Archives for October 2006

“As of now at least, more good people are to be encountered in America than in Europe. Theirs is, however, a somewhat coarse and seemingly careless goodness because there is a low level of psychological intensity in human exchanges here, both of the good and the bad.”

Czeslaw Milosz, foreword to Aleksander Wat, My Century

For the last two weeks, sick as a dog and huddled hermitlike in my bed. Before that, there was a truly fabulous and entirely computer-free Vegas junket plus the requisite week to prepare and week to recover. Add it all up, and you have one absurdly long absence from this blog, for which I apologize.

Though I’m now on the mend and making public appearances, i.e., at my workplace, I’m not completely recovered. From time to time the coughing up of a lung still seems imminent, and I’m still on my delightful but soporific cough medicine, which seems to come down to an expectorant heavily cut with vicodin. (Which reminds me: new episodes of House return tomorrow, so set your DVRs.) Since the possibility of a secondary pneumonia was raised by my doctor, I’m playing this one conservatively. I’ll be posting this week, but in all likelihood my contributions will be brief and few as I aim for early bedtimes and a reclining rather than upright posture whenever possible. Still and all, it’s nice to be back.

I’m writing from Seattle on Sunday night, having finally come to the end of a long, hectic weekend of theater-related travel and adventures.

On Thursday I flew to Portland, Oregon, where my traveling companion and I picked up a rental car, headed for Hayden Island, and there took up residence on a yacht. That makes our accommodations sound a bit fancier than they really were: the Grand Ronde Place, the yacht-and-breakfast where I spent my two nights in Portland, is a thirty-four-foot sailboat whose interior is comparable in size to a motor home. The “stateroom,” not surprisingly, was a bit on the snug side, but I’d always wanted to sleep on a boat, the owner-host was wonderfully considerate, and all in all we couldn’t have been happier. Should you find yourself in Portland and feel like staying somewhere out of the ordinary, I recommend the Grand Ronde Place very enthusiastically.

On Friday morning we drove south to the Gordon House, the only Frank Lloyd Wright-designed building in the Pacific Northwest that’s open to the public. Designed in 1957 and built seven years later, it’s a two-story Usonian house that came within weeks of being torn down when a Philistine with too much money bought the lot on which it stood and decided that he’d prefer living in a McMansion. Thanks to a last-minute rescue effort by the Frank Lloyd Wright Conservancy, the house was dismantled in 2000 and moved twenty-four miles to the Oregon Garden, where it can now be viewed by interested visitors. We spent an hour and a half touring the house and grounds, and–as always–I came away wishing I could live in so perfectly conceived and executed a building. In the evening we saw Portland Center Stage’s production of West Side Story, performed in the company’s brand-new Gerding Theater, a 599-seat proscenium-stage house located in what used to be the Portland Armory.

At noon on Saturday we took the Amtrak Cascades to Seattle, an afternoon-long train trip through Oregon and Washington that left us with just enough time to dine on crabcakes at the Dahlia Lounge. Sunday, by contrast, was a triple-header: brunch with Mr. Rifftides, a matin

I’m on the way back from Seattle. See you Tuesday!

“The soul is no traveler; the wise man stays at home, and when his necessities, his duties, on any occasion call him from his house, or into foreign lands, he is at home still and shall make men sensible by the expression of his countenance that he goes, the missionary of wisdom and virtue, and visits cities and men like a sovereign and not like an interloper or a valet.”

Ralph Waldo Emerson, “Self-Reliance”

I review three shows in this morning’s Wall Street Journal drama column. Two are on Broadway–The Times They Are A-Changin’ and Butley–while the third, No Exit, is currently playing at Hartford Stage in Connecticut:

The buzz on “The Times They Are A-Changin’,” the new Twyla Tharp-Bob Dylan jukebox musical, was devastatingly negative. Such omens of impending doom are usually right, but I hoped for the best anyway. Mr. Dylan is one of the greatest songwriters of the postwar era and Ms. Tharp one of its most admired choreographers, so how bad could it be? Now I know: “The Times They Are A-Changin'” is so bad that it makes you forget how good the songs are….

Alan Bates won a Tony for his performance in the original production of “Butley,” which was by all accounts spectacularly memorable. Now Nathan Lane is starring in the first Broadway revival of Simon Gray’s harrowing 1971 play about a seedy, self-loathing professor of a certain age whose life is falling apart. I never saw Mr. Bates in “Butley,” whether on stage or in Harold Pinter’s 1974 film version, thus making it possible for me to view Mr. Lane with an innocent eye. It’s a show he’s wanted to do for years, so I’m sorry to say that his interpretation of the title role is an honorable failure….

Have you heard the one about three unhappy people locked in a small room for all eternity? Most theatergoers know the premise of “No Exit,” Jean-Paul Sartre’s 1940 play about life in hell, and can probably even quote its best-remembered line, “Hell is other people.” But “No Exit” is more talked about than performed–it hasn’t been seen on Broadway since 1946, when John Huston directed the American premiere–so it’s worth paying a visit to Hartford to see Jerry Mouawad’s wonderfully imaginative production….

No free link. To read the whole thing, go out and buy a copy of today’s morning’s Journal, then turn to the “Weekend Journal” section. Better yet, go here to subscribe to the Online Journal, which will give you on-the-spot access to the complete text of my review, plus a plethora of other good pieces.

In my next “Sightings” column, to be published in Saturday’s Wall Street Journal, I take a look at Martin Scorsese’s recent announcement that he wants to devote himself to directing small-scale, low-budget films: “I think I am finding that when there are very big budgets there is less risk that can be taken.” Is there any possibility that he means what he says–and if so, is there any chance that he’ll be any good at it?

To find out, pick up a copy of tomorrow’s Journal, where you’ll find my column in the “Pursuits” section.

“You have learnt something. That always feels at first as if you have lost something.”

George Bernard Shaw, Major Barbara