I’m in the sweet spot between chemo treatments. If you ever want to really take stock of your life, go through chemo. The pauses between when you feel like a cancer patient and a normal human being depend on the spacing of the infusions, of course, but for me have yielded me with about ten days to two weeks of feeling good and curious about the world. Both of these states have always been my privilege until now. I have as a result of this, learned to be truly grateful for both, especially when they intersect as they are now.
So, as promised, Destiny and I attended a few plays last week, USC’s School of Dramatic Arts production of Claire Barron’s Dance Nation at the Scene Dock Theatre. I went down on Thursday evening, Destiny firmly clamped on my head, meeting the inquisitive looks from some students “Don’t I know her?” while others greeted me by name. I took my friend, Mary Kate, a lifelong dancer, and we sat with fellow faculty member Bob Bailey to watch the double cast of the show with the other cast in the house, practically all carrying bouquets of flowers. There is something so cheerful about a house full of actors supporting each other. Their energy was like a luminous liminal exchange of good will. Barron’s play is ostensibly challenging on the page.
When I read the script in anticipation of our producing it, within just the first scene, one of the teenage competitive dancers falls on stage during the merry sailor number with a bone protruding from her knee, and a theatrical light breaks and falls. Director Susan Dalian and her creative team didn’t seem phased by this, and both events were theatrical and yet simply and effectively executed.
The scenic design, by Bailey Youn was effective for the numerous scenes the play demands. Two floor-to-ceiling cases dressed with absurdly large dance trophies flanked the upstage wall, and a simple orange semicircle of seating provided both interior and exterior locations throughout the course of the intermission-less play. Barron’s characters are individual, quirky and unformed, described by the playwright as “feral.” Everything Dalian and choreographer Kitty McNamee accomplished was to this end. Several conventions, such as the sharing of all the characters’ moms by one actor (Jordan Coffer), were particularly effective as well.
Similar to The Wolves by Sarah DeLappe, Barron asks us to treasure the raw untamed power of these young women as they pursue their passion for dance through the rituals of puberty and all that that entails. Particularly mesmerizing is the monologue by the character of Ashlee (Joy Jaensubhakij the evening I went) which builds to a dynamite crescendo of aspiration and self actualization that resulted in spontaneous applause the night I was there. I was transported by all the actors and the powerfully specific lighting and sound designs by Michael Latimer and Jane McKeever. Kealey Busch’s understated costumes blended well to convey the athleticism and individual personalities of the young dancers. Busch had some challenges in the costume area called for in the script which resulted in savagely comic moments. Dalian and McNamee were able to actualize the seemingly staggered abilities of the dancers alluded to so specifically in the script. I was happy to see some of the stage management team, Sarah Costigan and Kaitlyn Chaidez after the show. Their hard work was evident in the smooth running of the show with two separate casts.
Friday evening, I went to the Bing Theatre on the campus to see the opening performance of Pippin (playing through 11/5/23). Destiny refused to go out two nights in a row, so I took my bald pate to campus, heart in my mouth. There was an opening night reception on the back patio, but my shyness steered me to the front of the theatre; as a result I missed seeing/meeting Ben Vereen, who was there to support the students on their opening night. Let that be a lesson to you.
Don’t be scared.
When I was thirteen, I went to New York with my parents to see my first Broadway shows. Top on the list was Pippin, with a young Ben Vereen, and John Rubinstein (Vereen seen performing Simple Joys for a TV special in the previous link).
Friday’s opening of Pippin at the Bing featured the colorful circus-tinged set designed by Maya Channer, lighting by Jacob Hollens, sound by Amelia Anello, production mix by Renata Finemore, and costume design by Freddie Patrick, stage managed by Marcus Maia and Lexey Glouberman. Performances by The Player, Zoe Hosley was particularly strong, from her initial descent on a huge brass ring from the grid throughout the joyous production. The choreography and direction by Dana Solimando, with co-directorial support from Scott Faris was energetic and advanced the fable-like plot of Pippin, which is a bit creaky IMHO as musicals go. Nevertheless, the cast and creative team embraced the play and rendered it fully on stage much to the vocal delight of the audience.
Walks on Monday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Saturday at the reservoir gave me the necessary exercise for the week, but by Saturday afternoon, I was pretty zonked. I succumbed to a two hour nap on the couch before leaping up at about 3:45PM ready to go explore my city. I went over to the LA County Museum of Art (LACMA) for a late afternoon exploration of a few exhibits of interest. By the time I got home, I was well and truly knackered, and slept 12 hours that night with some assistance from my new bestie, Mel Atonin.
Saturday I was also on the hunt for large earrings, but hadn’t found any at the museum store so resorted to a trip the next day to Macy’s, where I found a huge cache of fun big earrings, including a pair suitable for my Halloween adventure in North Hollywood last night on Simpson, courtesy of my colleague Ann.
Sunday promised a visit with my super talented artist nibling, Niki, who brought over amazing homemade soup which we ate while we played a silly game I’d bought on Facebook. I love their incredible passion about the work they are doing now and always cherish their visits. You can see some of Niki’s work here. They have a very busy schedule coming up in 2024 with five showings in Los Angeles, Montana, and New York. We laughed a lot, interspersed with deep conversations about what it means to be humans marred by life and making creative hay of it. Or I guess more accurately, in their case, clay of it.
Don’t be scared.
Halloween arrived, and I embraced the day with my new look, complete with large earrings. At the eye doctor that morning, the earrings provoked a conversation with my doctor about candy corns, which had been covered in depth that morning by the New York Times.
Later that afternoon, I drove to North Hollywood to try to be there by 5:30 when the “baby trick-or-treaters arrive.” Traffic was truly scary, but in spite of that I got there around 6:00PM. The evening was a delight, with all sorts of kids coming around for candy and toys, and Ann and I walking the neighborhood to appreciate all the major creative talent that resides in that neighborhood.
It was a blast and though I tired out by about 8:15, I’m so pleased to have gone and seen the Halloween chaos. When my family lived in Van Nuys, our Halloweens were epic, with hundreds of children coming by for candy. I was so happy to see that that tradition hasn’t stopped.
All of this to say, Don’t be scared. Live your best life and be grateful for the elipses between not feeling good and not being curious. Endeavor to make those as short as possible.
lifeinthethe8tre 