images taken from google images duhWhen you take your seat at the Hale Center Theater in Orem, odds are you're going to feel pretty proud of yourself for having scored the best seat in the house. This is just part of the magic of seeing a show in such an intimate setting. The real magic, to me, however, is how anyone manages to put together such a high-quality production on a set which is smaller than my bedroom.
On Friday I was fortunate enough to see one of the limited engagement showings of 110 In The Shade, limited due to its starring Local Boy Gone BigTime Will Swenson, and 4-time Tony Award Winner Audra McDonald. They agreed to participate as part of a fund-raiser for the Hale Theater, and manohman, did we ever luck out. Broadway Gold, right in our own yard. I could barely believe my eyes and ears.
At show's opening: complete blackout, and as the lights on the stage slowly illuminated, I saw the wooden platform of a stage, heard the harmonica, and I was there. Immediately, transported to 1930's wherever-in-Texas-probably, feeling the heat and wishing for rain. By the end of the first act, I found myself leaning forward, at the edge of my seat, only Audra & me in the room, and when she was finished singing I found I had been not just crying, but weeping.
That's what that's about.
The entire show, it goes without saying, was incredible. I loved seeing my friends Hailey and Korianne on stage, as well as the Clarks, the Merritts, and the Valentines in the audience.
Walking outside to the parking lot, I was hit with the strong scent of rain accompanied by a fantastic lightning show. Made me think . . .
. . . maybe it's about time I got back on stage.
9 comments:
I'll come...
what lisa said.
I so hear you. Whenever I watch a play, I get bit by the acting bug again. I miss it and really can't wait until I am in the season of my life where I can do it again.
It sounds like a fabulous night you had. Really amazing.
And, I'm with Lisa, I'll come watch you. :)
I would come and watch.
I really wanted to see this production and I'm really sad I missed it. Especially after reading your review of it. Wow.
110 in the Shade was the last play I was in at BYU. Gosh, it has been a LONG time.
Yes! I would love that.
OH MY GOSH. I just commented as you. For some reason my Firefox hadn't yet logged out of your profile and I didn't realize that I wasn't in Safari and I left a comment as you. I'm deleting it now and making darn sure that I'm logged all the way out.
Dude, I'm so sorry.
That was really hilarious.
I was like, "hey, excellent point...uh, me??"
Made you realize that you're awfully hilarious and simultaneously correct, yes?
That particular snafu has happened more than once. I've left a comment on my mom's blog as her. On a couple clients' blogs. On my sisters'. You'd think that I'd remember I'm logged in and log out. But no. No, of course not. As soon as I see the comment appear without my picture next to it I freak out. OhmygoshOhmygoshOhmygosh. Must delete! Must delete! And I deliberate what's got to come first, my follow-up comment to apologize frantically or to delete the errant comment. Say sorry or fix first? Ahhh! Now my client is going to thing that I did not, in fact, respect their username/password as I solemnly promised I would. They will think I'm careless. They will regret me. I will never be able to convey just how sorry I am and that I did--yes, yes, I did--respect their information.
And when I do leave the comment under your login info, you, the blogger, hear a ding from your phone, see that you got a new email, check the email and see that it's from, well, you, and if you're already of an unsteady mental state you wonder if you're losing it altogether, as, apparently, you're unable to remember when you leave a comment on your own friggin' blog. Or, if you're the paranoid type like me, you start freaking out about the beginnings of a stolen identity and rush to your bank account to make sure all the funds are still there.
Anyhow, I'm sorry.
Thanks for your encouragement, everyone. I'm nervous/excited at the thought of auditioning for a show at this point in my life. Maybe I'll take some voice lessons to get ready.
Sparks, you're funny.
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