From Godot to Glover - Eight Days in The City That Never Sleeps...

New York, of course, is a theatre lover's mecca.  From the splashy stages of Broadway to the far-reaches of Brooklyn, there is always a show for someone to see and an event for another to create.

That the performances and opportunities are never limited to traditional plays or confined to regulated spaces is what makes this city's offerings so vibrant.  For those of us who live here, the options are (honestly) endless.

In the past eight days I have seen a masterful dress rehearsal, one lavish Shakespearean tragedy, a dance showcase that left me breathless, and (while making my way home from the dentist) I found myself surrounded by costumed characters at the West Village Halloween parade and on a crowded subway train.  

If you are visiting the Big Apple on October 31st, you don't need to spend $100 on a plush Broadway seat.  Just cough up $2.50 for a Metro card and watch the drama unfold.

Brandon Stanton's subway shot best summarizes the Halloween
street theatre of New York.
http://www.humansofnewyork.com

If you do have time and money, however, there are some performances that are well-worth your investment.

Photo: Tristram Kenton

One of the standout moments of my unscripted and inspiring week was attending the dress rehearsal of Samuel Beckett's "Waiting for Godot". Under the direction of Sean Mathias, this version of the absurdist play stars Ian McKellen and Patrick Stewart.  The two "Sirs" (who are pals off-stage) are fun to watch, but Mr. McKellen's charming interpretation of a vaudevillian hobo seems to echo the true spirit of the playwright. The actor who really held my attention, however, was Billy Crudup. Playing the slavish role of Lucky, the 43 year old actor was unrecognizable and seemingly ageless. He disappeared beneath a bowler cap and a mop of sheet-white hair, and he nearly stole the show. 

If you are in Manhattan and you want to see a worthy production of a masterpiece, get your tickets here: http://www.twoplaysinrep.com

Photo: T. Charles Erickson

I was less impressed with Ethan Hawke's turn as Macbeth.  His shouts a murmurs overwhelmed any nuance the actor could have brought to the role. I attended Jack O'Brien's interpretation of the bloody spectacle with 100+ students, parents, and teachers from the school where I work.  On the whole, I think we were collectively impressed with O'Brien's clever re-imagining of the witches (men playing women who manipulate and shape-shift their way through the drama) and Anne-Marie Duff's aggressive Lady Macbeth. The play is in previews at the Lincoln Center. http://www.lct.org/showMain.htm?id=223

Photo: http://visionaryartistrymag.com/2010/11/
savion-glover-transforming-lives-through-tap/

Last night I took the 2 Train to Flatbush for a one-night dance showcase at Brooklyn College. Savion Glover, a tap phenomenon since his childhood, is now the reigning master of the form and with a resume that includes lead roles on Broadway and in film, he's a seasoned star.  In a show called Stepz, Glover shared the stage with a group of talented tappers, but his subtle prowess was mesmerizing. He doesn't seem to have a center of gravity - he simply floats and pounds and skips and shuffles and sweats and smiles his way across the stage.  He's taking the hoofers on tour this month, catch him if you can! http://visionaryartistrymag.com/2010/11/savion-glover-transforming-lives-through-tap/

One Year Later...

One year ago, Hurricane Sandy brought high waters and devastation to many parts of New York and New Jersey.  

On the evening of October 29, 2012, I documented the rising waters as they engulfed the piers and and trails of Brooklyn Bridge Park in the entry Mother Nature and the Metropolis.

This is the same view of that park on the anniversary of Hurricane Sandy:

I do love the riverfront park and the New York attitude of get up, go on, get better - but I also wonder what steps have been taken to protect those newly planted trees and freshly carved trails when the next storm rises up to test us once again.

We are confident, but are we ready?

There's a bit of magic in everything, and some loss to even things out.

Lou Reed (1942-2013)

9/11 + 12

My view tonight from Brooklyn.

Today during our second period class and shortly after observing a moment of silence, my 12th grade students reminded me that the attacks of September 11, 2001 took place during their first full week of school.  They were kindergartners. 

Every year of their academic lives has been marked by war.  

Every year.

We've taught them how to read and write, we've encouraged them to grow and change, but we've handed them a violent legacy of uninterrupted conflict.

And yeah, they're a bit cynical.  They see no end to the saber rattling and airport pat-downs and they don't pretend believe that these battles will ever be won.  

But they aren't defeatists. These high school seniors pay close attention to political possibilities and have little tolerance for platitudes. They don't want to talk about Miley Cyrus because they are much more concerned with Syria. 

War makes them sad and resilience makes them proud.  

The Class of 2014 just seems to be totally unimpressed by the drama of fear.  

Mt Rainier and the Berry Explosion!

In late August I joined an intrepid bunch of campers (9 adults and 10 children) for a weekend camping trip in Mt. Rainier Park in the state of Washington.

The following images were taken on a hike that revealed endless bushes of huckleberries.  

It's always nice to find a few of these yummy berries along the trail, but the abundance of them on this particular day stopped us in our tracks for over an hour.   

After a while, we were competitively shoving as many berries as possible into our mouths.  

You judge the winner:

Sitting on Top of the World

Often I find myself packing too much into one little summer; running from airports and projects to picnics and jobs, I often slam into Labor Day weekend exhausted and unfocused.
  

But this year I made very few summer plans.  

I just let the season unfold.

As a result, I spent a lot of time surfing in the Pacific Ocean. 

I paddled with old friends, new acquaintances, and one adorable seal. The summer of 2013 taught me to slow down and appreciate the power of wind and tide and silence.  I fell down more than I stood up, but I learned to relax - both on the waves and off. 

By late August my body was exhausted but my mind was totally at ease.

Goodbye summer! 

See you on the other side...

Uncredited photo found on Pinterest

"But more wonderful than the lore of old men and the lore of books is the secret lore of the ocean." 

- HP Lovecraft

Seamus Heaney

"I rhyme

 To see myself, to set the darkness echoing"

In 1997, while sitting in a crowded Dublin church awaiting the start of my friend's wedding, I leaned over to fix a disobedient strap on my new sandal and accidentally head-butted the man in front of me.  When he turned around to see who had smacked his skull, I greeted him with a dumbfounded stare.

On that day, Seamus Heaney was the only Nobel Prize winner I had ever met.  He'd been honored with the award in 1995 and he's likely to remain the only Nobel recipient I will ever literally go head to head with in a church or anywhere else.

Later that night, while the reception marquee slowly sunk into the rain-soaked lawn of the bride's family estate, people danced and drank and Seamus Heaney held court at his table.  As I was sitting across from him, he heard my American accent and asked me where I was from.   When I said I was a native of Missoula, Montana he inhaled from his cigar, stared for a moment at the smoke, and then recited from memory this Robert Bly poem about my beloved hometown:

IN A TRAIN

There has been a light snow.

Dark car tracks move in and out of the darkness.

I stare at the train window marked with soft dust.

I have awakened at Missoula, Montana, utterly happy. 

With his rich Derry accent and deep voice humming through each word, everything around me dissolved. I forgot to breathe, I babbled a series of "thank you's", and then I took a long drink of Guinness.  It was my 27th birthday.  I had no idea it would be so special.   

I've had a crush on Seamus Heaney ever since.

He was a poet who gave private moments power and reminded his readers that history is always personal.

On Tuesday I will begin teaching a class of 12th grade Literature students selected poems from Heaney's remarkable body of work. Having led classes through the study of his intimate sonnets and some of his longer and more political pieces for almost a decade, I am often astonished at how fully his words resonate with teenagers.  When he critiques tribalism, teens understand the real implications of inherited animosities and when he links childish imagination to adult longing they recognize the nostalgia that comes with aging.  

Even a difficult poem like "Personal Helicon", one that requires a bit of research and explanation, opens itself up to 9th graders who sometimes want to believe that poetry is beyond them.  It is my favorite poem, and this is a link to Heaney's lovely reading of it: http://www.ibiblio.org/ipa/audio/heaney/personal_helicon.mp3

A few years after my momentous birthday celebration, I read the poem "Scaffolding" at a different wedding.  It's a gentle tribute to the sovereign power of love:

Masons, when they start upon a building,

Are careful to test out the scaffolding;

Make sure that planks won’t slip at busy points,

Secure all ladders, tighten bolted joints.

And yet all this comes down when the job’s done

Showing off walls of sure and solid stone.

So if, my dear, there sometimes seem to be

Old bridges breaking between you and me

Never fear. We may let the scaffolds fall

Confident that we have built our wall.

"Between my finger and my thumb
The squat pen rests; snug as a gun"
Seamus Heaney
April 13, 1939 - August 30, 2013