Walk in the Glow of Each Other's Majestic Presence

Last night I was trying to write a prayer/meditation for today's service. I had a hard time even getting started and then really didn't feel like I was getting anywhere good, even when I started writing. Perhaps, I thought, I had exhausted my inspiration in writing my speech about Theatre@First for the Women's Alliance meeting on Friday, or with the previous post on friendship. And then I was struck with inspiration. I've been thinking a lot about seeing people, about being seen, and I thought of a way to incorporate that concept. And then I realized how challenging that would be for some people in the congregation and the additional time it would take in an already busy service and how much it would interrupt the celebratory tone we were striving for today, with the kickoff of our Meetinghouse (Capital) Campaign. So I ditched that idea, or shelved it for another, more contemplative service, and went back to what I had and finished that, feeling entirely dissatisfied with it. It's a lot more theist than I usually strive for--as a secular humanist raised in a theist tradition, drifting more toward prayer feels lazy to me--and I didn't find a way to involve any of the miraculous science I've thought about this week and that I usually work into these. I mentioned my dissatisfaction to the minister before the service--that I thought what I had was fine, but truly lacking in inspiration, and we commiserated a bit about doing this when you're not feeling it.

And then, perhaps "of course," I got more requests than ever from people who have never spoken to me before that I send them a copy. One woman asked where I had found it and when I explained that I'd written it last night she was shocked and demanded to know however I had learned to do that. Even the minister whispered to me as I took my seat again, thanking me for leading her into prayer in the midst of today's chaos. I guess that's what I get for trying to control a numinous process.

( What I Wrote )

I'm having this conversation with Dayenne, the actor in question, who has a different perspective from many of my readers here, as an actor and a black woman and the person in the spotlight.

But since I've had such valuable conversations about it here in the past, I would like to get any thoughts that you have. I'm making this a public entry so that you can feel free to point other people to it that you think would have relevant perspectives, but I'm not going to post it more publicly, both because of its work-in-progress nature and because I simply do not have the available time this week to monitor and participate in a wider conversation.

As most of you will remember, in 2009 there was an extensive discussion about my previous casting of a black woman in Never After. In Pride & Prejudice I have a similar situation. I think that some of the significant details are different and it is my hope that I can handle it better this time around.

Dayenne, a black woman (the description she uses of herself), is playing the role of Mrs. Bennet. She is a fantastic actor (some of you may have seen her as Vera in The Oldest Profession). I am delighted to be working with her and she is excited to have been cast in a role for which she is not "to type". As in the Never After situation, she is the only major character of color in the show, due to the demographics of our audition pool (something Theatre@First continues to work to address). Unlike the Never After situation, Mrs Bennet is not a villain. She is a silly, self-centered, rather vulgar and stupid woman whose sole purpose in life is to see her daughters well married. I do not think that these qualities play into strong stereotypes about black women and it was my hope that, if anything, Dayenne being a black woman would make audiences reconsider the character and possibly find her more sympathetic.

Once again, however, I've failed to consider all the ramifications. Dayenne has pointed out to me that her being a black woman makes the higher class characters' disapproval of Mrs Bennet take on a potentially racist tone. The two characters whose disapproval is strongest (Lady Catherine and Miss Bingley) could be said to be villains and to each receive defeat, while Mrs Bennet comes out a winner, so that's something. Her children and husband reveal exasperation and condescension towards her--is that also going to be perceived as racially tinged?

We've still got a couple of weeks before opening night. Do you have any suggestions on what I can do on-stage to affect audience perceptions of the overall show's attitudes? I have asked Dayenne for her thoughts and if she would be comfortable with me including something about this in my Director's Note in the program, which was a suggestion last time around. I've got some ideas, but I'd love to hear your thoughts on what--if anything--that should be, and any other thoughts and suggestions you have.

In the long run, I'm going to keep reaching out to actors of all descriptions and encouraging them to audition for me and casting them primarily on the basis of their talent and feel for particular roles. And I'm going to keep stumbling and learning and trying to do better by individual actors, by T@F, by our audience and by our community. And I expect that I'm going to keep falling short and begging pardon and hoping to do better, show by show, year by year, being stung by my shortcomings yet grateful for the opportunities, as best I can. Your help in this process is profoundly appreciated.

Last night, at Chez Henri, the song He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother was playing. It made me think about how my understanding and appreciation of certain songs has shifted over time.

The Police were one of the first bands I really loved. When I was fourteen, the song Every Breath You Take was just amazing to me--so romantic, so thrilling, so sexy. King of Pain, on the other hand, was just okay. I mean, it's got a wonderfully eerie sound and Sting's voice is so poignant and powerful, but there was no resonance. By the time I reached my thirties, I had "stood here before inside the pouring rain, with the world turning circles running round my brain" and King of Pain had become a great song, while Every Breath You Take is a song about stalking, which is not romantic, not sexy and is, as a great man once said, "creepy as fuck," albeit still pretty catchy.

When I was introduced to The Indigo Girls, my junior year of college, Closer to Fine was a heartfelt cry of meaning and truth, while Love's Recovery seemed pretty, but sort of maudlin. Washing dishes in London more than ten years later, having just heard the news of a friend's divorce, I cried to hear Love's Recovery--such a beautiful song of the sad, yet hopeful, side of love--while Closer to Fine still has a lovely lilt, but its sophmoric surety has come to grate a bit.

And I wonder if the time will ever come that I don't really hate He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother.

miss_chance has famously said that, despite having done a lot of physical labor in her lifetime, the heaviest thing she's ever lifted was the telephone receiver.

I had a phone call to make that was difficult for me. Not the call itself--I knew I'd just be leaving a message--but the symbolism of doing it, the ball that it would start rolling. I had it on my to-do list today. I told Jason that I was going to make the call. I made the other two related-but-easier calls and then I paid some bills and started playing a computer game. And then I caught myself--none of your tricks, now, brain!--picked up the phone and made the call.

Call made on the first day I intended to make it, FTW!

Tonight we took Alice to see The Big Apple Circus.

( Thoughts on seeing a circus with my daughter and my right brain )

It was a great show.

This is a fantastic post about accepting yourself as a fat person and about The Fantasy of Being Thin.

Thanks to gilana for the pointer!

I just read that Putin has suspended Russia's participation in the Conventional Forces in Europe treaty. Most of you have probably never even heard of that one, but I spent the summer after my junior year monitoring the negotiations. I know a lot more about what makes something a tank than your average suburban housewife.

That was a very different time, both for me and the world. The other part of my job that summer was organizing a conference for members of the US and Soviet (remember the Soviet Union?) military-industrial complexes on how to convert to a peacetime economy. I was living in a house of twenty-five brilliant, sexy, fun, nutty and so-very-young adults. Grunge had yet to make its way out of Seattle--although Nirvana had played a dorm party I was at a few months earlier--and rap music still couldn't get much play on the radio. My relationship with my parents was pretty distant. Bush pere was in office, but we had yet to send any troops to the Sandbox.

Funny how nostalgic one can be for a treaty.

I've noticed the "interests meme" going around again and it always makes me think that I should add things to my list. And then I look at my list (fine dining, history, movies, reading aloud, science fiction, theatre, travel, wine, yoga) and think "yeah, that about covers it". But I'll grant you that it's not very specific. So, gentle readers, I'm taking suggestion: what should I add to my interests? I'm thinking "parenting," at the very least.