Friday, May 4, 2012

FELA!

THIS IS A MUSICAL THAT DOES NOT ALLOW FOR REST......
THE STAGE IS SET AT THE EMERSON MAJESTIC. THE TICKETS PURCHASED IN THE LOBBY WHICH IS
ORNATE, BAROQUE ROCCOCO GILDED BAS RELIEF CHERUBS ON THE WALLS AND CEILING....I AM NICELY SURPRISED TO SEE THE SEAT IN THE BALCONY IS UPGRADED TO THE MEZZANINE.
INSIDE, THE MEZZANINE SEATING LOOKS OUT UPON A STAGE THAT IS WAITING...THE LADDERS ARE
AS IF THE SET DESIGNER FORGOT TO PICK UP HIS TOOLS AND EQUIPMENT. WINGS OF THE BACKSTAGE SEEM TO BE IN THE FOREGROUND...THERE IS A BALCONY BORDERING THE TOP....
THEN, I SEE THAT THERE ARE VIDEO SCREENS OF NEWSPAPER HEADLINES ABOUT THE WAR IN
NIGERIA...SEARCH LIGHTS SEEMS TO BE ROTATING AT THE TOP OF THE STAGE.
FELA IS THE NAME OF A NIGERIAN AUTHOR ARTIST AND PERFORMER WHO TRAVELLED TO NEW YORK
FROM HIS NATIVE LAND. THE PLAY IS NOT SO QUIET...ALTHOUGH, TO ME, THE TALE IS NOT SO
UNIQUE...HE COMES TO AMERICA AND MARRIES AN AFRICAN AMERICAN...HIS WAR IN NIGERIA
IS BLARING FROM THE START OF THE PLAY......
THE MUSIC AND DANCE IS NOT SLIGHTLY BRASSY BUT BOLD AND BRASSY AND FOR SOME
REASON INHERENT TO THE NIGERIAN CULTURE, THE DANCERS HAVE THE BACKS TO THE AUDIENCE
...POSSIBLY THEIR WIGGLE AND TWIST THAT IS CLAD IN FEATHERS IS BEST DISPLAYED
BUT AT FIRST MANY SETTINGS AND DANCES SEEM RUDE...WHY ARE THEIR (THE DANCERS)
BACKS TO THE AUDIENCE? WHY IS FELA THE LEAD ACTOR SHOUTING SO MANY PREACHY
TALES ABOUT THE WAR IN NIGERIA? WHY IS IT SO LOUD....THE MUSIC IS , AFTER A WHILE
VERY ENERGIZING...THE JAZZ TAP AFTER A WHILE ...SO GREAT TO SEE!
THE FLASHES OF LIGHT, THE SHADOW PLAYS ON THE SCRIM OF FLAMES, CROCODILES,
...THE PHOTOS OF THE TREES IN NIGERIA ON THE SEVERAL VIDEO SCREENS...
IT IS LIKE A FULL PLATE OF GROUND NUT STEW! WITH MANY A SALAD, GLASS OF WINE!
AND A SOFT FACE..NOT HARRY BELAFONTE'S NOT HUGH MASEKELA...BUT THE DECLARATION
OF WE ARE HERE AND NOW AND THIS IS OUR LAND...FELA IS THE FACE ACROSS THE TABLE
A TOAST TO NIGERIA!

Friday, February 3, 2012

Sea Glass by Anita Shreve

Unusual to read a novel. My habits in reading veer toward texts and how to craft books.
But, I stepped out and read this novel.
It is hard to "get into" because although the subject is not far away, the writing is not
usual for my wit. The book takes place here in New England. The author made up
a fictitious village, Ely near Lowell Mass where the Gin Mills are operative. The time
is when the Lawrence Gin Mills went on strike back in the 1930s. Well, all this seems
right up my alley. I love visiting Lowell when Lowell Celebrates Jack Kerouac. I love
visiting the Boot Mill in Lowell and watching a dramatization of the Lawrence strike. I like
looking at the running weaving machines although no longer in use, now only
a museum to look at ,..it is kind of intriguing...as are the many spinning wheels and
explained displays of how cotton from the south becomes spun into fabric. All
very appropriate to learn about.
The book has a central couple who have travelled to Boston, Ely Mills village to
settle. They are recently wed and need to start a life among this population of
Gin Mill workers....needless to say , their struggle is great and they nearly
lose their new house to foreclosure because of the working conditions and the
lack of place for a new couple.
It is not about a jew getting along in a white community. It is about a white
couple who metaphorically are gazing at the sea glass collected on the
beaches in the area...Cape Cod and along the Merrimack. Like their life,
the sea glass is worn down, covered with pock marks from the washing of the
waves and becomes a pleasing found object to gaze upon.
It is an interesting read for the demography and politics of the time and place. The
workers are forced to accept managements decisions to lower wages for their
tedious gin mill work....and this brings foreclosure to the McDermott's house.
The Mc Dermotts are the central couple.
There are some very beautiful metaphors in the book...."Honora looks for sea glass.
She finds a slim sliver of amethyst and a jewel-like bit of cobalt. She picks up a thick chunk that looks like dirty ice after a long winter, ice that has been skated on and gone cloudy with use.....She puts the pieces in her pocket and takes them home and lays them on a
windowsill."( page 110).