I Blame Her: Theatre
Series Intro here
[I've not stopped blaming, I've just been preoccupied by present-day life. I still have the list of things I want to "blame" in my head; I just haven't taken the time to elaborate on them in words]
Many years ago, one of my friends had a sister who was in high school drama club. Aside from the notion that high school itself is not a sort of drama club, this was interesting to observe. My friend had a similar approach to life as I did - very technical and logical, not much artistic creativity - whereas his sister Kristi structured her life around art, drama, and music, providing a very contrasting perspective on life.
Somehow (clouded by bygone history), I was persuaded to go to her first musical, Les Miserables. I greatly enjoyed the book, but was entranced by the musical. At the time, I was just starting to learn how much my life would center on music, which certainly contributed to the show's impact. Another part, I think, was a mixture of understanding "willing suspension of disbelief" and having the "visual learner" part of my brain stimulated by actors on a stage rather than by the mind's eye. Whatever the reason, I greatly enjoyed my evening.
As Kristi finished her secondary studies, I ended up going to almost every play and musical she in which she had a part, about three per year. While some of the present-day pop culture references were lost on me, I always had a great time and enjoyed seeing/hearing stories. All good things must come to an end, though, and I ran out of high school plays to attend. Mines had "Mines Little Theater" and I had friends in MLT, but it just wasn't the same. Partly because it was Mines and we're a bunch of engineers. OK, almost completely because it was Mines and we're a bunch of engineers.
During my first semester at Mines, somehow our dorm finagled our way into free (or nominal cost) tickets to A Christmas Carol produced by the Denver Center for Performing Arts. The show was amazing and again fostered my admiration for well-done theatre, especially classic theatre. (Hey, Intro to Lit was one of my favorite humanities classes ever, Greek tragedy and all.) However, I was stuck with MLT or nothing for the rest of my tenure at Mines. As a side note, I'm still just a little surprised I wasn't struck by lightning for leaving a Good Friday church service early to see some friends in MLT's Best Little Whorehouse in Texas...
My life was MLT or nothing (and mostly nothing) right up until I started hanging out with Mary. Mary was cool; Mary was fun to spend time with. Mary wasn't much into theater or drama. But Mary still lived with her family, so as the boyfriend (and as the good boyfriend), I was asked occasionally to support Mary's sister in her performing pursuits. Turns out that Mary's sister was aiming for a career in the film industry. Once again, I found myself invited to plays and musicals. Wizard of Oz, Wicked (I'm only missing "Dark Side of the Rainbow" to complete the Oz trifecta), and The Importance of Being Earnest were some of the great experiences that I was privileged to share with Mary. Accidentally through our relationship, I rekindled my quiet appreciation for that part of "the arts". Now that I'm not in college any more, I find myself more often possessing the means to enjoy art. I just needed a reminder of how much I enjoyed it.
Part of my enjoyment of theatre arts means sharing with others. As I mentioned, I did share some plays and musicals with Mary, but she's gone now. Instead, I'll have to share with other people. As an example, I offer the story of my meager celebration of my 21st birthday. Over my roommates' protests and threats of kidnapping and drinking, I decided on a much more wholesome activity - one of Kristi's plays. Since a celebration is crippled without company, I took my little sister to the play. I can only vaguely remember what play we saw, but I went home both sober and gratified.
This summer marks my younger sister's 21st birthday. A couple months ago, I asked if she'd like to go to a play again. After some planning, we did find a play to go to (nothing worth seeing runs through the summer). However, we did move up in the world this time. A few weeks ago, we journeyed to the DCPA to see Wicked. Although I had seen it before with Mary's family, it was fun to see it again. There were parts I remembered and parts I didn't. The parts I remembered, I looked forward to seeing and sharing. The parts I didn't, I enjoyed as "new again". Overall, though the cost was non-negligible, it was totally worth it and Hannah had a really good time.
In fact, it was a busy week of "the arts", as the cycle starts again. My youngest two sisters were in a school musical of their own, which I was able to go see. I'm a bit older for this round of high school plays than I was last time, but that's OK -it's also family not friends this time.
So what's the moral of this story? Theater provides variety, the spice of life. Things I value are worth remembering and sharing with others. And I blame Mary for reminding me of experiences that I want to intentionally keep in my life.
[I've not stopped blaming, I've just been preoccupied by present-day life. I still have the list of things I want to "blame" in my head; I just haven't taken the time to elaborate on them in words]
Many years ago, one of my friends had a sister who was in high school drama club. Aside from the notion that high school itself is not a sort of drama club, this was interesting to observe. My friend had a similar approach to life as I did - very technical and logical, not much artistic creativity - whereas his sister Kristi structured her life around art, drama, and music, providing a very contrasting perspective on life.
Somehow (clouded by bygone history), I was persuaded to go to her first musical, Les Miserables. I greatly enjoyed the book, but was entranced by the musical. At the time, I was just starting to learn how much my life would center on music, which certainly contributed to the show's impact. Another part, I think, was a mixture of understanding "willing suspension of disbelief" and having the "visual learner" part of my brain stimulated by actors on a stage rather than by the mind's eye. Whatever the reason, I greatly enjoyed my evening.
As Kristi finished her secondary studies, I ended up going to almost every play and musical she in which she had a part, about three per year. While some of the present-day pop culture references were lost on me, I always had a great time and enjoyed seeing/hearing stories. All good things must come to an end, though, and I ran out of high school plays to attend. Mines had "Mines Little Theater" and I had friends in MLT, but it just wasn't the same. Partly because it was Mines and we're a bunch of engineers. OK, almost completely because it was Mines and we're a bunch of engineers.
During my first semester at Mines, somehow our dorm finagled our way into free (or nominal cost) tickets to A Christmas Carol produced by the Denver Center for Performing Arts. The show was amazing and again fostered my admiration for well-done theatre, especially classic theatre. (Hey, Intro to Lit was one of my favorite humanities classes ever, Greek tragedy and all.) However, I was stuck with MLT or nothing for the rest of my tenure at Mines. As a side note, I'm still just a little surprised I wasn't struck by lightning for leaving a Good Friday church service early to see some friends in MLT's Best Little Whorehouse in Texas...
My life was MLT or nothing (and mostly nothing) right up until I started hanging out with Mary. Mary was cool; Mary was fun to spend time with. Mary wasn't much into theater or drama. But Mary still lived with her family, so as the boyfriend (and as the good boyfriend), I was asked occasionally to support Mary's sister in her performing pursuits. Turns out that Mary's sister was aiming for a career in the film industry. Once again, I found myself invited to plays and musicals. Wizard of Oz, Wicked (I'm only missing "Dark Side of the Rainbow" to complete the Oz trifecta), and The Importance of Being Earnest were some of the great experiences that I was privileged to share with Mary. Accidentally through our relationship, I rekindled my quiet appreciation for that part of "the arts". Now that I'm not in college any more, I find myself more often possessing the means to enjoy art. I just needed a reminder of how much I enjoyed it.
Part of my enjoyment of theatre arts means sharing with others. As I mentioned, I did share some plays and musicals with Mary, but she's gone now. Instead, I'll have to share with other people. As an example, I offer the story of my meager celebration of my 21st birthday. Over my roommates' protests and threats of kidnapping and drinking, I decided on a much more wholesome activity - one of Kristi's plays. Since a celebration is crippled without company, I took my little sister to the play. I can only vaguely remember what play we saw, but I went home both sober and gratified.
This summer marks my younger sister's 21st birthday. A couple months ago, I asked if she'd like to go to a play again. After some planning, we did find a play to go to (nothing worth seeing runs through the summer). However, we did move up in the world this time. A few weeks ago, we journeyed to the DCPA to see Wicked. Although I had seen it before with Mary's family, it was fun to see it again. There were parts I remembered and parts I didn't. The parts I remembered, I looked forward to seeing and sharing. The parts I didn't, I enjoyed as "new again". Overall, though the cost was non-negligible, it was totally worth it and Hannah had a really good time.
In fact, it was a busy week of "the arts", as the cycle starts again. My youngest two sisters were in a school musical of their own, which I was able to go see. I'm a bit older for this round of high school plays than I was last time, but that's OK -it's also family not friends this time.
So what's the moral of this story? Theater provides variety, the spice of life. Things I value are worth remembering and sharing with others. And I blame Mary for reminding me of experiences that I want to intentionally keep in my life.
Labels: I blame
posted by The student of life at 10:34 PM
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