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Jan. 3rd, 2009 01:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ezekielsdaughterFor some reason, I am thinking Steven Sondheim this afternoon. I was lucky enough to see “Assassins” this past year. I had to walk from Canal Street into the quarter to Le Petit Theatre in order to see it. There were parades around town; not Mardi Gras, but another one of those times that the city celebrates the fact that it still exists. I am perpetually jealous of those who live in cities where current plays and musicals actually are seen (read: New York). Here, we get “Oklahoma” for the umpteenth time.
Except—We did get “Assassins” this past year. I see why it was never a film. It needs to be performed in a small theatre in an intimate setting. Nothing concentrates the mind—as mentioned by a character in the play—like having guns pointed directly at you. Even if you know they are props. This is still New Orleans, occasionally a regional murder capital. Who knows if a real gun might have been sneaked backstage?
Dark, dark outside with the rain. I am woodshedding as Kalamu might say (www.urbandictionary.com/define.php). Writing here in preparation of really writing.
Except—We did get “Assassins” this past year. I see why it was never a film. It needs to be performed in a small theatre in an intimate setting. Nothing concentrates the mind—as mentioned by a character in the play—like having guns pointed directly at you. Even if you know they are props. This is still New Orleans, occasionally a regional murder capital. Who knows if a real gun might have been sneaked backstage?
Dark, dark outside with the rain. I am woodshedding as Kalamu might say (www.urbandictionary.com/define.php). Writing here in preparation of really writing.
