Limited Perspective

  Everybody, the play by Branden Jacobs-Jenkins didn’t work for me when I saw it produced by Strawberry Theatre Workshop in 2019. I saw it again the other day, this time produced by UW School of Drama. That one didn't work for me either.  The intent is to have you think about what you would say to Saint Peter when you arrive at the pearly gates. Basically anyway. The UW Drama program explains the play is based on 15th century European stories, which in turn are based on earlier stories from the Buddhist tradition, further east.  The lead character, Everybody, is told by Death he is about to die and will have to give an accounting of his life and face final judgment. There is a negotiation. Death allows him to bring someone or something with him to defend the thesis that he lived a good enough life. Note: I have used he/him pronouns above because the actor playing everybody was male-presenting but the cast is randomized each night, so it could be a different actor in any g...

I had the chance to participate, as a guest, in a Japanese tea ceremony. Attention was called to a banner with Japanese script reading “ichigo ichie,” literally, one time, one meeting. In the larger context, we were told, it means every moment is once-in-a-lifetime. Therefore, hold it close. In the context of the tea ceremony, it meant the tea would be “prepared with sincerity and served with respect.” And it was. No surprise, I related it to theater. That’s what theater is, I think. In preparing, and in serving a performance, the artist honors the moment, creates the moment, even, just as the ones leading the tea ceremony did. It happens once. The moment is over. But it also remains.

 ... now appears in the Sound On Stage blog. Read it here . 

My 2025 in Theatre Speaking of gifts, as we do in the holiday season, I received some special ones in my 2025 year in theatre. Among others, I directed again (twice) and I had a review published. Neither of those things had happened for about a decade. Directing I put my name in to direct a short play for As If Theatre Company's Kenmore Quickies. Surprisingly, they said yes. It was surprising because my experience with directing included one show and one show only. I had produced and directed a short play for the Pocket Theater’s Fringe Explosion in 2015. Their risk and mine paid off. Our show was a success and won the vote for audience favorite. That never would have happened, though, without the excellent script by Vincent Kovar and wonderful actors assigned to the show. It all melded. That led me to the second directing gig. Vincent asked me to direct a staged reading of his play, The Iron Whore for Driftwood Theatre’s First Draft program. Also a success! At the talkback afterwa...

I have a review on the Sound on Stage blog. Here is the link: https://www.thesoundonstage.org/stage-reviews/stage-review-life-on-the-moon-baked-theatre-workshop   Photo credit: Cat Brooks

Look at these two sets. I’m fascinated with sets. The one on the top is for UW Drama’s current play, They Don’t Pay! We Won’t Pay! This photo is from a few steps up the center aisle of the Jones Playhouse during intermission. I hadn’t noticed in-person, but in the photo it almost sort of floats. It reminded me of the set for The Case for the Existence of God at ACT last year, bottom photo, taken from the front row.That set really did just float there. I still can’t articulate what that small, contained space with the lid off did, but it was affecting. Maybe it’s as simple as that. The two characters repeatedly meet in that little office until the drama boils over and the lid comes off. In the UW play, it’s the opposite. The show is a farce (with heart and a real bite.) The characters repeatedly stray off the linoleum squares to play various manic scenes outside the apartment and to talk to you and me in the audience. It’s flat on the ground and connected to the world, not floating at...

  You left ground and sky weeping, mind and soul full of grief. No one can take your place in existence or in absence. - Jalāl ad-Dīn Muhammad Rūmī I shared this quote on Facebook years ago. It’s from the 13th century Persian poet known as Rumi. I don’t know what prompted me to share it at the time, but it came up on my “memories” list recently. I wonder what it means. No one can take your place. That one is easy enough. We all have had the thought that someone we have lost is irreplaceable. But what about the other part, the part that says their absence is irreplaceable? What could that mean? Google AI Overview has this: In existence: Everyone has a singular role and purpose that no one else can fulfill. In absence: The space left by a person's departure is unique and cannot be filled by anyone else. But is that it? Don’t those mean the same thing? David Byrne said, “Say something once. Why say it again?” It seems there could be deeper, less pat, and more contradictory (hopefully,...