Memories from The House 2013

I love that the audience part of the theater is called the "house."  It is often even more...it can feel like home.  So while I understand the urge to rate, rank and score the shows we see during the year, I just can't do it.  All those houses welcomed me in with open hearts, and I want to return the favor. 

I see such a cornucopia of shows.  They spill out in every size, shape, color and sound, and it simply wouldn't be fair to the shows, or to someone looking for ideas, to rank what I've seen, as if creating theater is a race to be won.  Yes, if your livelihood depends on making money from a show, the success can be tangibly measured in performances, dollars, contracts, awards.  But as an audience member, I'm not looking for a winner.  In fact, the more winners there are, the happier I am.  Shows don't really "disappoint" me because I don't go in with particular expectations, other than that you engage me in some way that makes me happy, moved, challenged, excited, understood, wistful, surprised, heartbroken...I want to feel something.  And that includes having pure, unadulterated fun.  Or just letting go during an abstract, absurdist piece, and allowing the material take me somewhere, even if I haven't any idea where I'm going.  As I settle into the inky darkness of the theater, letting go of my need to anticipate, understand, analyze, respond, explain; listening to the reactions of the strangers around me and feeling connected somehow, is an unmitigated joy.

When I was taking sign language classes at Gallaudet University years ago, I had a teacher who challenged us to stop thinking of what we were trying to communicate in terms of the words alone.  He wanted us to consider the concept; and how we could share that concept with someone else without falling back on the easy words.  How do you explain a tree to someone who has never heard the word "tree"?  That's how I feel about theater.  There are some universal human truths that come up a lot in theater: romantic love, family dysfunction, self doubt, the need to belong or to run away; the need to be heard.  But there is a seemingly infinite array of theatrical expressions of those truths.  I love seeing a show I think I don't really understand, only to find a deeply relatable meaning as I let it sink in.

My theater experiences this year have made me gasp in delight, let the tears stream unchecked, want to get up and dance in the aisle, go learn something, be a better person, go hug a friend, understand the journey of getting older, find patience where it was lacking, exist only to listen to beautiful music for an hour, take risks...that list goes on and on.  But some shows did multiple things on that list.  Some did only one, but did it so well, I was stunned into silence at the end.

How then, can I choose a favorite child among this family??  I can't.  But I can sit for a while and let the impressions bubble to the surface like the lottery balls in a spinning cage.  

Here are my fondest memories of 2013 theater, in no particular order:

• The heartbreaking beauty of every aspect of the revival of The Glass Menagerie at the American Repertory Theater (A.R.T.) in Cambridge, MA.
  
• Seeing the brilliant West End revival of Sondheim's Merrily We Roll Along, my favorite of his scores.
• Beth Malone, Alexandra Socha and the phenomenal Sydney Lucas as the three faces, voices and heart of Alison Bechdel in Fun Home.   Each had a song that is visually seared into my memory: Beth, as Adult Alison, singing "Say Something,"  Alexandra as Medium Alison rapturously (and hilariously) singing "I'm Changing My Major to Joan," and Sydney, as Young Alison, staring off into the distance in joyous revelation, in the number "The Keys."
• Fiona Shaw's stark, raw, stunning performance in The Testament of Mary.
• The fizzy, thrilling, hilarious joy of the revival of Pippin.
• The sensory feast that was Here Lies Love at The Public Theater.
• Feeling my heart fill up from the opening notes of Kinky Boots, and explode with hope at the finale.
• Bryan Cranston's channeling of LBJ in A.R.T.'s All The Way.
• The exuberance of Volleygirls, and the soul of Stand By in the New York Musical Theatre Festival.
• The solo show RFK at Studio Theatre DC during Capital Fringe, that helped me understand this important man better.
• Laughing continuously throughout the brilliant The Explorer's Club from the Manhattan Theatre Club.  And not wanting to miss any of Carson Elrod's outrageous antics going on all over the stage.
• The delightfully playful, yet profound, revival of All in the Timing from The Prospect Theatre Company (another Carson Elrod tour de force).
• The lush production and sidesplittingly funny genius of Mark Rylance and the company of Twelfth Night on Broadway.
• John Conlee Johnson, Rebecca Naomi Jones, Will Swenson and Karen Olivo/Caissie Levy in Murder Ballad, giving one of the most seamless ensemble performances I've ever seen.
• Brandon Uranowitz's  deeply satisfying starring performance in Torch Song Trilogy at Studio Theatre in DC.
• Being surrounded by music, dancing and story in the immersive Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812.
• The sheer joy that Ian McKellan and Patrick Stewart clearly felt as they played together on stage.  They were my favorite "couple" on Broadway this season.
• The gigantic, technicolor heart and voice of Norbert Leo Butz, Kate Baldwin, a field of daffodils, a giant, a mermaid, a son and a life, in Big Fish.
• Being in awe of the vulnerability and strength of Estelle Parsons and Stephen Spinella in Arena Stage's The Velocity of Autumn.  I learned so much about growing older, and being someone's child.
• Ray Fisher's riveting performance as Cassius Clay/Muhammed Ali in New York Theatre Workshop's fascinating Fetch Clay, Make Man.
• Discovering an unexpected treasure in the brand new musical comedy, A Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder.  Jefferson Mays is a gift.
• Marveling at the wonder that is Jessie Mueller's performance as Carole King in Beautiful The Carole King Musical.  It's more than the music, it's a fascinating story of the music and this, yes, beautiful, woman whose songs have meant so much to me.
• Sharing the elation of the packed house at 54 Below for the real life production of the fictional musical Hit List from the theater-themed television drama Smash.

So there you have it.  There are more, many more.  I have a distinct memory of each of the shows I saw this year.  I treasure all of them.  Because I love the theater.  Every time those lights go down, I know I'm about to have a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and can't wait to see how it turns out.

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