Tuesday, May 24, 2005

Thoughts on Arthur: The Hunt The play opened at Taproot Theatre on Friday night to a mostly warm reception. As one reviewer has said, these plays are not for everyone, but what most people are picking up on is that there is something of an unusual effort going on. Joe Adcock, of The Seattle P-I, complained of some "stilted theatrics" (not sure exactly what he meant), but people are leaning forward as the play goes on, listening carefully, wanting to catch the sense of language that the play is offering. We live in an age of visual images that speak profoundly with no words at all. What sense is there in asking people to listen to words--what seems to be miles and miles of them. But if there is one thing that drives me out of my mind it is the notion that profound thought can somehow be more easily digested and owned in simplistic language. In this, I am out of step with the times. Few really trust language anymore, trust its ability to speak clearly and truthfully. Perhaps I'm wrong, but it seems that less and less of us really love words and sentences, caring not only for the thing said but for the way in which it is said as well. The story of Arthur is a towering story, one with enough legs to run for hundreds of years, calling to screenwriters and novelists by the dozens. I simply wondered why not create an epic sort of thing for the theatre? And for that you need language and actors, not sets and costumes. And of course, you need actors that can speak the language, understanding that language is action, that language is something other than talking. We'll get a better understanding on whether folks are connecting with the story of Arthur and poor Morgan as the run goes on. ...pay what you can tomorrow night... 7:05:23 AM    comment []

A Rich Life Reverence. It's not a word I use much, but I think it's making a comeback in my vocabulary and thought-life. I can thank a man named John O'Donohue, who wrote a book called Beauty: The Invisible Embrace, a book I picked up last week as I was rummaging for opening night cards and gifts for the cast and crew of Arthur: The Hunt. I read portions of Beauty Friday and Saturday, and again Sunday morning, and this notion of approaching the moment with reverence, as in to revere, began to work on me. Life is, of course, profoundly disappointing, looked at in one way. And it is my bent to look at things just that way, hence the constant pull and tug of depression and discouragement. But Sunday morning, as I listened to the Northwest Church early service crowd lean into their time of praise, I began to watch my life inside my thoughts, searching specifically for moments of beauty, and was astounded to realize how much beauty has been there. Scene after scene swept through me, instants of images with family and friends, the beauty of encounters with various pieces of art and theatre, the long learning of love. I am not a terribly practical man. I often wish I was. What is the practical use of a moment of simple beauty? It won't even buy a latte. But beauty, beauty everywhere, so much so that I can barely stand to think about it. I sit down to blog about realizations sweeping over, but in the pointing them out, I get run over by them all over again, and end up sitting in front of the computer in a sort of stupor, and have nothing to say. Reverence. And thankfulness. ...my life is so rich. 6:45:58 AM    comment []

© Copyright 2005 Jeff Berryman .