DeRAnged Part 2: The Crucible – Second Time ‘Round

/ September 5, 2014

[Events have overtaken me. Is there any point in in-depth re-analysis when the play will be released via download later??? Alrighty, this is just for me, then…]

Have you ever watched a theatre production – the same play, with the same ensemble, in the same performance space – twice? No, no one does that. We may go to the cinema to watch a film more than once – something I used to do frequently as a teenager (“Cocktail” five times – yeah, I know…) but with steep ticket prices in mind, a theatre play is not something that you would consider watching twice. And what a pity that is because a play is never the same. It changes with every performance, with a new set of audience members, with a different seat, with a different mood that you as the audience may have.

Thanks to a front row seat, stage right (C18), the experience of the play was immediate, and raw, and not just because Mr A was a meter away from me, so close, in fact, that I could count the individual hairs on his chest which I did my best to ignore but sadly failed, once or twice. The “theatre in the round” looks much rounder when you are seated in the front row. The front row essentially *is* the boundary of the crucible, but as such the audience seated there becomes part of the play.  From passive watchers the front row attendees are transformed into members of the Salem community. While still unable to react openly, the village dwellers viewers are silent witnesses and as such implicated in the tragedy. This is occasionally brought to light, literally, when the stage illumination spills onto the front row seats and the viewers/witnesses are put on the spot – especially during the court scenes, but also to some degree in Act 1 in Betty Parriss’s room. I do not think this was coincidence in the light design as the more intimate scene in the Proctor house initially leaves the audience in the dark, excluding them from the action and making them passive onlookers, but then gradually draws them in as the scene changes from the dark intimate exchange of the Proctors to the unexpected call of Rev Hale, the visit by Corey and Nurse and finally the entry of Cheever and the marshal, at which point the stage is lit almost back to full brightness and the audience has once again become complicit in the proliferating hysteria of the witch hunt. The whole design is so subtle and yet so effective. You gradually recognise the shape of people across the stage, and you feel a sense of distrust and disgust at the passivity with which they/we allow the tragedy to progress.

Furthermore, audience involvement becomes almost active as the action occasionally happens right at your feet. Proctor chasing Abby through the room is frightening, the speed and sound of the running are shockingly fast and loud, as is the movement of the girls across the stage in the court scene until they finally settle in the stage right corner, huddled up. There were several occasions where I had to quickly react and move my feet out of the way. As incidental as it sounds – the audience’s physical moving out of the way is an active involvement. Once again our participation in the proceedings is made clear: We are there, we are witnesses because the action is happening so close that we have to physically react and move. But that is also exactly the point: We move out of the way, remove ourselves from the action and choose to remain passive (ok, that is a reaction that is prescribed by the conventions of theatre-going, but it fits the theme of the play perfectly and is an incidental way of involving the audience in the action of the play.) If the community had not sat back in passive fear, the tragedy could have been stopped. And yet we sit and do nothing. We tuck in our feet and keep our heads low. Infuriating cowardice!

The proximity to the action and the occasional awareness of being visible to the rest of the audience due to the lighting and own movement of feet was unsettling, and rightly so. The play’s theme *is* unsettling. Sitting in the front row did not unsettle me in terms of vanity or shyness (I may suffer from the former but less from the latter.) But the actors had my full attention, much more so than the first time ’round when I watched from the second row where I was occasionally busy craning my neck around the people in front of me and missed bits and pieces. I completely forgot that Mr Armitage was there. My attention was taken by whoever was acting in any given moment. The fast propelling action entranced me so much that I felt tense, under strain, unable to take my eyes away from the action. At the end of Act 2 I was hunched in on myself and was shaking as I got up during the interval, my muscles in spasm. I also cried several times during Act 2 (silently sniffling into my hanky, trying to be unobtrusive there…)

Was it because I was able to observe the nuances of the acting closer from my front row seat, but RA’s performance seemed better than the first one I saw, and seeing the play from the side gave me a completely new perspective. The infamous shirtless scene appealed to me much more from my vantage point from the side: With most of the sexual markers (biceps, beard, chest, abdomen) out of view, I saw the exhausted human being coming home from work and cleaning himself from the toils. The white expanse of the back stood out against the dark floor, and the round lines of back and sides had less sexual but more aesthetic appeal. Essentially I could now concentrate on the meaning of this direction: The fragility of Proctor is alluded to for the first time. After his bullish, enraged and energetic stomping around in Act 2, he is suddenly a frail individual, bowed down by physical toil and mental turmoil. He is catching his breath, half-naked and static, an admission of vulnerability that is in stark contrast to his strong physicality while clothed and moving. I can now understand why this scene was included  – and in this way. I do not believe for one minute that Yael Farber needs any gratuitous Armitage totty moment to sustain interest in her production of the play. But she gives us half-naked *Proctor* (!) to show his vulnerability. She actually avoids the drool-reaction by having Elizabeth Proctor place the bowl and pitcher on the floor. Logically and realistically the washing bowl should be on the table, with Proctor standing up, in plain view. Instead he hunches at the front of the stage, bowing over the bowl, concealing his torso during his ablutions, and really only showing his head, neck and back. Armitage emphasised it by remaining bowed over the bowl. An insight that I was only able to gain because I saw the play a second time, and from a different perspective. In this scene Armitage actually proved that what he once said is true: You can act with your back. (Ok, I think he was referring to smouldering with your back, but well, as we know that is an act, too.) There were no words (only muffled gasps) and sparse movement, but the stillness and pose of the body, as well as the visible tension in the muscles spoke of the pressure that Proctor felt under. Physical theatre is indeed Armitage’s domain – and maybe more so than acting with the spoken word. His body acting was flawless – believable, measured exactly to the intensity of feeling that was conveyed in the words, controlled and evocative.

The homely (!) scene between the Proctors remained my favourite part, especially the softness with which Proctor was trying to show his love and regret to his wife. He spoke so softly, tentatively, with so much hope and fear in his voice. And conscious of the stiffness of his wife nonetheless attempting to kiss her. The body control of both actors in this quiet scene was remarkable – a hunched shoulder by Madeley could have completely misinterpreted Elizabeth Proctor as resigned rather than heart-broken. And a more forceful attempt at reaching out to his wife might have made Proctor appear rash rather than carefully hopeful. But they interpreted the scene perfectly. More Armitage back-acting came at the end of Act 1 after Elizabeth has been taken away and Proctor collapses at the table. Despair and guilt spoke from the hunched pose, hiding his face, sobbing. I only realized then that Proctor had just understood that ultimately he was responsible for his wife’s prosecution, and that he was so forcefully reassuring her that he would “fall like an ocean on that court” not just out of love but also for guilt. (What a beautiful turn of phrase, btw.)

My initial verdicts of the play remained unchanged. The sound scape still does nothing for me and continues to irritate me: I still don’t see why an atmospheric set, an outstanding cast and the flawless direction need a score to emphasize the intended reactions and message. This is not a reaction to the music itself, btw. Hammarton’s music is hauntingly evocative. It is simply superfluous imho. The ensemble is exceptionally capable and complements each other wonderfully. Schiller, Gavin and Madeley were outstanding. Again I was taken with the light design (see above *ggg*), but a bit less so with some of the choreography. The much remarked upon courtroom scene where the girls turn on Mary Warren just appeared totally OTT to me. I found the choreographed movements of the girls over-coordinated. They move in sync, shaking their hair, twisting and writhing. Within the context of the scene they are pretending that Mary has sent her spirit to haunt and torture them. So far so good, however, for a spontaneous reaction to Mary’s “betrayal”, they act too coordinated. How could they have copped on so quickly to contort themselves in unison as a way of bullying Mary and beating her into submission? A bit less might have been more.

To my surprise my second viewing of TC ended without standing ovations! Sitting on my own I had chatted with the couple on my left as well as the single, middle-aged+ woman on my right, and all of us had agreed in the interval that the acting was marvellous and the staging exceptional. Was the Wednesday night crowd eager to get out and on the tube? The performance merited standing ovations. However, we were graced with another small performance. As Armitage had turned to leave the stage, a young woman in the front row suddenly dashed after Armitage right across the stage. No match for the security guys, though. She was caught before she could reach Armitage. (I wonder whether he noticed it at all.) Amusingly, a noticeable collective snigger went through the theatre. The woman on my right and I smirked at each other. When I said “Well, didn’t we all feel like doing that?” she giggled and nodded.

The first review is here.

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48 thoughts on “DeRAnged Part 2: The Crucible – Second Time ‘Round”

  2. She was caught before she could reach Armitage! Poor girl, what a pity 🙂
    Would have been interesting, what she would intend to do……Kiss him, hug him, fall to her knees before him or simply say “Thank you?”. Was für ein Theater 😀

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  4. Yes! Keep those reviews and impressions coming. Even though I am eventually going to be able to see the play myself in another format than at the theatre, the blogs from yourself and others have really opened my eyes to so many things I wouldn’t have noticed/thought of/pondered myself. With each one I read there is always something new and insightful. Thanks for doing it, by the way.

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    • You are more than welcome, Heather. I just commented to Richardiana that I feel guilty about putting so many spoilers in here, by describing the play in depth. Hope I am not taking away from your own eventual enjoyment. For me, of course, it is the icing on the cake to receive feedback from readers, no matter whether they have seen the play or not. So thank you for commenting! x

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  5. Thanks for this, Guylty. Lots of things I didn’t notice, especially about the lighting bringing in or excluding the audience. Now I wish I could see it live one more time! 😉

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  6. It’s really a bit strange for me to realise I have been in the same place as you at the very same time. I wouldn’t have expected this.
    I agree I was surprised too that there were no standing ovations at that evening. To me it was an outstanding experience. But I saw the perfomance on Thursday for a 2nd time – and really this one touched me even more and I recognised a few subtle changes that added to the overall brilliant experience. And this 2nd one – well deserved – was gratified with standing ovations.
    I would have loved to say ‘hi’ to you. Sad to have missed this opportunity…
    And thanks a lot for your reviews. It’s so interesting to hear how other people, who attended the play out of the very same reasons as I did, received this performance.

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    • Coddammit! You were there on Tuesday night????? A pity indeed. (You were not the hopeful fan who made the dash, were you 😉 ?) And I have to agree with you – the second time of seeing the play was better than the first time. I think it has to do with getting over the superficial excitement of realizing that it is RA, acting LIVE, right in front. I was much less taken up with him the second time I watched the play. And even lesser the third time.
      With all these missed opportunities I think I will rip off the shroud of secrecy in the future and announce my whereabouts. And I will so definitely make that secret RArmy identifier. We really, really need that!

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  7. first you call your husband unattractive and now the Proctors? you’re so mean. (LOL!) I enjoyed your retelling here, it makes me look even more forward to seeing it myself on video 🙂

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  8. Something’s odd about how this page is loading, I’m having trouble reading all the comments.

    It was the first time I saw it so obviously I was looking differently than you were — but I’m really glad you had the “front row” experience. I only saw it from a place other than the front row once (the last time) and you’re right, it was completely different, almost a different play (although not entirely in a bad way). For one thing, I relaxed enough that I actually yawned at one point (there are one or two scenes in this place that IMO are totally superfluous, but we know the rights-holder does not allow significant cuts), which never would have happened in the front row. Totally agree w/you re: lighting design (e.g., the fully effective way the lights rise in Act Four as the dawn approaches, and in particular the way that the ash is lit in the change to Act Four which was crazily early modern and evocative, and also the lighting over the opening and Tituba). Mixed feelings on the sound — IMO that sound at the beginning of the play really contributes to the atmosphere. You don’t notice it but it gets under your skin!

    Agree re: physical vs verbal in Armitage’s work. I’d never seen it so clearly as here, maybe because he doesn’t get multiple takes, it has to be on the first time and then it’s over.

    And yes: the courtroom scene is cluttered. The axes of motion between the actors are so complex that you never know where to look (in additiong to the twitching). I actually got in an argument over the meaning of this scene with LondonFriend; she thought the choreography was misleading me as to the valences of power in the courtroom.

    Looking forward to more discussions. We were both so strung out (in a good way) at the end of this evening that I’m sort of amazed we made it back to the hotel.

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    • (have deleted the Getty image to stop it screwing up the page)
      I had to laugh about your yawning comment – I had exactly the same reaction. I was alert to the point of hypersensitivity when I was in the front row. The week after, when seeing the play a third time, I sat in second row again and found myself yawning, too. Ooops.
      Good point about the prison scene re. light. That was one of the things I noticed that time, too, as well as the way they showed we were looking into a prison by painting with light – i.e. the light was filtered through grids and made a pattern on the floor that looked like the bars of a prison window. I know I am totally zooming in on something that is specific to my POV as a photographer, but it is those little things that we do not consciously register and which really make up the bigger picture.
      I am interested to hear more about the valences of power and how the girls manic twitching obscured that?
      Yeah, funny how we didn’t really discuss it to death that night – or even the next day. I think we were both still processing? The one thing I took from seeing it that night was that I regretted that I couldn’t rewind the action or take notes. I know that there were several things in the play where I thought – oh, must remember this and mention it in my review. And duly forgot *ggg*.

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  9. Grmpf. Die Kommentare sind wieder über die ganze Breite gezogen – Getty sei Dank?!

    Danke für den erneuten Einblick. Für mich sind die Eindrücke, die du schilderst, hochinteressant: So sehr mich die Aufnahme freut (JAAAAAA!!! 🙂 !!!) – die Live-Atmosphäre werden wir damit natürlich nicht kriegen.

    Zur Musik: Menschen sind unterschiedlich, auch was ihre Reaktion auf verschiedene Sinnesreize angeht. Ich bin ziemlich sicher, dass es Leute gibt, die die Musik wortwörtlich *brauchen*, um die Stimmung richtig fühlen zu können.

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    • Getty rausgeschmissen. Seitdem die da an ihrem Embed-Code gebastelt haben, funktioniert das nicht mehr richtig. Hmph.
      Freut mich, dass meine subjektiven Eindrücke von Interesse sind. Ich finde ja immer, dass ein Theater/Kinoerlebnis nur dann wirksam ist, wenn man nicht nur selber davon etwas gelernt hat, sondern in Auseinandersetzung mit anderen Eindrücken Neues lernt. Live oder nicht – wenn erst die Aufzeichnung für alle zur Verfügung steht, dann geht’s noch mal richtig in die Vollen.
      Good point about the music. Vielleicht bin ich einfach nur hypersensibel *ggg*. Und in unserer Multimediawelt muss man als Theaterregisseur wahrscheinlich alles einsetzen, was die Technik zu bieten hat…

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  10. Loved reading this! Thank you for writing and sharing it. 🙂

    And for the record: yes! I *have* seen multiple performances of the same play! When I worked for the Southwest Shakespeare Company, I had the opportunity to watch many of the plays each night. Usually from the wings, but a couple of them in the audience. (Saw six performances of *Macbeth* from the back row. Loved it more every night.) And when my high school did *The Crucible* and I was the costume director, I watched that twice from the auditorium: once in dress rehearsals to see how the costumes read, and once on closing night (when they included my name and the director’s in the list of villagers accused of being seen with the devil. Hee.) You are right. The same show is different on different nights. It’s fascinating to see how the actors feed off of each other, or off the audience, or how they manage to find new ways to make a line feel authentic, or the evolution throughout a run of the various ways the actors try to mess with each other, or how a single mistake can destroy an entire scene — or make it.

    Basically, we should watch plays we enjoy as many times as we can more often. It’s a highly rewarding experience. 🙂

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    • I am fully with you, Alyssa, and thanks for your POV from the other side! That’s really interesting. Having seen the play three times in total, I was astounded how different it was each and every time. Not just because of the different seats I was sitting in but also in terms of little details that seemed to change on stage. We are nowadays so used to only seeing plays/shows/films on the screen – where the performance remains identical. It is so much different to see it live. Truly unique.
      I’ll write about that when I get to my third review of the play, eventually.
      And yes, I think if a play catches my imagination again as forcefully as this one has, I will consider watching it again.

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      • It’s especially interesting, in my experience, to compare opening and closing night performances. There’s not just the issue of evolution, there, but also of mood. Depending on the nature of the show in question, there can be an overall mood of relief or sadness or triumph or outright levity on closing night that affects the entire show. Compare that with an opening night that was marked by jitters, adrenaline, bravado, terror, unreadiness, or any of the many moods that can propel a first performance, and you see something really worth mulling over.

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        • That must be really interesting! And add another show in between, for the “experienced” feel. Honestly, theatres should think about selling ticket packages at special prices. Buy three for two. Or a 10 percent discount if you buy more than one ticket. I’d so go for that!!

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  11. Wow, ich bin ja so froh, dass hier mittlerweile so viel Deutsch geschrieben wird, habe schon genug Probleme, meine Gedanken irgendwie in Worte zu fassen…
    Vielen vielen Dank für deinen Bericht, Offenbarung, Seelenschau oder wie auch immer man das nennen mag. Ich war so sauer, dass ich wegen meines gebrochenen Fusses und Beines nicht dabei sein konnte und kam mir wie ein Stalker vor, weil ich jeden Schnipsel förmlich aufgesogen habe und noch eine fellow Freundin genötigt habe, on my behalf an der stage door etwas abzugeben. Wer weiss, wie ich das Ganze persönlich durchgestanden hätte…
    Wie schön, dass Du und Servetus euch finally getroffen habt, schon strange, wie das Fandom so wirkt, und nicht mehr nur Mr. A im Mittelpunkt steht, obwohl ich schon gerne every hair on his chest gezählt hätte 🙂

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    • Ich kann das so gut nachvollziehen, Ute, dass es für dich wirklich eine herbe Enttäuschung gewesen sein muss, nicht nach London fahren zu können. Als mich das Leben Ende Juni einholte und ich die Previews und die Premiere des Stückes nicht mit voller Aufmerksamkeit verfolgen konnte, war ich bereits genervt. Und gleichzeitig erleichtert, weil ich sofort kalkuliert habe, dass ich immerhin mit meinen gebuchten Tickets für Anfang August immer noch hinfahren konnte, trotz der langen Zeit, die ich zu Hause bleiben musste.
      Ich finde es schön, dass der Diskurs der Fangemeinde über das Stück für dich also einen kleinen Ersatz geboten hat. Und mit der nun angekündigten Aufzeichnung des Stücks kommst du ja dann immerhin noch in den Genuss, das Ganze doch noch zu sehen, wenn auch nicht live.
      Und ja – das Treffen war toll. Und Mr A rückt immer mehr an den Rand des Geschehens, der arme… Er wird’s verschmerzen können…

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  12. It sounds like a brilliant production design–using the audience to enhance the play’s action. I’ve seen this before, but it’s always thrilling when done well.
    When I first became a fan, it did not occur to me to see more than one performance of a show. When I learned that people were going 3, 4, 5 times, I thought they were (to put it politely) a bit over the top. But then I saw a certain play twice, and I discovered that it adds immensely to the experience. Not just getting to see your Man again, but the fascination of theatre, the way details change, how being seated in a different spot can transform the story. As you noted, the reactions of the audience are different too. I saw a show that had comic aspects to it, but the places where the audience laughed were completely different on the two nights. What this gives you is an insight into what it’s like for the actors. They are not going through the motions, doing the same thing robotically every night. They have to summon the energy, and part of that can be changing what they do, refining it, experimenting. In other words, I’m an enthusiastic convert to multiple viewings!

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    • I can subscribe to everything you wrote, Linnet. When I heard that fellow fans had bought multiple tickets, I (foolishly and wrongly) pronounced them mad and fanatical in my head. I had resolved to only watch it once. But due to fan meet opportunities I eventually saw the play twice more – and now am a convert, too. It’s never the same, it has different nuances every time you see it, sometimes stronger than other times. If tickets were less expensive, I’d love to do it with each and every play I go to.
      Oh, and I am a total sucker for audience involvement. I don’t particularly like being passive (in almost any situation), and being reduced to a gawping onlooker usually leaves me unsatisfied. I love it when I notice the actors looking into the audience, or when the audience is actually involved through active participation. (I saw a performance of “The Taming of the Shrew” at the Bremer Shakespeare Company with my father once. When we entered the theatre, the actors acted as ushers and separated the women from the men in the audience and made us sit in the two halves of the auditorium. Then they whipped up a gender conflict feel and made us root for our own gender on stage. Brilliant. I have never felt so alive in a theatre…)

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      • Wow–and TOTS could definitely inspire a gender war right in the theatre! What a clever idea. I am the shy type and would not want to be the one selected to go up on stage in those Broadway musicals that use audience participation. BUT there is nothing like sitting in the front row of a play where you have to pull in your feet as the actors go by 🙂

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  13. Pingback: DeRAnged Part 3: “De-RA’ed but Be-Muse’d” – A Reaction to Seeing RA Act | GUYLTY PLEASURE

  14. Thank you for your detailed impressions of The Crucible on your second visit. I can’t seem to read enough about the experience. I’m sure the download will be a completely different experience than seeing it on stage. Not that I’m complaining, I’m just happy we’ll have the opportunity 😉

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    • You know what? Once the download is available we should organise a Crucible Watch. And then those who saw it in the theatre can butt in with comments a la “oooh, this is the scene where his left nipple peeked through a hole in his shirt” 😀 Well, or maybe some slightly more worthy comments… Just saying. And I look forward to downloading the play for posterity, too.

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  15. Pingback: deRAnged Part 7: Stage Door Survived | GUYLTY PLEASURE

  16. I find it very interesting what you say about the music, for me it’s the exact opposite i liked or felt more comfortable with the musical introduction into the mood, most likely because i am unable to interpret the light as well as you do 🙂 Trained eye and all and music is my more familiar medium of transmission 😉 But i do agree that in some instances the music exacerbates tension that was already there.

    As to seeing something more times i’ve never really done that with films ( ehem.. before that is ;-)) because it felt as it was identical, which it is, but live performances is fascinating to see several times. Again i guess i’m used to it because of music, where you get to see the same thing quite a few times, sometimes with the same singers, sometimes with different ones. But with things as extraordinary as this i think we feel how unique each instance is and want to absorb as many of these unique moments as we can.
    But ok, let’s face it 😀 It’s such an incredible pleasure to watch him act and also watch the others in this case, it’s great to be able to see it more than once as ultimately it is a one off opportunity.

    (and don’t make me choose between the back and the front view ;-))

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    • Not sure I see a connection between light and music there, Hariclea. I don’t think the music had any influence on the light. It was there to create an atmosphere and to intensify the empathy of the audience, and I just thought it was too much. But I am complaining at a very high level here. It wasn’t as if the music ruined it for me. I just thought it was unnecessary. And I suppose I focussed on it in my review because so much had been made of it in other reviews – too much, in my opinion.
      Very interesting that you find the thing with seeing a live performance more than once more “normal” than repeating a recorded performance. I suppose you are right – I have seen Hamlet on stage before, will see it again next Friday and then with Cumberbatch next year. But I had never done that with the same production… I don’t think I *will* do it again, mainly because it is a financial issue, but also because this time ’round there was the added benefit of seeing Mr A multiple times.

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      • (sorry if this will be a bit long) Oh i don’t think the music was that important, i think it’s main function was to provide transition and introduction which was ok, it helped set the atmosphere when there was silence and seamless transition between acts and that was it, i don’t think it was meant to do more. The lighting did much more as it is part of the whole production not just momentary and it was striking. I wish i had been able to step outside myself and get more about how it was produced and such, but i admit i was mostly focused on the actors and probably noticed mostly shift, sudden spotlights, etc and less of the much more subtle elements. It will be interesting to have the video and be able to look at some things in more detail. I enjoyed the more unusual choreography element in the moment, but that’s just because i am a bit of a ballet /dance nutter 😉
        Which neatly takes me into the multiple offender chat 😉 Just to quickly say i grew up going to concerts every week and opera also weekly, sometimes more than weekly (because it was so so cheap). It is part of my i love living in London, but it’s a constant dance on a wire and constant choices. I rarely spend more than the price of a cinema ticket on things (may sound improbable, but it is possible with careful advance planning and booking).(2nd aside – which is why i hadn’t really known RA before much because i’ve literally not been going to the cinema the last few years, choosing to do live things instead and waiting for films to be available on TV/online).
        I’d have normally spent the summer going to the Proms or some festival, all i did this year was the Crucible 🙂 I didn’t intend to and i only had a cheap C tick to begin with but once i’d seen it….. priorities changed 😉 I am a bit sad i’ve never seen it from front row but i had to make a choice, get one of those tickets and go only once or get the 21 priced once and go several times. I just couldn’t not go, being so close and all 🙂 It wasn’t a hard choice, let’s be honest 😉 All i am saying is it did change a lifetime pattern. And it actually changed it for good as i’ve been taking steps to re-budget so to speak and cut down on the music and do more theatre instead. Which may sound like silly stuff for most people, but it really is a massive shift of interest in my case. Sorry for the long response..

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        • (No problem with long replies!)
          I was saying to my husband this morning – the added benefit of this summer of love has had for me is the renewed interest in live theatre. I have the luxury of living in a city that has a very rich theatre history and an outstanding literary culture at that. That and the fact that it is English-speaking means that even a provincial place like this attracts big names from the English-language stage (and film) into our theatres; something that I haven’t made the most of but that has been thrown into sharp relief for me thanks to the experience of seeing the Crucible. I am quite set on the idea of going to the theatre once a month from now on, and the start has been made. (September and November covered, currently looking at my October schedule.)
          What I deeply regret about Ireland is that there do not seem to be any theatre subscription as they are common in every little provincial theatre in Germany. You buy the whole season and get to see all that graces the stage that year. It all comes down to my inherent laziness, of course, because I could pre-plan and -book my tickets on my own terms. But I find it much easier to have a subscription that I buy at the beginning of the year and then whip out of my wallet whenever the time has come. For the first 13 years of living in Ireland I had a subscription to the National Concert Hall and I loved it. (Unfortunately they eventually fucked up my subscription, gave away my coveted seat and made no attempt at repairing the damage. I miss my bi-weekly classical concerts very much. Maybe I should try again…)
          In any case, seeing art created in front of my eyes, “for me”, is just incomparably better than watching it on the box. It touches me – literally and figuratively – makes me shiver with emotion. Maybe because of the tangible presence of creativity – even though I have to pay for the privilege. But a privilege it is nonetheless.
          (Ha, resolution formed – I will spend the money I received today for a job I did the other day on a subscription to the Concert Hall. I need more art in my life.)

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