The DC opera season has started. Washington National Opera began with the lyric gallows swing of Verdi’s Un ballo in maschera, and is now tilting into the eroticism of Strauss’s Salome –an uncanny offering to my mind, reflecting the present zeitgeist, as plattered heads seem the political metaphor of choice these days.
For those people who don’t live in DC, there’s one thing you should be aware of: folks don’t drive well down here. And they’re bad tempered about it too! I make it a habit to purposely wait on the sidewalk, until cars stop for their light –which usually occurs some feet into the cross walk, impeding pedestrian crossing. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen SUV’s, plopped at idle in the crosswalk, driver on their mobile, eyeing the motorized wheelchair moving out of safety to get by them.
Wednesday I was at the National Press Club, here in DC, attending the 43rd Anniversary Luncheon for the Smithsonian Anacostia Community Museum. The invitation came through the Washington National Opera, and I went with my colleague, Stephanie Wright. I’d said ‘definitely’ to the invitation, when asked some time ago, because, as far as I was concerned, it was a free lunch!
..the dog days of summer itch of heat, humidity, and hard work for making the coming autumn professionally viable and prosperous..
There is a project in the works; a table reading of Reconstruction, a play of mine that investigates black history, family memory and social adaptability, in a unique weave of narrative.