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Jan. 12th, 2009 12:44 pmAnd just like that, the fog is gone, leaving us with compensatory sunshine and bitter, bitter cold. I have had a whirlwind weekend (what else is new?), comprising of excellent South Indian food (tamarind rice, mmm) and visits to medieval tombs/ruins and watching plays.
I enjoy theatre, but I am not what you would call your regular art-y, festival-hopping theatre buff. As it would happen, my closest friends are the very opposite - and so they usually cajole me into going out with them and I end up witnessing some magnificent performances (this also happens to me with films). And yesterday was fantastic, because while the first play we saw was ridiculously bad (and I'm ENRAGED, because you do not take a play like that and ruin it so completely), the second one was ridiculously good. RIDICULOUSLY. One of my principal complaints about the first performance was that the lead actress was too old to play a vivacious teenage girl, and she mostly ended up parodying herself - which was unfortunate, because it's a very, very powerful role when done right. And then we went to the second performance, where the protagonist is a little boy (he is eight) - and it was played by an actress who is not a day under sixty. She *was* the boy (while wearing a skirt, I add), and while I've always thought the original text to be irritating and overly sentimental, she made me CRY. I've never quite seen anything like it. The cast received a standing ovation, and people whistled and cheered when she was presented with a 'token of appreciation'. The performance made me rethink my earlier assertions about the age of the performer - it's not really about age, is it? It's about how you go about it, and how you convince your audience about the character you're playing. This is also the second performance in the past couple of months which far, far surpassed the text (the first one being an adaptation of Ibsen's When We Dead Awaken, which I watched a couple of weeks ago, again because G. insisted).
In other words, I ♥ my friends.
*
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purimgifts
+ Via friendsfriends: This post by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
cesperanza on literary lesbianism. I absolutely heart this comment: I remember talking to my wgst professor in college, and we totally had conversations about slash's connection to romantic friendship. We also discussions on how slashers' relationships with each other could be considered, idk, long-distance romantic friendships or maybe a 21st-century romantic friendships; rather than flowery letters of the Emily Dickinson type we write each other porn and romantic stories.
I enjoy theatre, but I am not what you would call your regular art-y, festival-hopping theatre buff. As it would happen, my closest friends are the very opposite - and so they usually cajole me into going out with them and I end up witnessing some magnificent performances (this also happens to me with films). And yesterday was fantastic, because while the first play we saw was ridiculously bad (and I'm ENRAGED, because you do not take a play like that and ruin it so completely), the second one was ridiculously good. RIDICULOUSLY. One of my principal complaints about the first performance was that the lead actress was too old to play a vivacious teenage girl, and she mostly ended up parodying herself - which was unfortunate, because it's a very, very powerful role when done right. And then we went to the second performance, where the protagonist is a little boy (he is eight) - and it was played by an actress who is not a day under sixty. She *was* the boy (while wearing a skirt, I add), and while I've always thought the original text to be irritating and overly sentimental, she made me CRY. I've never quite seen anything like it. The cast received a standing ovation, and people whistled and cheered when she was presented with a 'token of appreciation'. The performance made me rethink my earlier assertions about the age of the performer - it's not really about age, is it? It's about how you go about it, and how you convince your audience about the character you're playing. This is also the second performance in the past couple of months which far, far surpassed the text (the first one being an adaptation of Ibsen's When We Dead Awaken, which I watched a couple of weeks ago, again because G. insisted).
In other words, I ♥ my friends.
*
+
purimgifts+ Via friendsfriends: This post by
cesperanza on literary lesbianism. I absolutely heart this comment: I remember talking to my wgst professor in college, and we totally had conversations about slash's connection to romantic friendship. We also discussions on how slashers' relationships with each other could be considered, idk, long-distance romantic friendships or maybe a 21st-century romantic friendships; rather than flowery letters of the Emily Dickinson type we write each other porn and romantic stories.
