November 14, 2014

Slept terribly last night, coughing coughs like the reports of rifles. This cold is nothing if not tenacious. I can see my students strain to catch the sound of my diminished voice.

The bar of soap I bought in Vienna is now used up.

Cast as Orisini-Rosenberg in NC Stage’s  Amadeus. Glad about it. It’s one of those parts small enough that the nightly strain will be at minimum, and yet faceted enough to make it worth the effort. It also conflicts with Spring Break, which we be a money-saver for me, not having to trek off to the wide world’s edge.

The more I think about Macbeth, the more I admire D for standing his ground before his awful Lady Macbeth, and not, in the general hearing, complaining about her once.

Some respite beginning today, though I did agree to talk to Louly’s class about Black Mountain. Knowing quite little, or remembering quite little, I must commence condensed research.

Going tonight to hear Sam sing.

Still turning over in my mind the meeting in New York. D suggests that in the name of equality next year’s contests should be open only to women. Silence in the room. I say, “No, that’s not fair; It’s not fair to men.” I have my statistics ready. In the Dramatists Guild Resource Book (last year) there were 26 contests or theaters open ONLY to submissions from women; not one only to submissions from men. I’m saved from opening my mouth by another colleague’s–a woman and an executive in a female theater collective— pointing out the Foundations female/ male and color/white proportions are far higher than the general proportions in New York theater. We didn’t know it then, but our own honoree this year was going to be a woman. It’s not worth your life to suggest that the perceived disadvantage of women in the theater is just that, perceived, anecdotal. My play was not chosen and a man’s was; therefore, there must be bias. Our Foundation received more applications from men than from women, but anybody is free to surf the internet or read the notices on green room walls, and there were exclusively women’s outlets we took care to notify, and I conclude that if fewer women entered than men, fewer women felt like doing so. I know that part of who’s talking is a male playwright, who’s sick of seeing “wymyn only” or “women especially encouraged.” Most contest submissions these days are “blind,” anyway, so unless somebody is cheating, the judges don’t know who made the work. People whose work is not chosen assume bias. People whose work is chosen assume fairness. It would seem to me that, in this case, honoring a bias would be far more laborious than being fair.
My Ebay china arrived yesterday, Noritake Gramatan, in three immense crates.  Only one serving bowl was broken. Amazingly, it all fit into existing spaces.
Maud, getting her neck rubbed, is the picture of contentment.