I've always been rather sensitive to strong smells, but in the past few years, it's gotten more intense. Heavy perfumes, especially, give me a headache and make me sick to my stomach. Once, when I was at Carnegie Hall, I had to ask the house manager to move me, because the gal sitting next to me had taken a bath in Obsession or Compulsion or something. I knew I wouldn't be able to enjoy the concert with all that strong scent lingering in my nose and in my throat.
New York in the summer is a particularly odorific time of year. However, yesterday was terrifically smelly and the biggest offenders took place indoors. First, I don't know what goes on in the ladies' restroom in my office building, but there are people who think that spraying fourteen gross tons of perfume is preferable to other bathroom odors. Yesterday was the worst it's ever been. I was choking and I had a taste in my mouth of that horrible perfume. It lasted for HOURS. I've tried putting signs up (this sign is from 2009 and gets reused periodically), but nothing seems to work. It was so bad yesterday that the building cleaning staff had to prop the bathroom door open to air it out. Blech. 
After work, I went downtown to the Vineyard Theatre. I love the Vineyard. I love the work they do, the theater space is great, but, oh my. I think something has died in that building and they can't get it out. The horrible odor in the lobby and the ladies' restroom is almost more than I can bear. Thankfully, it doesn't seep into the theater itself. My seat neighbors, on the other hand, perhaps jogged all the way from New Jersey before arriving in their seats, so they were a tad more odorific than they might have ordinarily been. It was a theme, I guess. Before I talk about the glorious event that took place at the Vineyard, I'll just mention that the R subway line could use a thorough summer cleaning. With bleach. That's all I'll say about that.
Whew. Let's move on and talk about wonderfulness. Last night, I went to a benefit reading of Craig Lucas' The Dying Gaul, starring the original cast. I believe I've mentioned, many many times, how much I love Craig Lucas and his work. I've never seen The Dying Gaul on stage, though I have seen the film. Even done as a staged reading, this play packs a powerful punch. And the cast was just as amazing as I'm sure they were fifteen years ago. 
The Dying Gaul is about a writer, Robert, who gets thrown into situations and relationships he never imagined after he sells a screenplay. There's satire about Hollywood and the film business, and the play is hysterically funny throughout, but it turns dark and scary when the online chat room component takes over. There's such beauty and truth in all of Craig's dialogue, as always, but there's also a terror and a rage that happens - you almost have to cover your eyes and ears. How this man unravels and devolves into who he becomes by the end is just amazing. You never see it coming. At least I didn't. The photo at right is of the statue The Dying Gaul (got it off the internet, of course). The metaphor is beautiful and sad, at the same time.
I've had a girl crush on Linda Emond forever and she was again amazing. She's so composed and elegant, but you could see the crushing anguish underneath. The moment she finds out something she wasn't supposed to know is breathtaking. Cotter Smith, as the film producer, is all silky charm and conflicted desire; Robert Emmet Lumney as the therapist is (purposefully) ineffectual and well-meaning; and Tim Hopper was sensational as Robert. Seriously, he found (again) so many layers - awkward need, rage, regret, loneliness, intelligence. Just fantastic stuff.
I think this play is frigging brilliant. It says so much - about hope and fear, love and hate, understanding and forgiveness. And anger. Lots and lots of anger. Maybe that's what I responded to. I frequently have unexpressed anger. Not that it manifests itself in terrifying ways like the ones in this play, but still. I have an acknowledgement and understanding that leads me into the play very deeply. I don't know. Maybe I just love Craig Lucas and his work too much. But seriously, any play that has the line "You can do anything you want. As long as you don't call it what it is. You understand?" automatically gets my attention...
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