Self embarked on this trip to see plays.
She’s always felt that Chicago is a much more exciting theater city than New York.
Every time she comes (this is only her 3rd time), she sees plays. Didn’t Second City originate here? Second City once did a play on Rod Blagojevich’s hair. It was called “Rod Blagojevich: Superstar.” Second City is sort of like LA’s Upright Citizens Brigade.
Now Rahm Emmanuel’s in charge.
Last night, self and poet Angela Narciso Torres went to see “Smokefall.”
As in her last play at the Goodman, “Desire Under the Elms,” the set was a mix of realistic and symbolic elements. In “Desire,” there was a huge carcass of a butchered pig hanging above the stage (To give credit where credit is due, it was Angela who remembered about the pig carcass. Self is embarrassed to admit that the one memory that burns most brightly in her mind about “Desire Under the Elms” is Pablo Schreiber, Liev’s half-brother, appearing in the buff). In last night’s “Smokefall” there was a 1950s kind of kitchen, yellow table and chairs, and a deep red sofa. At the very back of the stage was a slanted gray platform, which characters used to run up and down or to declaim inner monologues and so forth. Clever!
After the play, there was Q & A. Self must say, the first time she ever experienced this kind of after-performance discussion was at the Goodman. Now Cal Shakes has started doing this (at least, they did it last year, after the production of Wilde’s “Lady Windermere’s Fan”) It is wonderful to have discussion, right after, because everyone’s head is still popping with ideas. There was a young man in the audience, sitting in the row directly in front of self and her friend, who looked like the Second Coming of Chris Blackett, even down to the voice (Chris is self’s nephew; he lives in New York City).
Someone asked why the play was called “Smokefall,” which was a very good question. And the Goodman’s artistic director (who had said he would be joined by some of the actors, but wasn’t) said the word “Smokefall” was taken from a T. S. Eliot poem called “Burnt Norton.” Here’s an excerpt (which was printed on a bookmark inserted into the play’s programme):
Time past and time future
Allow but a little
To be conscious is not
to be in time
But only in time
can the moment in the
The moment in the arbour
where the rain beat,
The moment in the
draughty church at
Be remembered; involved
with past and future.
Only through time
time is conquered.
— T. S. Eliot, “Burnt Norton” (1935)
Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.