My father sent me a card when I was in junior high.. Don’t remember why, or where he was that he was writing home… But the saying on the front of the card struck me; to such an extent that I adopted it, as my yearbook quote, in my senior year of high school:
There are no rules about leaping into the new..
because no one has been there before..
..how odd to find stillness in a hurricane; to find that moment’s peace in which to catch up with oneself.. -listening, past the howling and rattling windows.. Yes; oddness. It is not as if nothing has been happening since my last entry; a great deal has.. But in this great deal were opportunities that I was uncertain would come to fruition, and who wants to nail dreams down on a page, in a viewable journal? Not me.
The first principal rehearsal commences; we are at the top of the opera. Maestro DeMain, Bill Bolcom and the production team sing the role of the Chorus, leading the principals to their entries. But the scene is raising questions. Maestro DeMain stops to clarify points of nuance with the composer, concerned with articulation and dynamics. But Bill is flexible about his markings- “I don’t want anyone to hold my feet to the fire over them –they’re guides.
Arthur Miller’s play, A View From The Bridge, is an exploration of cultural crosscurrents in an adapting immigrant community in 50’s America. It is also an unflinching view of a marriage, strained with too much unspoken, festering with human wants that ultimately erupt in a public tragedy of classic proportions. As theatre, the work is a raw coil to an inexorable end.
In life, as in theatre, you should always be ready to make room for the unexpected. …leaving my first rehearsal: Cindy Oxbury, the Assistant Director, asked if I’d like to find some time with Bill Bolcom? I said “yes”, assuming this meant for the following day when the composer would be in town. –Ah, no; I’m working with a collection of ‘get-it-done’ professionals!