Monday, February 25, 2008
Thursday, February 21, 2008
While Sara was in the studio with Leslie, Rufus went exploring. He immediately discovered the mini garbage can containing the cat food and flipped the top off. He immersed his whole snout in the food to chow down and had to be dragged away. Not deterred, he trotted around, gathering scents. The cats, especially Shug, were generally displeased with this intruder, although Nefertiti seemed more fascinated than scared. Shug was emitting operatic cat growls, like a feline version of Il Commendatore in Don Giovanni.
After Rufus was given several dog biscuits, he unsuccessfully tried to get into the litter boxes, compost container, and (again) the cat food can. He discovered the cats' water bowl under a small table and slurped up a drink enthusiastically. Guess all that cat food gave him a powerful thirst. Alas, Shug saw her chance. She crouched on top of the table, silently. When Rufus pulled his big noggin from under the table, Shug smacked him with her left paw right on top of his crown.
"AWOOOOOOO!" bawled the hound. Humiliated, Rufus ran off to his mom in the studio.
Shug posed on top of the table, puffed out to a most impressive size. In her view, the proper hierarchy of beings had been enforced.
Saturday, February 16, 2008
Several years ago I auditioned for a part in that play that was being put on by a local HAWK group at the West End Theater in Gloucester, MA. I'd seen the show and thought it would be great fun except for one monologue. It had made a strong impression on me for it's heavy use of one word that I never liked: the "C" word. That part did go to Sara Slifer who was young and edgy with a lithe and strong dancer's build. She more than did it justice. Watching her perform nightly definately shifted me past a long held view point to a less charged place. I got "The Village" which is the voice of a young woman who had been gang raped by soldiers. I cried when I read it cold for the audition. Of the several times I performed it I always had a strong reaction. It was one of the few monologues that did not elicit laughter and wild applause. At the end of the monologue I'd walk back to my chair while the audience sat in shocked silence. I felt uncomfortable but I wanted to do that part to honor the woman and her words. During the run of the show I performed about five different parts. The lighter ones were fun to do but they lacked the satisfaction of The Village. I loved every aspect of that experience. Directed by and thanks to Lynda Robinson, the group of local women pulled together in a short time. The sum of the parts was definately greater than the (w)hole. A few years later the process was repeated with another run and a slightly different cast with the same positive connections. I never performed The Village again.
Just when I believe that this current generation has the benefit of all those hard won changes, I see that some things persist. I guess I assumed that due to the openness of all kinds of language being used that the shock value of some words has been muffled. This morning Meredith Vieira is interviewing Eve Ensler who wrote the Vagina Monologues and Jane Fonda who was asked to perform the very monologue that I had dreaded. My guess is that she just said the name of the monologue knowing it would draw attention but knowing that in this context there was no pussy footing around the subject. Later Meredith Vieira apologises for causing anyone discomfort. But in the context of the subject which is more important, imparting the power and purpose of this play while educating the viewers or making sure no one is uncomfortable? It is through examining what makes us uncomfortable and why that helps difuse out dated responses. By skirting discomfort growth is curtailed.
Saturday, February 9, 2008
School would have been so different had I known this sooner.