Theatrics

Has it really been almost a week since I wrote? How neglectful of me.

I spent most of last week, Monday morning through Friday morning, with my brother and sister in Arlington, Va. Most of the week was me running errands to the post office (again ... and again), visiting with old friends, and passing the time with my brother and sister. But a few things did happen of note.

My brother had two tickets to see "Evita" at The Kennedy Center on Wednesday, Oct. 15, and he invited me to go with him. My sister got two more tickets in the same row for herself and her boyfriend, and the four of us enjoyed a jazz band before we took our seats.

For a family of devoted theater lovers, we don't always get to go very often, especially by ourselves. My parents generously buy tickets for us whenever we happen to all be together and if there is something nearby we all want to see, but for just us younger generation to go is pretty rare. My sister has tried to buy us tickets for things before, but somehow they don't always work out. My brother loves theater just as much as I do, and yet we'd never been to a show together, just the two of us, or even all three of us. Having that experience with them was a real treasure for me.

Then there's The Kennedy Center itself. Though I lived in Washington for nearly two years and have visited dozens of times over the years, I'd never been before. The outdoor fountain and view of Arlington is amazing, especially the night we were there, with clouds dappled all over an understated sky. And of course there is a bronze sculpture of the Center's namesake, along with photo and audio exhibits of the former president's life, assassination and commitment to the arts.

And last, but not least, there's the play itself, which ended up being somewhat controversial among my siblings and I. I'd never seen "Evita" as a play before, only the movie with Madonna in the lead role, made nearly 20 years ago. But I've always been interested in the cult Eva Peron managed to inspire in Argentinians, one that continues in many ways to this day. The balance of the performance was sometimes out of sync, which detracted from my siblings' enjoyment of it (and who can blame them, when you can't understand or hear what's being said) but I think my previous exposure helped avoid that disappointment in myself.

But that's not why it ended up being controversial. On Thursday night, my siblings and I sat up late discussing the play. They both felt that the denouement was disappointing, if it was even there at all. I can't help but agree with them on some level--the end of the play is a bit difficult to digest, with Eva's very sudden demise (which all but the most insightful and observant audience members would not have seen the foreshadowing of), seemingly without explanation (both my siblings walked out of the play asking what it was she'd actually died of), and with the mysterious pronouncement that her memorial was never completed and her body disappeared for 17 years. Both my siblings found that last statement would have made for a more interesting story than the play itself, and while I see their point, I can't quite agree.

Their other main criticism was that, though the play has a somewhat critical narrator in the character of "Che" (who himself caused some controversy among us, with a debate about whether it was meant to be Che Guevara or not--we all researched it and learned that Andrew Lloyd Weber and Tim Rice did not intend for the character to be Guevara, but that one of the producers of the play's first production drew the emphasis), the narrator never really leads the audience to draw an opinion about Eva--about her borderline sex work, whether it is good or bad for a woman to use her sexuality to get ahead, whether the charity work Eva Peron did outweighs the corruption and timely "disappearances" of her critics, whether she is, in fact, a good or a bad person, the hero or villain of her own life's story.

I, on the other hand, take the point of view of many of the critics who reviewed the play when it first opened. I like the play precisely because it doesn't tell me how to think or feel about its title character. Her flaws and perfections, strengths and weaknesses, insecurities and proudest attributes are all laid bare, and the audience is free to like or dislike her as they choose. To me, Che embodies this exact thing--calling a spade a spade, but not exactly condemning it or glorifying it either way. I don't need to be told how to feel or what to think about a person to know how I feel or what I think in my daily life, and I see that freedom carried over in a play such as "Evita."

Other than that problem of balance and enunciation I mentioned earlier that made some moments, especially ensemble numbers, difficult to hear or understand, the performance was very well done, I thought. The choreography, scenery and staging were subtle but effective, and the voices of the main characters were extraordinary. In the difficult role of Eva, Caroline Bowman didn't miss a single note, high or low. She eclipses everyone else on the stage, with occasional competition from Max Quinlan as Che--he too gives a dramatic performance, full of wit and bite and magnificently delivered, but the conviction is sporadic, while Bowman effuses it from every pore.

Michael Grandage directs this touring production, and Rob Ashford choreographs it. One of the most magnificent aspects of this production was the use of newsreels and footage of Eva Peron's funeral, which help set the scene of tragedy and worship far more than mere chorus members can do alone.

Reflections On the Years

Monday morning I made the drive from Silver Spring, Md. to Arlington, Va. to stay with my brother and sister for a few days. GPS and natives' advice recommended staying away from the city of Washington, DC, but that seemed rather annoying. After all, anybody who's ever been on the Beltway knows that it just ... absolutely stinks. And the district is just so pretty in the rain.

I lived in two places when I lived in the district. The first was a townhouse in Capitol Hill that I shared with about nine other people, and the second was a studio apartment on 16th Street near Howard University and Malcolm X Park. At the time it was right on the edge of a seedy part of town, but gentrification has made it a lot, well, brighter if not safer, and that apartment building happens to be a straight shot from Silver Spring. So I took the scenic route to Virginia.

And while I was driving, I meandered even more. I drove on Constitution Avenue past the Smithsonian and the Washington Monument. I braved Dupont Circle. I went past Blair House and the White House, and eventually ended up near the Kennedy Center and the Watergate Building before finally getting onto the 66 to Virginia.

I didn't really like DC when I lived here. I thought it was small and insular, a real company town where everyone went to Duke or U. Maryland and worked in politics, and if you didn't fit into those categories you couldn't meet anybody new.

But there was culture here. There was history and identity, and beauty. And that part hasn't changed.

And I just kept thinking, I am so lucky to have lived here.