Second weekend of the play, Art. It’s been going well, overall. Mediums-sized audiences. I never now how to respond when people say, “great play” to me afterwards. It’s not actually praise. Which is fine, I don’t want false praise, in fact the whole thing where you come out afterward makes me painfully uncomfortable. “Hi, everyone! Wasn’t I good? Don’t you want to tell me so?”. But that phrase is almost intentionally NOT giving praise, right? I mean, you’re praising the script, but it’d be like saying, “beautiful dress” to a woman who’s all dressed up. Yes, you likely mean she’s looks beautiful, but you very specifically didn’t say that. You said the dress is nice.
The small-ish audiences, though, and the limited number of people who seem willing to really, thoroughly engage with the play – as opposed to viewing as simple entertainment (which I’m not being snobby about, it’s just that this isn’t that kind of play) – makes me kind of relieved that I bailed out of putting on Waiting For Godot last summer. I guess that’s a little more familiar in title, but way more difficult to actually watch. Hm.
Hey, it’s Friday the thirteenth. Apropos of nothing.
Joel Clements 