Laughter and Tears at Swan Lake
Monday night our class attended Swan Lake performed by world renowned Royal Ballet. The dancers seemed to float and leap effortlessly across the stage. The ballerina who played the Swan Queen seemed to summon the spirit of a swan (like in Hot Rod). The choreography, which remained true to the performance from the late nineteenth century, beautifully imitated the characteristic movements of swans.
During the second act, the swan queen and the prince moved in sophisticated, synchronized patterns while the virtuoso harpist played an incredible solo…and I lost it. Not only did I cry during the performance of Swan Lake, I also laughed. At the end of the ballet the Swan Queen and prince kill themselves by swimming out into a storm together. While it sounds romantic, the ballet’s portrayal was anticlimactic. Unexpectedly both jump, not to gloriously or gracefully, off a rock hidden in the corner of the stage. Apparently the rock represented a precipice over the lake. Though dead, their souls come together as they are carried on a large coach. My friend Becky mistook the Victorian carriage to be a large chicken. In her defense the extravagant set design made it difficult to distinguish.
The Magical Year of Thinking
Tonight I attended a one woman show portraying the author Joan Didion. The hour and a half monologue derived from Didion’s novel The Magical Year of Thinking. (I was skeptical because my only exposure to Didion was from an essay, Living like Weasels where she graphically describes a weasel going for the jugular.) The famous British actress impressed the audience with her acting ability, but in my opinion the language stole the show. In a stream of consciousness style, the author recreates her thought process in dealing with the death of her husband and daughter. She attempts to reveal the disparity of how we imagine anguish and actually experiencing the emotion.
During the second act, the swan queen and the prince moved in sophisticated, synchronized patterns while the virtuoso harpist played an incredible solo…and I lost it. Not only did I cry during the performance of Swan Lake, I also laughed. At the end of the ballet the Swan Queen and prince kill themselves by swimming out into a storm together. While it sounds romantic, the ballet’s portrayal was anticlimactic. Unexpectedly both jump, not to gloriously or gracefully, off a rock hidden in the corner of the stage. Apparently the rock represented a precipice over the lake. Though dead, their souls come together as they are carried on a large coach. My friend Becky mistook the Victorian carriage to be a large chicken. In her defense the extravagant set design made it difficult to distinguish.
The Magical Year of Thinking
Tonight I attended a one woman show portraying the author Joan Didion. The hour and a half monologue derived from Didion’s novel The Magical Year of Thinking. (I was skeptical because my only exposure to Didion was from an essay, Living like Weasels where she graphically describes a weasel going for the jugular.) The famous British actress impressed the audience with her acting ability, but in my opinion the language stole the show. In a stream of consciousness style, the author recreates her thought process in dealing with the death of her husband and daughter. She attempts to reveal the disparity of how we imagine anguish and actually experiencing the emotion.
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