July 10, 2021

Interesting sound of the garden gate swinging open in the dead of night–

Theater last night at the Magnetic, a sparse house for the world premiere of a play called Kore. I monitored my reactions to the play as much as the play, I suppose because of a recent Face Book discussion on criticism and its uses. Also, back in the theater game after the Plague, I’m always measuring– whether I intend to or not–my work against other new works. The first thing was that Kore– “the girl,” Demeter’s daughter-- was called CORE (rhymes with “bore”) throughout the play, about four hundred uses of the word, and each time digging into my nerves. Was it deliberate? Was it simply ignorant? Does that level of ignorance not call the whole enterprise into question?  I was going to blame the production until a rhyming section showed that the playwright herself had made the choice. The unnecessary first scene was set on the stage floor, where everything’s lost if you’re not in the first row. Not the playwright’s fault. There were moments of surprise and strength, whole passages that were lyrically mysterious. At other times (4, I counted) a character just stood in the middle of the stage and told the audience what they should be thinking. The play dipped into and out of the myth, sometimes clearly missing the point. The Theater itself is developing a clean and readable expressive technique, and I think the play may have been better for having been done there rather than somewhere else. Did I enjoy the show? Yes. I found it interesting. I laughed at several jokes. The guy playing Hades was subtly magnificent. There were moments of real inventiveness. It was better for me than sitting home watching Jeopardy. I learned something of the craft by watching it, how certain strategies play to an audience, what things to avoid. Sent me into an orgy of revision in the AM.

Revised Nighthawks and Make Me a Willow Cabin in one day.