There were three floors of every kind of fabric for clothes--I have never seen so much neoprene in one place! Most of the bolts of cloth were stacked on deep utilitarian shelves or propped like sheaves of wheat on the floor. But in one discreet corner, there was a section of suiting fabrics that were $120 a yard. The bolts were stored neatly on dark wood shelving, all very clubby. W.e did not shop in that section, but it was fun to see!
Next door was a Mood for home fabrics, for upholstery and draperies and such such. The only disappointment--I didn't get to see Swatch the dog!
And it feels like that is what the Koch brothers and the other "drill baby drill" folks are doing. Using it up with no thought at all for the kids and grandkids who are going to need the planet when we are gone. Worse, they push an apocalyptic agenda to convince their victims that the world is going to end anyway, so no need to worry about what happens to your grandkids.
I am not religious in a traditional way, but I think about religion a lot. And I think that this apocalyptic message is a perversion of religion to benefit a few old men who believe they can take it with them when they die. They are in for a nasty shock. But in the meantime, I will be out there with my feet on the pavement, fighting for the planet so our kids and grandkids have air to breath and water to drink, and a climate that supports human life. It's easy to give up. Harder to do the work, but the work has to get done anyway.
I am still reading Apollinaire's poetry, and I am almost through Jean Cocteau's Thomas the Imposter, about WWI. I like it very much--it is a slim book, with strikingly concrete imagery and an absurd plot drawn from Cocteau's own experience. Not quite as outrageous as his real life at that time, though.
Next up is more Cocteau. I've been a wee bit obsessed with him since I was in my twenties.
Before bed I am rereading C J Cherryh's Visitor, the book in the Foreigner series that precedes the new one on order from B&N. Read the one before that last week. Wanted to get back into the story before I leap on the new one!
Rush tickets are the best! On the night of a performance, music lovers on a budget line up to purchase any unsold or returned tickets. At 5:30, all the windows in the box office open for rush. The trick to rush tickets is to arrive early. Verizon Hall at the Kimmel seats 2500 people, and there were just 60 unsold tickets available. I arrived at 5:00, half an hour early, and there was already a line. So some nights you won't get in. But many nights you will.
As for the War Requiem, it was fabulous. Mostly I go to chamber music concerts--you can see chamber music pretty much every day of the week if you want, but I usually go once or twice a week. I'd forgotten a bit how much I love REALLY BIG music! And the War Requiem is really big. The orchestra was huge--I counted 7 percussionists alone. There were choirs and soloists and a harp and a bassoon front and center in dialogue with the soloists. The big pipe organ was in play. And yet, for all the moments of rising wall of sound that blew your socks off, there were quiet moments of reflection as well. The choirs sang the mass, while the soloists sang the war poems of Wilfred Owen as a sort of commentary. It was a performance not to be missed--well worth standing in line for!
On my way out I bumped into a couple of friends who were also there. Looked for another friend, but there were thousands of people letting out at the same time, so I am surprised I saw anyone I knew. A fun night, then a brisk walk home. I have a lot coming up in April and May, but I hope to be able to do rush again soon.
It was not my favorite Shakespeare this month. I did like the contemporary costumes that brought the play into a contemporary political context, but it seemed more focused on tricks--CNN-like screens, lots of rushing around and overwhelming sound effects--than actually enunciating the lines, so it was hard to follow if you hadn't seen other versions of the play.
The second half was better than the first half, because they slowed down the gosh-wow externals and focused more on characters for the drama. Midsummer worked better overall for me, but it was an afternoon well spent.
Both plays are still playing, so go! Then tell me what you thought of them!
20 years ago, Arden's Midsummer introduced a cast that became acting royalty in Philadelphia. Now, 20 years later, they billed the new Midsummer as introducing the next generation to take Philly by storm. I'd seen a lot of the cast in recent productions, but they came together wonderfully in a grand version of the great Shakespeare trickster play, this time set in a down-homey Arden with blue-grassy music created for the production.
Mary Tuomanen, who played Puck, and Dan Hodge, who played Bottom, were my favorites, but the whole cast was excellent. The parallel relationships between Titania and Oberon and Hippolyta and Theseus are always a part of the play, but in this version you really felt the mirroring of those fraught emotions. Very good. And the music was fun.
According to the Sunday Times blurb on the cover of the program, Les Ballets Trockadero de Monte Carlo is “the funniest night you will ever have at the Ballet.” The Trocks, as they are affectionately known, present scenes from the great ballets with men playing all the parts, so we were expecting a fun night. But with the revelation that the “to be announced” in the program would be the pas de deux from Le Corsaire, we all sat up and took notice. Many of us had tickets for the Pennsylvania Ballet’s performance of that very ballet at the Academy of Music the following night! With a scene from last year’s Don Quixote already on the schedule, we were in for a meta night.
The Trocks dance a precarious balancing act. Men in tights and tutus: what is not funny about that? So they have to acknowledge the absurdity of men en pointe up front. But if they want to tell the joke, and not be the joke, they have to be very good. The silly bits have to be their choice, and the Trocks made that stunningly clear, in dance that ranged from the beautiful to the utterly absurd (the dying swan leaves feathers all over the stage).
The Le Corsaire pas de deux (Long Zou dancing as Nina Inimenimynimova and Lazlo Major dancing as Araf Legupski) offered a few nods to comedy, but none so broad that they pulled the audience out of the dance for more than a moment. The balancing act veered much closer to excellent dancing than it did to comedy, except for the meta part. The fun is not just on the Prince stage but in the interplay with the Academy of Music, the middle space where high art meets a gently humorous commentary in kind. The Trocks set the bar very high—can high art measure up?