From My Mind to....

Romeo and Juliet

Okay, suffice it to say lots has happened in my life since I last penned some words here.  Fortunately for you all (that's the two of you who may stop by) I won't regurgitate all that stuff.  After being reminded to blog at least a dozen times, I finally turned off the automatic reminder.  Dang, it was quiet here. 

Recently I donated some GPs to Coolhand 's "Invalid Item" , something I do on a quasi-regular basis.  He updates my donation in his "Patron of the Arts" forum.  That's what I am--a Patron of the Arts.   

Actually, we have an active local Fine Arts group where I live, and I experienced the good fortune to be their President for three years.  My personal skill set is not being on stage--it's an ability to organize and motivate folks.  The skills to renovate the theater and build sets didn't hurt either.  But that's me--I prefer working behind-the-scenes.  I've come to like the theater ... except I don't understand Shakespeare.

Romeo and Juliet

Last night I attended the final performance of Romeo and Juliet by our local High School.  I know the drama teacher very well and have always seen some high quality productions by the kids.  But this was Shakespeare.  The truth was I went at my wife's request--initially I said no, and relented after I saw the "writing on the wall."  Peace of mind and harmony in home life is important. 

I sat throught the first act scarcely understanding word one of the dialogue.  Later I found out the kids were told to pick up their pacing because the show was three hours long.  Of course, being somewhat familiar with the storyline helped; all was not lost.

At Intermission, I had occasion to speak with some good friends, serious patrons who had attended opening night as well.  They said this show had improved immensely over opening night.  My expectations were bolstered that Act Two would be better than the first.  Alas, t'was not to be!

The Friar's dialogue with Romeo might well have been in another tongue.  Indeed, I asked my wife if he was speaking in English.

"No," she whispered, leaning close enough for just me to hear.

I, feeling vindicated, smiled ... until I caught her smile out of the corner of my eye when the lighting changed.  It's not often she 'gets' me. 

Later, Juliet's father became angry at her refusal to marry his choice as a husband.  His tirade sounded strangely like Sylvester Stallone crying out to Col. Troutman after shooting up the Police Station in First Blood ... only with more cotton in his mouth.  Father's yelling his lines did nothing to clarify the words that reached my poor ears.

Perhaps the greatest irony of last night's show is that the only persons that I could actually understand wound up dead--Romeo, Juliet, even Mercutio.

'Tis said the one doesn't have to understand the language to understand opera.  The power of the music and the raw emotion of the actors conveys its meaning to the audience.  Suffice it to say the lack of music in last night's performance left my enjoyment lacking.

Still, the cast of thirty-six plus stage-hands is a great testament to tremendous program at this school.  The smiles on their faces after the performance was worth the price of admission. 

Oh yeah, and the words above were all penned in the dark between scene changes. Long live a small notebook and a steady hand.