Bits and Pieces

It's been a good weekend. Friday I made beef stew, fed it to harrock and tirinian, and stashed a bunch for later. (It's weird. Like knitting, my enjoyment of cooking comes much more from making the thing and not from having (eating, wearing) the thing. I never eat so little as when I'm spending all day cooking.)

Saturday was a Day of Laziness, and then went to MTG's Pippin. I started out a bit put off, as the chorus had spent the pre-show time shrieking and running around like demented six-year-olds after too much sugar, trying to convince the audience to give them piggyback rides. In retrospect, I suppose this might have been a directorial decision to portray the Players as Bad and Childish. Or maybe not. Anyway, the show itself was fun. The Leading Player as a woman worked well, and she, plus all the traditional female leads, were impressive. Pippin was expressive and adorable, and I would have loved him if he could just have projected on the soft bits and not just the loud ones.

Sunday, we Descended With Cheeses upon twinknj, which was a lovely afternoon, especially since they had some Cheese of their own. This evening was No Child... at the ART. (For reference, there was no writhing on the floor in this one. This might be the first Mainstage production with none; neither The Onion Cellar nor Invincible Summer had any, but they were both at Zero Arrow). The thing about one-person shows (at least, the ones with multiple roles) is that I never quite lose sight of the fact that it's one person, and the technical artistry of wearing so many faces. With a standard play, I can immerse myself enough to think that these are the actual people that I'm watching. Actors with talent enough to make it look like they're not acting at all (though I am less fooled by actors that I've begun to recognize). When it's just the one person, the amount of talent and work necessary to shift between the roles is always obvious. The story (inner city school, problem class...) is kind of cliche, but the actress/author makes them real enough, and then mesmerizing as she portrays them all. And now, I'm home again, with a hot buttered rum, listening to the sleet or rain or whatever that is, on the window, but I'm warm and cozy inside.