We closed the show yesterday afternoon. Relief and sadness. Relief that we pulled it off. To be honest, my first reading of the script did not inspire me, and I thought afterwards, in subsequent reads and readings I grew very attached to the cranky old scientist revolutionary, I was never really confident that audience’s first view of the piece would enthrall. But I guess it did.
Mark Lococo, my husband, did such a great job of making Brecht accessible and strange and robust and beautiful all at the same time. And I ended up liking the play quite a bit, and I guess it translated well. My fellow performers were wonderful. Truly a memorable experience. The sadness is one that I am used to, and my student/actors are not–it’s time to let go of it, and move on. One of them asked me if I was ever sentimental anymore about a show closing. I said no. But no matter what the experience on a show, it’s always hard to close it. I’m glad that I don’t have to yell at a class or two during the day, and then voice Galileo’s opinions for two and half hours at night. But that’s the only part of the experience that weighed on me. It’s a dark play that is intellectually effusive. It’s an angry play that is quite moving. I will think about it for a long time. One of the students received a star named “The Appeal to Reason” star in our honor. It was her closing gift to us all. I was so moved by it. And I was so gratified to know how much this experience meant to her. It has been my understanding that bad theatrical experiences are harder to leave than good ones. It’s harder to leave the meal that didn’t satisfy, or the troubled child, or the unfinished poem. This was a complete pleasure.