Still Trying to Find My Groove

 Hello again!  I'm slowly maybe inching my way back to normalcy - I saw two pieces of art last week!  An Off-Broadway play and a ballet.  I'm still trying to find my blogging inspiration, but maybe one of the things I saw this week has a thought about that...

I believe I've mentioned how much I enjoy Rajiv Joseph's writing.  A LOT.  I've waxed rhapsodic over his plays Bengal Tiger at the Baghdad Zoo, Guards at the Taj, and Describe the Night, to name a few.  I just really respond to his writing and his storytelling.  In his new work, Letters of Suresh, he again upended me, maybe even more than usual.  Partly because of the story and partly because of where I am in the world right now, I think.  Maybe.

I've seen quite a bit of Rajiv's work over the years - he came through a young writers' program that my workplace used to sponsor.  One of his early plays, Animals Out of Paper, was a lovely dramedy about people who couldn't connect, people who recognized the genius that they wanted to possess was actually in an unlikely place, people who tried to do the right thing but kept failing.  His characters, then and now, are deeply human and recognizable.  Anyway, one of the characters in that play inspired this new piece.  Letters of Suresh features one of those characters, Suresh, who was a teen origami prodigy who had just lost his mother.  A plot point of Animals Out of Paper dealt with Suresh going with his origami mentor to a conference in Nagasaki.  This new play takes that plot point and expands on it.  

At the top of Letters of Suresh, we meet Melody, who is writing a letter.  We learn that she is the great-niece of a priest who has just passed away in Japan.  She has been going through his letters and found a collection of letters from Suresh, whom her great-uncle met in Nagasaki.  So that encounter in Nagasaki not only affected Suresh and his origami mentor's life (from the earlier play), but now we see how Father Hashimoto's life was affected as well.  And how these letters affect Melody, too.

photo credit: Joan Marcus

The play consists of four characters - Suresh, Melody, Father Hashimoto, and a fourth characters introduced late in the play - reading from their letters.  To some people, this may be static, but to me it was quite moving.  Characters make mention of how letter-writing is a lost art, and how you can find yourself in the art of writing, so there is character development, shocking and surprising plot twists, and great feeling in these letters and the performances.  I identified in some way with all four characters, though sort of felt punched in the stomach by one of them during one of their soul-searching letters.  I felt so seen, by someone who doesn't know me all that well and clearly wasn't writing about me, but it was still a bit of a shock.  And I thought maybe this character held a key to why I'm finding it hard to write right now myself.  I don't know.  But even if you aren't finding yourself in one of the characters (and ruminating on why that therapist you're trying to see isn't getting back to you), you'll still love this play, I think.  It digs into needing a connection, lacking a connection, finding the wrong connection, how we're all looking for our place in the universe and how we're all connected to something bigger than ourselves.  Letters of Suresh is a gorgeously moving play, full of gorgeous ideas and words (not to mention a gorgeous projection set and gorgeous acting).  I'm sorry I didn't see it earlier in the run so that I could see it more than once.  And convince more people to go.  I'll be thinking about this one for a long time.

In other news, I finally got back to the ballet after almost two years.  I can hardly believe it's been that long since I've seen live ballet.  I did watch a lot of the streaming ballet out of New York City Ballet and ABT, but it's just not the same.  It's good, don't get me wrong, and I'm so glad it was there.  But being in the room and sharing space with dancers can't be replicated (in my opinion).  Plus, it's even so much more fun to watch ballet with my darling IHBB (Impossibly Handsome Ballet Buddy, for anyone who's new here).  

ABT's fall season is extremely varied, but in my attempt to limit being in crowded spaces, I only got us tickets to Giselle.  It's one of my very favorites (you can remind yourself of past visits HERE and HERE; there are a lot more blog posts about Giselle, but I especially liked those two).  One of the reasons we picked our particular performance was because it featured two of our favorites in parts we hadn't seen them dance before: the sparkling Skylar Brandt as Giselle and the dashing Herman Cornejo as Albrecht.  It was a beautiful performance - Skylar has really stretched and grown since she was promoted to Principal dancer at ABT, her acting has improved exponentially.  She's always had glorious technique, but adding the dramatic skills to her toolkit has only made her that much better.  Interestingly, she opened my eyes to how technique and perfect execution of steps can make the story even more dramatic!  I always thought it was the acting skill alone, but truly, when you can perfectly execute the choreography, perfectly in time with the music, perfectly in sync with your partner, it is exhilarating to watch.  There were sequences and lifts that I have seen countless times before that had new meaning because Skylar and Herman were so thrilling together.  Herman is, of course, the perfect partner and more virile and charming than any person has the right to be.

photo credit: Joao Menegussi

There were a couple of new-to-me dancers that I was also very impressed with, most especially Adrii Ishchuk, who was a really terrific Hilarion - his dance-to-his-death solo was fantastic.  I also thought the corps de ballet/Wilis were amazing; in perfect unison and otherworldly.  I noticed some different character choices, which I enjoyed, and a more diverse ensemble, which I enjoyed even more.  I long for the world to return to normal so that I can get out and lose myself in beauty, especially ballet, again and again, without the fear that crowds still give me.  I have another few shows coming up, so hopefully I will learn to relax, enjoy, and find my creative brain working again.  The groove is out there, I hope.  The connection I need, I hope, is out there.  I just need to find my way there...