckled down and made the better decision for their future had they not been lulled back into apathy. (Or have checked off “hang on, I’m still thinking” if that had been an option. But not ‘NO’.) Anyway, that’s just my speculation on ONE possible situation amongst all the many & varied.
I spent much of the last few weeks defending my YES stance to friends and co-workers, usually in reply to “but you’re English, aren’t you?”
Yes, I was born in England - and my Grandfather was Scottish. Whether that had anything to do anything I dont have a clue, but I have always thought of myself as British, rather than just English.
“All the more reason for you to want it to stay together then”, was the usual response…and I can’t deny that for years I had usually considered myself a NO, when I thought about it at all. But as the referendum got closer I found myself taking a real interest. I started to actually read and research all points of view - and came to my own conclusion that YES made sense.
So there I’d be, trying to explain the referendum to friends and co-workers, watching their eyes slowly glaze over as I spoke enthusiastically about YES, NO, and the hundreds of years of history behind it all.
That was usually when I completely lost them…I never will understand why everyone doesn’t love history as much as I do! (Hmmm…maybe another blog idea there.)
There were two other responses I’d get from those I’d discuss it with. Sometimes: “Oh, so it’s just like Quebec then.” (No. No it was not. It was & is nothing like the Quebec situation.)
But quite often I got: “You’re just interested because you like Outlander.” Grrrr. How frustrating that apparently one can’t have an informed opinion on anything unless it’s somehow related to popular culture.
But yes, I do like Outlander. Verra, verra much…which brings me to the second part of this becoming-rather-long blog.
As I sit here tonight, Outlander fans all over the US (and pretty much all over the world, through the magic of the ‘in-some-cases-not-quite-legal’ internet) are literally counting down the minutes until: THE WEDDING!!!!
Now don’t get me wrong…I am just as excited about this as anyone, fangirling at every preview or promo pic, re-reading the chapters in the books, and looking at the clock waaay too often. The dress. The kilt (or lack thereof), the vows…oh oh oh, those lovely vows.
Like many others, I’ve waited somewhere around 20 years to see our Jamie and Claire brought to life. Especially the wedding (and yeah, the wedding night!).
But…I WON’T BE WATCHING! Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Not for another 2 weeks, actually.
You see, in my wisdom *read: stubborness; stupidity* I decided weeks ago that I would NOT succumb to online temptation, and would instead watch the series in ‘Canadian time’ - that being the schedule set by Canadian broadcaster Showcase - two weeks and one day behind each US Starz airing (it’s on Sunday nights here, and began two weeks later…tomorrow we get “Rent”). From what I read online, it’s rather likely I’m the only Canadian doing this. Possibly the only person on the planet.
Now I haven’t been a complete ‘monk’ (heehee), I’m allowing myself to see all the pics and previews and screen grabs and tweets there are…although I do try to avoid detailed recaps/reviews/podcasts until after I’ve seen an ep. (Update, 2 days later…still haven’t watched the ep, but have been reading the incredibly positive reviews. Haven’t been able to help myself this time, I’m afraid!)
So far this has worked out pretty well: knowing the books, I’m not overly worried about basic storyline spoilers…and honestly, all the advance excitement online has only increased my anticipation and enjoyment of each episode. Plus I know that when the US is done with the first eight eps, I’ll still have two more to look forward to. And finally I also prefer to support Showcase (and indirectly Starz), and watch for the first time an original, non-pirated version, on my big-screen TV, the way it was intended by those that work so hard to bring it to us. (Uh-oh, I’m getting on my soapbox!)
But all that aside, not watching this wedding with everyone else will be pushing my limits. Some friends have offered me links, and it has been VERY tempting. However, as it stands now I intend to stay strong, and let the anticipation grow - until in two weeks time I’ll be salivating just the way everyone else is tonight.
Although, by then I’ll probably have seen Jamie’s arse in so many .gifs I’ll be quite tired of it.
Ha. Not likely!
Toronto, 20 September 2014
Okay, that may be a bit unfair; I’m sure some simply slammed home the deadbolt.
After all, many of the NO voters were truly passionate about their side too…and passion is always better than apathy. I just honestly didn’t think there would be so many of them.
It was extremely hard to swallow…seeing, reading and sensing the utter disappointment of the YES camp, when only a few hours before they’d been so alive with joy and enthusiasm and hope for a positive outcome. One supporter simply tweeted: “Gutted”…and that said it all.
Maybe I’d been deluding myself, after all, online I’d (unintentionally) surrounded myself with more of a YES than a NO crowd. And being here in Canada, most of the YES-focussed news reports I’d seen were from Glasgow, which was more inclined towards independence, especially with the momentum gained over the homestretch. Even so…
Lame and negative as it was, perhaps the NO campaign was on to something with their “If you’re undecided, Vote No” message. A sort of subliminal “you don’t really need to make a decision” push. Okay, I know I overthink everything, but I truly wonder how many of those NO voters would have actually buckled down and made the better decision for their future had they not been lulled back into apathy. (Or have checked off “hang on, I’m still thinking” if that had been an option. But not ‘NO’.) Anyway, that’s just my speculation on ONE possible situation amongst all the many & varied.
I spent much of the last few weeks defending my YES stance to friends and co-workers, usually in reply to “but you’re English, aren’t you?”
Yes, I was born in England - and my Grandfather was Scottish. Whether that had anything to do anything I dont have a clue, but I have always thought of myself as British, rather than just English.
“All the more reason for you to want it to stay together then”, was the usual response…and I can’t deny that for years I had usually considered myself a NO, when I thought about it at all. But as the referendum got closer I found myself taking a real interest. I started to actually read and research all points of view - and came to my own conclusion that YES made sense.
So there I’d be, trying to explain the referendum to friends and co-workers, watching their eyes slowly glaze over as I spoke enthusiastically about YES, NO, and the hundreds of years of history behind it all.
That was usually when I completely lost them…I never will understand why everyone doesn’t love history as much as I do! (Hmmm…maybe another blog idea there.)
There were two other responses I’d get from those I’d discuss it with. Sometimes: “Oh, so it’s just like Quebec then.” (No. No it was not. It was & is nothing like the Quebec situation.)
But quite often I got: “You’re just interested because you like Outlander.” Grrrr. How frustrating that apparently one can’t have an informed opinion on anything unless it’s somehow related to popular culture.
But yes, I do like Outlander. Verra, verra much…which brings me to the second part of this becoming-rather-long blog.
As I sit here tonight, Outlander fans all over the US (and pretty much all over the world, through the magic of the ‘in-some-cases-not-quite-legal’ internet) are literally counting down the minutes until: THE WEDDING!!!!
Now don’t get me wrong…I am just as excited about this as anyone, fangirling at every preview or promo pic, re-reading the chapters in the books, and looking at the clock waaay too often. The dress. The kilt (or lack thereof), the vows…oh oh oh, those lovely vows.
Like many others, I’ve waited somewhere around 20 years to see our Jamie and Claire brought to life. Especially the wedding (and yeah, the wedding night!).
But…I WON’T BE WATCHING! Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Not for another 2 weeks, actually.
You see, in my wisdom *read: stubborness; stupidity* I decided weeks ago that I would NOT succumb to online temptation, and would instead watch the series in ‘Canadian time’ - that being the schedule set by Canadian broadcaster Showcase - two weeks and one day behind each US Starz airing (it’s on Sunday nights here, and began two weeks later…tomorrow we get “Rent”). From what I read online, it’s rather likely I’m the only Canadian doing this. Possibly the only person on the planet.
Now I haven’t been a complete ‘monk’ (heehee), I’m allowing myself to see all the pics and previews and screen grabs and tweets there are…although I do try to avoid detailed recaps/reviews/podcasts until after I’ve seen an ep. (Update, 2 days later…still haven’t watched the ep, but have been reading the incredibly positive reviews. Haven’t been able to help myself this time, I’m afraid!)
So far this has worked out pretty well: knowing the books, I’m not overly worried about basic storyline spoilers…and honestly, all the advance excitement online has only increased my anticipation and enjoyment of each episode. Plus I know that when the US is done with the first eight eps, I’ll still have two more to look forward to. And finally I also prefer to support Showcase (and indirectly Starz), and watch for the first time an original, non-pirated version, on my big-screen TV, the way it was intended by those that work so hard to bring it to us. (Uh-oh, I’m getting on my soapbox!)
But all that aside, not watching this wedding with everyone else will be pushing my limits. Some friends have offered me links, and it has been VERY tempting. However, as it stands now I intend to stay strong, and let the anticipation grow - until in two weeks time I’ll be salivating just the way everyone else is tonight.
Although, by then I’ll probably have seen Jamie’s arse in so many .gifs I’ll be quite tired of it.
Ha. Not likely!
Toronto, 20 September 2014
Wednesday, 23 July 2014
The other day, I saw a play...
(Disclaimer: Tumblr and I are not friends. Not yet anyway - and this is my first attempt at creating anything substantial here. So you’ll understand if it’s not fancy or pretty, or has a typo or two.)
(Oh, and herein there be spoilers!)
So yes, a play. Live drama. Not in a big fancy theatre with balconies and private boxes, not even in a smaller playhouse with a tasteful marquee and worn but cushy seats. No, this production took place in a small, old, hot and humid ‘storefront’ theatre in Toronto’s East end. From the outside you might even think it was just another closed-down business. But inside…oh inside, magic was happening.
The magic was the Sunday matinee (and last of only four performances) of ‘Love Letters’, by A.R. Gurney. Directed by Jill Carter, it was all for charity - fundraising for the Daily Bread food bank. Two actors graced the ‘stage’ - Kristin Kreuk and Eric Johnson. The play itself has been around for about 25 years, and has had successful runs everywhere from Broadway to community theatre. I had never seen it performed before, but had read it many years ago…and although I remembered the basic premise, I did not remember details.
For the uninitiated, ‘Love Letters’ is about the relationship between two people: Andrew Makepeace Ladd III, ever the responsible student/lawyer/politician; and Melissa Gardner, a complex and effervescent artist. Their story spans about 50 years from their childhood until the inevitable end for one - and is told entirely through their correspondence - letters, cards, invitations and the like - each character giving voice to what they have written.
I’ve heard that some consider ‘Love Letters’ an easy play to perform. After all, there are no props to maneuver, no marks to hit, even the lines don’t necessarily have to be memorised. But in my opinion, that just makes it all the more difficult. Without props or a set to move around in, the actors become the only thing thing the audience has to look at.
For almost two hours, these actors can’t even breathe or move in any way unless they stay in character. The audience is focussed only on them; and this play can only work if the actors are in turn focussed enough to deliver. If they don’t, it’s simple - they lose the audience. But we were fortunate to have Kristin and Eric sitting up there, because they never lost the audience. We laughed and cried in all the ‘right’ places…and we believed every moment of Melissa and Andrew’s journey. It was like we were all in a little bubble together, the characters and the audience.
At first, I often had to remind myself to watch whichever actor was NOT speaking. As viewers, we’re used to directing our attention to the character saying the words, indeed in film and television that’s usually who the camera is on. Unless directed to do so by the POV on our screens, we often only take notice of the listener’s reactions if we view the show or scene again. But a play is a one time shot, and in this particular play it is the reaction of the character listening - or ‘reading’ - that is just as powerful, potentially even more so.
For instance: when Andrew is speaking, we’re not really hearing him say the words as he writes them. We are hearing how Melissa imagines him saying those words as she ‘reads’ them; and in turn reacts to them. Kristin and Eric were able to both deliver and react with passion or calm, or even just an expression, which was equally effective. And subtle differences in tone or inflection conveyed the passage of time - from childlike innocence to the increasing world-weariness of later years - without having to resort to overdone or affected voices.
While watching, I wondered if it had been a challenge to adapt to the staging. Actors play off each other with more than words; one fuels the other with body language and expressions, particularly in dialogue-heavy scenes…and ‘Love Letters is basically one continuous dialogue-heavy scene! (Okay, two - there is an intermission.) However, although situated just a few feet apart, our actors had to play it as if they were alone on stage, imagining themselves as far away from each other as Andrew and Melissa were. They can’t even glance at each other - to lose that focus would break the bubble they’ve so successfully created.
I believe that’s why the ending was so poignant. The moment the audience realised that Melissa had died was already powerful, but the following shift in dynamic just made it even more so. Kristin deliberately - and for the first and only time - broke the bubble, having Melissa speak directly to Andrew as he wrote the letter of condolence to her mother. For the first time, we were actually hearing Andrew speak the words as he wrote them. Was Melissa’s ‘spirit’ really there, reacting to his words in real time? Or was her voice all in Andrew’s mind, as he imagined what she’d be saying to him?
I was so impressed with Kristin Kreuk and Eric Johnson. I admit I wasn’t previously very familiar with Eric’s work - but he now has another fan for life. (And no, I didn’t even watch ‘Smallville’! ) I’m also not very familiar with Kristin’s work outside of ‘Beauty and the Beast’ (although I adore ‘Space Milkshake’ - it’s a must-watch, for anyone who appreciates ridiculously funny sci-fi spoofs). But it was truly special to see Kristin translate the humour and emotion we love in BATB to a live, up-close performance.
And I do mean up-close. Very very up-close, no raised stage or separation from the audience here. I didn’t count, but the venue held maybe 90-100 seats. The stage was simply the area in front of the first row, literally just a few feet ahead. I wondered if this proximity to the audience was intimidating to the performers…but if it was, neither of them showed it. If anything, the intimacy of the setting was perfect for this play; the audience was drawn immediately into the bubble, and the skill of the actors kept them there.
At the conclusion of the play, we were honoured to meet and speak with Kristin, Eric and Jill, even take pictures with them. The atmosphere was comfortable, and from my vantage point it appeared everyone had thoroughly enjoyed the experience.
So thank you Kristin, thank you Eric, and thank you Jill, for bringing it all together and sharing your work of art with us. ‘Love Letters’ will stay with me for a long, long time.
Toronto, 23 July, 2014
(Oh, and herein there be spoilers!)
So yes, a play. Live drama. Not in a big fancy theatre with balconies and private boxes, not even in a smaller playhouse with a tasteful marquee and worn but cushy seats. No, this production took place in a small, old, hot and humid ‘storefront’ theatre in Toronto’s East end. From the outside you might even think it was just another closed-down business. But inside…oh inside, magic was happening.
The magic was the Sunday matinee (and last of only four performances) of ‘Love Letters’, by A.R. Gurney. Directed by Jill Carter, it was all for charity - fundraising for the Daily Bread food bank. Two actors graced the ‘stage’ - Kristin Kreuk and Eric Johnson. The play itself has been around for about 25 years, and has had successful runs everywhere from Broadway to community theatre. I had never seen it performed before, but had read it many years ago…and although I remembered the basic premise, I did not remember details.
For the uninitiated, ‘Love Letters’ is about the relationship between two people: Andrew Makepeace Ladd III, ever the responsible student/lawyer/politician; and Melissa Gardner, a complex and effervescent artist. Their story spans about 50 years from their childhood until the inevitable end for one - and is told entirely through their correspondence - letters, cards, invitations and the like - each character giving voice to what they have written.
I’ve heard that some consider ‘Love Letters’ an easy play to perform. After all, there are no props to maneuver, no marks to hit, even the lines don’t necessarily have to be memorised. But in my opinion, that just makes it all the more difficult. Without props or a set to move around in, the actors become the only thing thing the audience has to look at.
For almost two hours, these actors can’t even breathe or move in any way unless they stay in character. The audience is focussed only on them; and this play can only work if the actors are in turn focussed enough to deliver. If they don’t, it’s simple - they lose the audience. But we were fortunate to have Kristin and Eric sitting up there, because they never lost the audience. We laughed and cried in all the ‘right’ places…and we believed every moment of Melissa and Andrew’s journey. It was like we were all in a little bubble together, the characters and the audience.
At first, I often had to remind myself to watch whichever actor was NOT speaking. As viewers, we’re used to directing our attention to the character saying the words, indeed in film and television that’s usually who the camera is on. Unless directed to do so by the POV on our screens, we often only take notice of the listener’s reactions if we view the show or scene again. But a play is a one time shot, and in this particular play it is the reaction of the character listening - or ‘reading’ - that is just as powerful, potentially even more so.
For instance: when Andrew is speaking, we’re not really hearing him say the words as he writes them. We are hearing how Melissa imagines him saying those words as she ‘reads’ them; and in turn reacts to them. Kristin and Eric were able to both deliver and react with passion or calm, or even just an expression, which was equally effective. And subtle differences in tone or inflection conveyed the passage of time - from childlike innocence to the increasing world-weariness of later years - without having to resort to overdone or affected voices.
While watching, I wondered if it had been a challenge to adapt to the staging. Actors play off each other with more than words; one fuels the other with body language and expressions, particularly in dialogue-heavy scenes…and ‘Love Letters is basically one continuous dialogue-heavy scene! (Okay, two - there is an intermission.) However, although situated just a few feet apart, our actors had to play it as if they were alone on stage, imagining themselves as far away from each other as Andrew and Melissa were. They can’t even glance at each other - to lose that focus would break the bubble they’ve so successfully created.
I believe that’s why the ending was so poignant. The moment the audience realised that Melissa had died was already powerful, but the following shift in dynamic just made it even more so. Kristin deliberately - and for the first and only time - broke the bubble, having Melissa speak directly to Andrew as he wrote the letter of condolence to her mother. For the first time, we were actually hearing Andrew speak the words as he wrote them. Was Melissa’s ‘spirit’ really there, reacting to his words in real time? Or was her voice all in Andrew’s mind, as he imagined what she’d be saying to him?
I was so impressed with Kristin Kreuk and Eric Johnson. I admit I wasn’t previously very familiar with Eric’s work - but he now has another fan for life. (And no, I didn’t even watch ‘Smallville’! ) I’m also not very familiar with Kristin’s work outside of ‘Beauty and the Beast’ (although I adore ‘Space Milkshake’ - it’s a must-watch, for anyone who appreciates ridiculously funny sci-fi spoofs). But it was truly special to see Kristin translate the humour and emotion we love in BATB to a live, up-close performance.
And I do mean up-close. Very very up-close, no raised stage or separation from the audience here. I didn’t count, but the venue held maybe 90-100 seats. The stage was simply the area in front of the first row, literally just a few feet ahead. I wondered if this proximity to the audience was intimidating to the performers…but if it was, neither of them showed it. If anything, the intimacy of the setting was perfect for this play; the audience was drawn immediately into the bubble, and the skill of the actors kept them there.
At the conclusion of the play, we were honoured to meet and speak with Kristin, Eric and Jill, even take pictures with them. The atmosphere was comfortable, and from my vantage point it appeared everyone had thoroughly enjoyed the experience.
So thank you Kristin, thank you Eric, and thank you Jill, for bringing it all together and sharing your work of art with us. ‘Love Letters’ will stay with me for a long, long time.
Toronto, 23 July, 2014
Thursday, 17 July 2014
Please ignore this
After all, it’s only a test. Trying to teach myself how this place works.
You may move along now…this isn’t the blog you’re looking for…YET!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)