Shakespeare in the Park’s Twelth Night

I braved the rain this past Friday to stand in line for tickets to see the first play of the Public Theater’s Shakespeare in the Park season, Twelfth Night. The experience both of getting tickets and seeing the play is unique. As I suggest in the video, the play is easily worth the process–I waited for tickets for only 3 hours!

I lucked out with clear skies and a faithful, delightful performance that had the audience laughing every other minute. The acting and the music was excellent, as I hope you can see in the video. Unfortunately, the Ravels in Motion crew is not used to shooting at night (and I was more interested in the play, to be honest) but hopefully you get enough of an idea to get in line at 8 AM in the upcoming weeks and see it for yourself.

Did I mention tickets were free? Anne Hathaway can sing? It’s on the lake at Central Park?

Savage Beauty: Edna St. Vincent Millay’s Life

To be a biographer must be a great thing, I for one find the lives of the writers and artists whose work I love as interesting as their work. I’ve been deep into Savage Beauty, Nancy Milford’s biography of Edna St. Vincent Millay. Like other poets I love, she difficult, demanding, calculating, celebrity-mongering, brilliant poet of love affairs and bohemianism and addictions. I swear I loved her for writing before I knew she had a place between Baudelaire and Byron in the annals of poete maudit.

I followed the poet from girlhood, where she was an ambitious poet, to adulthood, when she remained an ambitious child in an aging shell. The fairy tale Millay helped create of herself, as the little girl poet from Maine who gives voice to a generation of Jazz babies, a seductive whip of a girl sleeping with anybody whose anybody, falls apart.

Let the rest of us, she grows old. She doesn’t take it well. Chronic drinking develops into addiction rather than lifestyle, and a habit for morphine steals her middle age. She becomes a hollowed out thing who could no longer write. And this she records in a notebook even as she stops writing all else. What time she wakes up, what she consumes, everything until she goes to bed.

A fascinating blog called Daily Routines pieces together how various distinguished people past and present lived. Gerard Richter woke up at 6:15 am to fix his family breakfast before starting work in his studio at 8 am. The writer Haruki Murakami for example runs marathons after working all morning. Millay in her early 50s was quite the opposite:

Chart
Miss Millay
Dec. 31, 1940

Awoke 7:30, after untroubled night. Pain less than previous day.
7:35- Urinated- no difficulty or distress
7:40- 3/8 gr. M.S. hypodermically, self-administered in left upper arm…
7:45-8- smoked cigarette (Egyptian) mouth burns from excessive smoking
8:15- Thirsty, went to the ice box for a glass of water, but no water there. Take can of beer instead which do not want. Headache, lassitude…
8:20- cigarette (Egyptian)
9:00- “
9:30- Gin Rickey (cigarette)
11:15- Gin Rickey
12:15- Martini (4 cigarettes)
12:45- 1/4 grain M.S. & cigarette
1.- Pain bad and also in lumbar region. no relief from M.S.

(M.S. is a morphine shot.)

Her devoted and charming husband Eugene took care of her like she was a little child through all this, even developing his own morphine addiction to see what she was going through by attempting to quit. After he died of lung cancer in his 50s, Edna was left alone and she kicked her morphine habit, although she continued to use prodigious amounts of alcohol and other pills. Yet she was finally beginning to write poetry again. Then, a year and half after Eugen died, she fell down the stairs of her home and broke her neck.

Ravels in Review Friday


Here we are again, two weeks into June and no sign of the rain letting up. Rain, rain, rain….

Anyhow, what did we talk about this week? Looks like we were all over the place.

  • No consensus was reached over a top 200 artist list by the Times. (No Surprise there).
  • My formula for how to destroy a cocktail party or create change looks like art critic Jerry Saltz’s Facebook page.

This constant rain is especially annoying as I was going to go get tickets to Shakespeare in the Park this morning. Now I have a conundrum. Not only if I should wait in the rain, but is the performance going to get rained out? Alas, our frailty is the cause of such concern, as Viola would say, and I think I’m go find an anarok and trudge out there.