A Personal Reflection on Opening Weekend of SCAB
On the evening of Friday before last I traveled to Chicago from New York to attend the gala performance of SCAB - or SCRB if you will. The flight was relatively uneventful, until something remarkable happened - even if only in my imagination. During our decent from 30,000 feet the sight of Chicago's cityscape - from my tiny oval in the side of the plane - was incredible and held within it's striking aspect the promise of a memorable trip. In the darkness the city lights lay out on a grid - like an army of fireflies marching to the edge of the horizon, where upon arrival, they disappeared and darkness again claimed reign of the night. I fumbled with my digital camera and attempted to catch the glorious view, but the results were blurred and failed to capture the glowing expanse of the city. I touched down just after midnight.
Saturday was a beautiful day. It was one of those days that, for me, captures the quintessence of spring in Chicago - at least as I recall it on blustery days during the winter. I arrived early at the theatre with Seth and Erica and while pouring glasses of Chardonnay into plastic cups and passing out chilled beers it struck me, that in that moment, I would've rather been no place else. It was among audience members shuffling into the unique, recently renovated EP Theater; actors stretching their muscles and preparing their voices before the performance; company members in the lobby just managing to keep the mounting anticipation beneath the skin and behind the voice (except for when it escaped in little, nervous burps of excitement); shoulders sitting in the darkness looking on as my friends took the stage and told their story that I felt sincerely at home.
On Sunday, which was again one of those remarkable spring days, I begrudgingly called a cab to take me to O'Hare in order to board a plane that would whiz me off back to New York. I wished that I could see the show again. I wished that I could, every night, stand behind the bar and hand out beers to those whom made the decision to come see our show.
Congrats to all involved with SCAB. Collision Theatre Rocks. Period. Have a wonderful run!
Saturday was a beautiful day. It was one of those days that, for me, captures the quintessence of spring in Chicago - at least as I recall it on blustery days during the winter. I arrived early at the theatre with Seth and Erica and while pouring glasses of Chardonnay into plastic cups and passing out chilled beers it struck me, that in that moment, I would've rather been no place else. It was among audience members shuffling into the unique, recently renovated EP Theater; actors stretching their muscles and preparing their voices before the performance; company members in the lobby just managing to keep the mounting anticipation beneath the skin and behind the voice (except for when it escaped in little, nervous burps of excitement); shoulders sitting in the darkness looking on as my friends took the stage and told their story that I felt sincerely at home.
On Sunday, which was again one of those remarkable spring days, I begrudgingly called a cab to take me to O'Hare in order to board a plane that would whiz me off back to New York. I wished that I could see the show again. I wished that I could, every night, stand behind the bar and hand out beers to those whom made the decision to come see our show.
Congrats to all involved with SCAB. Collision Theatre Rocks. Period. Have a wonderful run!
Labels: opening, personal, productions, scab
posted by Jason at 11:26 AM
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