Hedwig and the Angry Inch

I recently went to see Neil Patrick Harris in "Hedwig and the Angry Inch" on Broadway.  I'd seen the movie, so I was familiar with the story; I'd also listened to the soundtrack several times, and love the music.  The review in the NYTimes was outstanding (and Ben Brantley is hard to impress).  Plus, who doesn't love NPH?

All this is to say that I went into the show with sky-high expectations.

And I was completely blown away.

For those unfamiliar with the show, it's basically a 2-hour monologue by Hedwig, as she reflects on her life.  It's punctuated with rock music, which Hedwig also performs.  The actor playing this role is on stage, at the center of attention, for the entire time, singing and dancing and climbing all over the set.  The physical stamina simply to get through the show is incredible.

Hedwig's life has not always been kind to her, and there are several quieter moments between the rock'n'roll - during these moments, NPH would take the time and allow Hedwig to process what has happened to her.  Sometimes there would be absolute silence for a long stretch (it felt like at least 2 minutes to me), and you could hear a pin drop in that theatre.  He had such command of the stage that the audience was his to do with, as he wished.

I can't imagine doing this show 8 times a week - the emotional roller coaster is so intense, even as an audience member, and I was at the 7PM show (ended around 9); there was another show starting at 10.  It's completely unbelievable to me that anyone could do that entire show again with only an hour to recover.

Beyond simply the physical and emotional requirements of performing the role, I was blown away by NPH's command of the character.  As I said, he's on stage without a break for nearly 2 hours.  In that time, he did not break character for a single millisecond.  He completely embodied his character, from the way he stood, the way he spoke, the way he moved, the way he carried himself, the way he had very natural-looking character tics.  It was amazing to watch - he was completely invisible as himself.

In the movie, all the flashbacks are shown as they happened - with various other characters interacting with Hedwig.  In the show, she merely tells us about her past.  And I actually preferred this.  Without the distractions of other performers, Hedwig's life (and pain) became much clearer.  And with such amazing acting, it was impossible not to be affected.

I wanted to meet NPH at the stage door after the show - to get a picture and autograph, yes, but also to tell him how much I enjoyed his performance.  (Unfortunately, with only one hour between shows, he didn't greet audience members.)  On the one hand, I'm sure that he knows how much we (as an audience) appreciated his work - we were abundantly clear during the performance and curtain call.  On the other hand, this was the best evening of theatre I've had in a very long time, and I wanted to tell him so.

On a personal note, while I was watching the show, it brought into focus why I love being in theatre so much.  I want to be as good an actor as he is (I know I'm not that talented, but hey, it's a goal) - and I want to be on a stage, fully in character, singing and dancing and in the spotlight, holding the audience's attention completely.  Something to keep working for. :-)

"Everything I want"

This is inspired by this post on Veronica Varlow's blog.  She's doing a series on "getting everything you want in life," and this particular post was about taking risks.  At first I was disappointed, because I feel like there isn't a goal that I'm working toward, or some fabulous passion that I need to follow no matter what.  The truth is, I like my boring life.  I like my job; I like my hobbies; I like my house.  None of it is particularly exciting, but I find it all enjoyable.  I don't feel like I need to take risks to live in the moment.

But then I was thinking about some other stuff I've been dealing with; namely: guilt.  I realized somewhat recently that I carry around a ton of guilt, often for things I can't control.  I feel guilty about everything.  Pick a topic.  Every other sentence I say starts with "Sorry."

Ever since I realized how much (unnecessary) guilt I feel, I've been trying to figure out (a) why and (b) how to change my outlook.  The "why" was kind of easy - I think if I feel bad about screwing up, it'll prevent me from screwing up again.  I think if I feel guilty enough about things I should change, I'll work harder to change them.  Never mind that some (most) of these things are out of my control, or in the past.  The guilt just clings forever.

Now on to (b).  This is harder.  I'm terrified of giving up my guilt.  I'm so used to it - it's almost like security blanket.  What if I start living guilt-free, and then I start thinking I can do no wrong, and I turn into a total hedonist?  I know it's not likely, but I keep clutching onto that guilt like it's the lifeline keeping me from drowning in selfishness.

And, in a vicious cycle, I feel like I must be a terrible person (or at least not a very good one) if I feel so guilty all the time.  And then I feel guilty for being a terrible person.  And repeat.

So, going back to VeVa's blog.  What I want in life is to feel better about myself.  To not hold so many self-grudges.  To let things go.  To learn from mistakes, and then move on.

In my first 24 hours, I made a conscious effort to not let my mind run through those same old ruts.  I tried to catch any negative thoughts, take a deep breath, and let the thought go with the exhalation.  I also promised myself that if I did fall into the old traps, I wouldn't feel guilty about feeling guilty.  (Yup.)

At one point today, I took a moment to try to think of myself how I imagine others see me.  And you know what?  I think, objectively, I'm a pretty decent person.  I care a lot about others.  I do my best.  I'm honest to a fault.  I give others the benefit of the doubt and try to see things from their point of view.

It was eye-opening.  I always think of myself through this veil of "If only I could be better," and it makes me seem like a failure in my own eyes.

So, for the next 7 days, I'm going to try to congratulate myself when I do something well, or treat someone with kindness, or handle a situation with aplomb.  Just a quick, "Hey, good for you!" to recognize that I don't suck at everything.

I know I'll make mistakes, and there are times I'll still feel guilty, but I'm going to focus on giving myself more positive encouragement, rather than beating myself down.

*teeters at edge of cliff*
*flexes wings*
*and...jump!*

The Opera

Recently I went to my very first opera.  Wait, let me back up a bit...

The overture to the Magic Flute is on one of the Mozart compilation cd's that I own.  I always liked it, so a few years ago I had the bright idea to get a recording of the whole opera.  It's perfect study / work music, since all the lyrics are in German so I can't get distracted trying to sing along.  And, it's about two and a half hours long - perfect for a study session.  Anyway, I wound up listening to it a lot in grad school and I grew to really enjoy it.  So I started checking the Philly Opera schedule from time to time, hoping they'd do a production.

Finally, this year, they did.  I pretty much had to go (even though the tickets were more expensive than I'd expected).  I didn't have anyone to go with, but that's ok.  I got dolled up, took the train into town, and found my seat at the Academy of Music.

Quick sidetrack: the Academy is a beautiful building, with wonderful acoustics.  There's a newer Performing Arts Center (the Kimmel) just down the street, and don't get me wrong, the Kimmel Center is very nice, but - the Academy is sort of what I picture when I think of going to the theatre.  Maybe it's because, when I was young, my mom took me to see the Nutcracker there.  Maybe it's the ornate decorations, the gilded instruments in relief lining the balcony, the painted ceiling murals, the chandelier.  Maybe it's the gaslight lamps on the exterior.

I'll admit I was a little nervous before the show started.  Opera has always had a veneer of the hoity-toity, and I was afraid it'd be too stuffy for me.  I needn't have worried.  "The Magic Flute" is a fairytale, about a prince who must pass several trials in order to prove himself and win the heart of the princess.  It's also a comedy, and this production really played up the comedic elements of the story.  The second male lead (Papageno) was hysterical.  He was such a good comic actor that at times I'd forget what a wonderful bass voice he had - until he sang his next aria.  The three "ladies" were also pitch-perfect (pun totally intended).  Their voices blended beautifully, and they also played up the comedy, causing more than a few guffaws from the audience.

The set was also interesting.  It was designed as a labyrinth through which the characters travelled as they moved from trial to trial.  The pieces of "hedge" could be moved and reorganized to provide a variety of courtyards and corridors in the labyrinth; at one point the three "spirit guides" even appeared on top of the hedge and sang down to the princess wandering below them.

But my favorite was undoubtedly the Queen of the Night.  She's the villainess, and she doesn't appear much - just one aria in each act, and a few minutes to be banished at the end.  However, her two arias are the highlight of the vocal pieces (in my opinion).  Her aria in the second act is my favorite piece in the opera.  It's also incredibly difficult.  As she stepped onstage to begin it, I had a moment of concern.  Years ago, when I bought the cd, I'd done some research on which recording was considered the "best."  So I was used to listening to this song being spot-on, each note perfectly placed and supported.  Who knows how many takes they did in the recording studio to get that right?  Would I be disappointed by a live version?

Yeah, that was unnecessary.  She hit it out of the park.  It was absolutely mesmerizing.  I'd overheard two gentlemen sitting behind me when they were discussing the opera during intermission, and heard enough to realize that they come to the opera with some regularity.  When the Queen of the Night finished her aria, I heard a soft "Wow" from behind me.  And, yes, she was that good.

I'll admit that I don't know when I'll go to the opera again.  Yes, I had a spectacular time, but I was also very familiar with the music.  And, let's face it, The Magic Flute is an incredibly accessible piece of theatre.  I even saw some teenage girls in the audience - not something I necessarily expected to see.  But, having seen my first opera, I'm no longer intimidated by the concept.  It can be a really fun night of theatre - even when sung in German, performing music that was written 222 years ago.

"She's a bass!"

When I get sick, I lose my voice.  When it comes back, it starts in the lower registers first.  This makes me sound very different from my normal self, as demonstrated in this phone call (note: I am an only child):

Dad: "Hello?"
me: "Hey Dad."
Dad: "Hello?"
me (straining to be louder): "Hey Dad."
Dad (totally puzzled): "Dad...?"
me: "Can you hear me?"
Dad: "Who is this?"
me: "It's (me)."
Dad (dead serious): "No, it can't be."
me (trying to scream): "It's me.  My voice is ruined because I'm sick."
Dad: "Wow.  I never would have recognized you.  What happened to your voice?"
me: *headdesk*

I Can't Cook

I've been feeling under the weather, so I decided to try Wil Wheaton's vegetable soup recipe.  However, the recipe looked a liiiiiiiiittle out of my depth.  All that chopping?  I'm way too lazy.  If I buy vegetables that need to be chopped, they simply won't get eaten.  So instead I created a Cheater Version:

1) Read original recipe four times.  Decide it looks way too hard.
2) Go to food store.  Rejoice that they have a pre-chopped carrot/celery/onion mix (guys, this was created for people like me).  Buy  two of them.
3) Add pre-sliced mushrooms, a can of diced tomatoes, 2 cans of tomato sauce, and garbanzo beans to the cart.
4) Toss in some frozen dinners, since you're there.  No need to come back later when you decide cooking is too hard.
5) Get home and realize you forgot the bread.  Decide that chips & salsa is just as good as bread, right?
6) Scrounge for large soup pot.  Realize large soup pot has never been used before and needs to be cleaned.
7) Clean out all the science experiments from the fridge, while you're at it.
8) Toss all ingredients in the pot and turn on heat.  Resolve to either clean stovetop or hire a cleaning service.
9) Google cleaning services in your area and submit an online price estimate form.
10) Put on a load of laundry.  Discover that enough laundry has accumulated for three loads, and there's still a load in the dryer that hasn't been folded. (yay.)
11) Play on twitter and pinterest until the soup is ready.
12) Realize you don't have a ladle.  Sing "Ladle, ladle, ladle, I made you out of clay..." to the tune of the Dreidel Song while you open every drawer and cupboard, thinking that a ladle may have magically appeared in your kitchen when you weren't paying attention.
13) Give up and use a spoon instead.
14) Eat.

I can't believe I wrote the whoooooooole thing...

I just finished my first NaNoWriMo.  With three hours and fifty-three words to spare.  :-)

I kinda can't believe I did it.

When I heard about it, it sounded like something I'd like to do...once I was finished grad school.  So I graduated last December and started trying to think of an idea.  My plan was to work on hashing out the plot, setting, characters, etc. between December and October, so that when November came I could just write.

Well, I didn't do quite as much planning as I'd hoped (I was originally going to make a very detailed outline in October.  That didn't happen.) but I guess it was enough for me to expand on and flesh out into a 50,000-word bohemeth.

I'd been telling myself all year that I was going to treat this more as a writing exercise than a chore.  If my story only lasted 20,000 words, then that was 20,000 words I wouldn't have otherwise written, and that's still an accomplishment.  I promised myself that I wouldn't get uptight if I fell behind schedule or didn't finish the storyline in November.

And then as I got closer and closer, I started thinking, "Hey, maybe I can make this 50,000 words after all.  And maybe I can even finish it in November.  I mean, maybe.  Still no pressure, right?"

So overall it was fun.  There were definitely times when I wanted to do something else, or just put the computer away.  There were times when other stuff came up and I didn't have the time I wanted to do my writing for the day.  But somehow I managed to do it.

And now I can't wait until next year.

Hair Stylin'

My hair is very straight and flat, so I go to a little old Japanese man to get my hair done.  He knows how to make it look nice, with more volume and movement, and he's also hilarious.  The last time I got my hair cut was just before I was going to London for a trip.  When my hairdresser found out, he said, "Oh, I'll give you an extra-nice hair style for when you flirt with all the British boys!"

This time, we were talking about the unusually warm summer here.  I mentioned that it hasn't been too much of a problem for me, as I enjoy the hot weather.  My hairdresser immediately advised me to insist to my (imaginary) boyfriend that he have a home in Hawai'i.  He said, "It should be in your contract.  If your boyfriend doesn't have a home in Hawai'i, you cannot date him.  Make him sign that."

I love my hairdresser.  I told him to never change.