December 2, 2017


Off to school last night to take in Sophie’s Winter Dionysia. It was gallant, sweet, a lovely idea. There were belly dancers. I think you have to be straight to get much thrill out of that. The centerpiece was a new student translation of Medea performed in HLH. Good translation, bad performance. If the speakers cannot be heard, all is lost, and there’s no reason to continue. Medea himself–yes himself– could be heard well enough. I can see an all-male cast, in the ancient tradition, but the other women were women, as was King Creon. Medea was twice the size of Jason. The Nurse was actually quite good. Quinn told me of the boy playing Medea. He is one of those who insists on being called “they” because neither “he” nor “she” takes in the fullness of his self-identity. The day when I call one person “they” will not come. What a thing to imagine, that you have or should have power over how others perceive you, over how others identify you. But, most of us grow out of our most vivid absurdities.

Received a thank-you note from the Washington Place people for the receipt of my play– two years after I sent it.

Up early, facing a busy day. Night Music auditions this afternoon. I swear I will find something not to be grumpy about.