the thing itself and not the myth

This staycation isn’t all films & volunteering, though it certainly is starting to seem that way on Twitter. I took a break for some actual! live! theater, thanks to Goldstar’s half price tickets. I had become a little obsessed with seeing The Thin Place, and decided for once not to let the lack of theater-going company get me down.

It’s a play with one actor, starring Gbenga Akinnagbe (best known to y’all as Chris from “The Wire”) in 11 different roles, and it’s a very Seattle production, being inspired by a piece Dan Savage performed on This American Life*. Several months after that show aired, the Intiman commissioned interviews of Seattle residents by KUOW journalist Marcie Sillman on the question of faith, which playwright Sonya Schneider shaped into the piece. Akinnagbe takes on each of their personas as well as that of Isaac, whose own quest for meaning ties them all together. Interestingly, perhaps, the characters who are sticking with me were both women. It’s possible that’s because they also had some of the stronger senses of place: one was a young Muslim woman on a bus, discussing wearing hijab, and the other was a survivor of the shooting at the Jewish Federation.

I had read a lot of criticism going in, particularly that the script felt like it was still in a workshop stage. I do think this is true, and is perhaps a product of how speedy the turnaround was on the project; the TAL episode aired almost exactly a year before the play opened. On the other hand, the open-endedness of the piece is part of the point: it’s the start of a discussion, and I would be delighted if this was also the start of the Intiman producing more local work.

Certainly all the other aspects of the production were great: set & lighting were striking & minimal, and Akinnagbe’s performance was brilliant. It’s amazing with what clarity and simplicity he moves from character to character. I had figured when I ordered my ticket that it was going to be worth the money just to see him perform, and it definitely was.

There was a discussion session afterwards, and I wish that I could have stayed, particularly as Akinnagbe was speaking as I left. However, I had to get home as I was feeling ill (and, in fact, had felt pretty awful throughout the play, but Akinnagbe was so compelling I was able to forget about it most of the time). It would have been interesting, though, since Seattle is infamously, perhaps, the least-churched city in the country. Which is fine by me. I have a running joke with one of our community partners about attending his church. Recently I said I wouldn’t be there that coming Sunday because I was going to be volunteering for the film festival. He suggested that film wasn’t a religious experience. I argued that it can be if you see the right ones.

…see, it all comes back to film.

* A piece, by the way, very much worth listening to, no matter how you feel about Dan Savage. Moved me to tears when I listened to the podcast on the 49 bus, which was more than a little embarrassing.

After what felt like endless weekends of nothing going on (not that I really mind that so much: it gives me time to knit & watch absurd amounts of television) I had two weekends in a row when Stuff Happened. Like so.

Last weekend, knitwear designer Stephen West did a trunk show and a shawl class up at Village Yarn and Tea. I’ve been a fan of his designs for a while, but had yet to tackle one, so I signed up for the class, which was an excellent decision. I learned a few new tips and tricks, but more importantly, I got inspired again. We can all use that from time to time.

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This weekend, as probably all of Seattle knows, the Alaskan Way Viaduct was closed for inspection. They do it twice a year, and while it’s closed, they do public walking tours. That’s how I found myself, shortly after 9 in the morning, donning an orange vest and a hard hat and walking up the Seneca St off ramp. A very odd experience. I wish that we had been able to explore more of the structure, but we did learn a lot in a brief time about safety measures on the Viaduct as well as regarding the process of taking it down and elements of the tunnel option for the waterfront (of which I am still not a fan, for those playing along at home.)

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The whole thing was worth it if only for the chance to get a photo of Seattle’s Ugliest Mural. I saw it every day the three or four months I lived in West Seattle, and I was always horrified. The closer you get, the more terrifying it is.

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Two obligatory walking-up-1st-Avenue photos:

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Later that afternoon, I met up with Puck & their gran to see the live broadcast of A Prairie Home Companion. It was a lot of fun, and I am looking forward to listening next week to see what other Seattle material they can dig up.

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After coffee with them, I went up to the Phinney Neighborhood Center to see Ellis Paul. I feel like I could totally live in Phinney Ridge if I was the sort of person who wanted to have babies and dress them in organic clothing and be annoyed that Seattle’s draconian drinking laws prohibit children in bars. Instead I want no babies and I ride the bus and drink coffee, so I live on Capitol Hill. But going to the neighborhood makes me feel like I’m in some weird parallel universe.

Anyway. The point was Ellis, whom I have seen live a lot. He’s probably rivaling the Paperboys & Peter Mulvey at this point. I try to make a point of going to his shows, even when they’re in weird neighborhoods, because as I said on Facebook, I always feel better about the world afterwards. And no, that’s not a given for a concert. For example, a Richard Shindell show is obviously always worth seeing, but for me that’s because his shows are cathartic. I have yet to attend a Richard show that didn’t make me cry.

At an Ellis show, though, something special always happens in a way that it doesn’t happen for any other artist, or at least not with such regularity. The last time I saw him at PNC, Antje Duvekot opened, but late in the show when he wanted to perform “Conversation with a Ghost”, she was nowhere to be found, so he wound up singing with a member of the audience. One half of a couple, by the way, that drove at least 6 hours to be there. And of course she was amazing.

The next time, in West Seattle, Ellis got a deep back catalog request. He gamely attempted it, but soon it was clear that he didn’t remember the words nearly as well as a fellow in the audience, who he brought up to help out.

Tonight at the half, a family pointed out to him that it was Earth Hour, so he came down into the middle of the hall (which in itself was not uncommon) and did “Let it Be” off mic in the dark. I am not a religious person (which is perhaps the understatement of the century) but times like that are transcendental.

…and that’s all for now, folks. Though poking at my Flickr, it seems I have a backlog of knitting to show you. Perhaps later this week.

Something I found irritating:

Something I crocheted:

Something I was given at work:

Something I went to see:

Last night I had a free ticket (see, Facebook is good for something) to see The Merchant of Venice. It is, amazingly, a play I’ve never seen before, and I was surprised to discover it was a comedy. In my head, it was the tragedy of Shylock. We all, even English major librarians, have things to learn.

I quite enjoyed the production, set against the crash of ‘29. I think that Seattle Shakes was responsible for the disaster that was Twelfth Night on a boat (it begins with a shipwreck, for the love) so it was nice to see them try a concept that worked. Also, that goes to show how long it’s been since I’ve seen something there. Mortifying, though I suppose there’s a reason why “see more theater” was a resolution this year.

Anyway. I was particularly impressed to learn that Melanie Moser, who shone as Jessica, is a Cornish intern at the Company. I was much less impressed with the Seattle audience. For them, a few notes after the jump. (more…)

Then we were off to London. Eventually. It took a crazy amount of time to get out of Oxford, and we wound up completely reorganizing the plan for the day thanks to transit in general hating us, but it worked out okay because I got to do two things I had failed at when I was in London in July. Plus one bonus thing.

First off, in July for some reason, the portrait of Richard III was not on display at the National Portrait Gallery. I do not know why. I suspected it was just to torture me, as I had gone to said Gallery solely to visit him. I attempted it again this trip and there he was, precisely where he was supposed to be! It was amazing. I have been a bit obsessed with him ever since I read Shakespeare’s take on him, but it was only heightened when I read The Daughter of Time, in which the main character is inspired to research him based on this portrait.

Perhaps the best part of visiting him was that there was a tour going around, and I got to hear the tour guide say that they probably knew Richard best from Shakespeare, and that said play was “high propaganda”. Oh my heart! I bought a postcard of Richard down in the gift shop. How could I not?

Also in July, I failed to find the marker for 84 Charing Cross Road. This is apparently because I am an idiot. I found it this time, no problem, though it was mightily depressing to see it on the side of an irritatingly trendy restaurant. Click through to read the text.

Finally, I had really hoped to see The History Boys when I was in London. They were only selling matinée tickets at the half-price booth, but I had my heart set on it, so we stopped by the theater box office, and since I was going alone I got a seat in the SECOND ROW OH MY GOD AMAZING. Happy birthday to me! I had an issue with the casting for Posner (too old, played it way too camp), but I think I actually liked this Dakin better, and though Irwin & Scripps had a lot to live up to, I rather loved them.

Other London things after the jump… (more…)

I took myself out to dinner and a movie this weekend, where dinner was breakfast at Easy Streets (a greasy spoon attached to a fabulous record store? The only way it could be better is if it -wasn’t- in West Seattle) and where the movie was Shakespeare in the Park. Hmm.

They were doing a double feature of Richard III & Two Gentlemen of Verona. I didn’t manage to stay for Two Gents, though, because the direct sunlight for three hours had fried my brains. It’s a nifty little amphitheater in theory, with picnic-perfect tiered seating, but it’s only 2/3 of a circle, and the other 1/3 is bordered by hangers, etc, so the echo is kind of evil. Next year I’ll have to take my blessed festival seat and try out other parks.

As for the play itself, it is (famously) one of my favorites and it, combined with The Daughter of Time, created in me a slight (ahem) Richard obsession. The Richard in this production was serviceable, but I thought that both Margaret & Buckingham were particularly good.

Tonight I am polishing my spinster title and making pillows. Pictures tomorrow, I am sure. And speaking of interesting villains, I might be watching “Dexter”. Fan-tas-tic, I tell you.