April 3, 2012

Called Marco about the hanging tomorrow, and he said, “I’m sitting right outside your house.” I told him how to get in, and when I got home I found he had left me a cactus and one of his dramatic orange-y fetish paintings, very large and striking. I hung it in my bedroom where a crucifix had been. Marco will be a godsend today during the hanging. Not only am I mediocre at that at the best of times, but my shoulder makes it difficult for me to lift weight above my head-- though I did hang his painting, and in its glacial way, that’s getting better.

Led the talk-back for Tartuffe at Carol Belk. It was a deserved love-fest, and I was happy to be part of it. Behind some of the comments was “Too bad it had not been like this immemorial times in the past,” though no one came out and said it. Clearly the Tartuffe production was free of the self-dramatization on the part of the stage manager that made Our Town seem a penal sentence. There is no reason why that program cannot sail from this point onward and upward.