Quote from actor Jonathan Bailey when asked by WSJ about one piece of advice he’s gotten that’s guided him:
Always do theater. That was actually from Ian McKellen. It’s in my bones anyway.
Musings of a New York City Broadway and theater enthusiast!!
Quote from actor Jonathan Bailey when asked by WSJ about one piece of advice he’s gotten that’s guided him:
Always do theater. That was actually from Ian McKellen. It’s in my bones anyway.
Quote from Kelli O’Hara in Penta article: Actress Kelli O’Hara’s Career Advice: Take ‘the Long Road’ in an Era of Viral Sensations:
Incredible theaters around the world include...For my money, everywhere from the Palladium in London to the Delacorte in Central Park to the makeshift black box theaters in a childhood backyard. Wherever we are free to let our imagination fly is the best sort of theater.
I can’t recall the last time I cried at the theater. Yes, tears have pooled in my eyes. Sometimes they’ve threatened to spill over, but usually they don’t. They quickly evaporate. Last weekend, however, this was not the case. When I saw the names of the victims of the tragedy that is the Grenfell Tower fire, tears breached my lids, and when I saw multiple names with the same surname, salty tears poured down my cheeks as I wondered how many members of one family, one household, are gone...forever. Hurriedly, I plucked a tissue from my back pocket and scrambled to wipe the tears and their stain away. After all, I was at the theater—more precisely, St. Ann’s Warehouse in Dumbo Brooklyn—surrounded.
Grenfell Tower, Grenfell Tower, Grenfell Tower...
I came to learn about the tragedy that is Grenfell Tower through a poem—Grenfell Tower, June, 2017—by British-Nigerian poet Ben Okri. I was so moved by the poem that I immediately wanted to learn more about what happened that night.
As I made my way to St. Ann's to see the National Theatre's production of Grenfell: in the words of survivors—a play by Gillian Slovo—I reread Ben Okri's words once again. Later, I would come to realize that in less than two months, it will be the seventh anniversary of the fire that took seventy-two lives. And my understanding from the talkback—Can Tragedy Change Policy?—that took place after the show with a panel of two survivors from the night of the fire as well as local New York City politicians and activists, no criminal justice has been served for the people of Grenfell Tower.
What Happened, What Happened, What Happened...
For those who are not aware of the 2017 fire (like I was before I read Mr. Okri's poem), know that what started as a refrigerator fire in a flat wound up engulfing Grenfell Tower due to shoddy materials used during refurbishment of the twenty-four story building years earlier. This however is a vast over-simplification of what happened. One has to also look at a loosening of health and safety regulations. One has to look at capitalism and the never ending pursuit of corporate profits. One has to look at mismanagement and placing cost cutting over safety. And one has to look at the West London neighborhood where the tower stood/stands and the community of Grenfell residents who have their origins in the Caribbean, Portugal, Syria, Morocco, Ethiopia, Britain, and more.
Here is one short documentary; more are available online.
Grenfell: in the words of survivors...
For those who want to know more about the victims, the bereaved and the survivors of this tragedy, please please head over to St Ann's and listen to first hand verbatim accounts of what it was like to live in Grenfell Tower, go through horror and trauma there, and then band together in solidarity and to hopefully promote change.
Be warned though: Grenfell: in the words of survivors is emotional. It may move you to tears, but even if it doesn't, it will surely make you want to get up, march out of the theater, and take some sort of action...
Aah, to be so enamored that you drop everything, pour your delirious heart out into a flipping type-written love letter, and long for "the peaceful excitement that comes from being with someone you love."
On view at The Morgan Library & Museum
PLAYWRIGHT'S
Permissions for Engagement
Consider this an invitation to be your full and unrestricted selves. But I also want you to know that the theatre normative will be disrupted in this space for the duration of this show. And that means some thangs.
It means you are allowed to laugh audibly and give all the "um hmmms" and "uhn hnnns" you feel inspired to give
The subject matter might make you think that there is no room for humor. That is a lie. The humanity of both the folk in the present and in the past during times of enslavement mean that they are full and complex. They are not simply downtrodden or in a perpetual state of abuse.
Just like in the present, the enslaved are multi-faceted. We all carry snark and sarcasm. We are all expert navigators of the systemic fuckeries. And sometimes, navigating that shit is painful. And sometimes, navigating that shit is funny.
As always, the theatre can be church for some of us, and testifying is allowed.
Please be an audience member that joins with the village, either silently or vocally, in support of the journey we will take collectively. Exhale together. Laugh together. Say "oh hell no" or "amen" should you need to.
This is community. Let's dismantle and let's go.
peaceandlovedominique:)
Okay, so I haven’t really seen aurora borealis. There haven’t been any recent trips (unfortunately!) to any of the best destinations to take in the northern lights.
But this experience still rests firmly on my bucket list.
In the meantime, I take what I can get and headed over to The Edge at Hudson Yards this week to gaze at a special sky-high light show taking place only for a few days -- March 3rd through 7th (7 to 10pm each night).
It wasn't the real thing. But New York City on a clear night from the edge of a precipice is always beautiful.
One of my absolute favorite artists:
Wall Street Journal ~ Larry Blumenfeld:
“Ghost Song” is her boldest act yet. Here, Ms. Salvant displays yet more sonic range and nuance—soaring through intervals, moving nimbly through tricky rhythms, and reveling in pithy turns of phrase. Her voice is singularly arresting, yet it is never a single sound. It’s playful, nearly giddy, on “Optimistic Voices” (from “The Wizard of Oz”), and then sultry when that song segues into Gregory Porter’s “No Love Dying.” It’s a blues holler to start the title track, one of seven original compositions, and nearly soft as a whisper to begin Sting’s “Until.”
Ms. Cécile McLorin Salvant plays the Rose Theater in May 2022.
Love Note to a Playwright by Phyllis McGinley
I may have missed the Tony Awards but I sure am enjoying the Broadway World playlist.
A talk with members of the creative team behind the history making opera — Fire Shut Up in My Bones: