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to croon

November 8, 2018

More on Improvement! We just finished another week’s work. Biggest news is that we’ll be doing seven shows at the Kitchen in February rather than three. We’ll have full info and links as soon as all that is available.

A bunch of things occurred to me these past few days, but I’ll just share a few for now:

1.) The restaurant that Linda and her companion are dining in when they get disrupted by some metaphorical anti-Semites in Sc 16, “Trouble”, in my mind is Grand Szechuan in Chelsea, quite near the Kitchen. Amirtha was also picturing the restaurant as a Chinese restaurant. Something about round tables, maybe? In any event, you can probably find us eating there at some points during the run. Yum as heck.

2.) When Linda lists everything that she’s consumed that day in Sc 15, “The Good Life”, and has this wonderful, spacious environment in which to vocally unfurl the list, I am reminded of the part in Vanity 6’s “Nasty Girl” when Vanity asks for something that she can croon to. Of course I don’t think that what Prince delivers after that request in “Nasty Girl” is really all that good for crooning, but if Linda rhetorically asked for something she can croon to to list her intake, this would be more than sufficient.

3.) When Linda sets up the letter from Junior, Jr in Sc 19, “The Bridge Game”, she says “I’d like to read you this letter from my son”. I didn’t rigorously double check this, but having been living inside the piece for a while, I’m pretty sure this is the only second person bit of the piece where there’s no clear “you” being addressed. The assumption would be that she’s talking to three friends she’s playing bridge with. It’s not clear at all. It’s a cool moment.

4.) In Sc 12, at the very end of Act I, there are mysterious figures “hidden but near” to Linda, and the narrator says that “they are watching”. Linda tells them they don’t, can’t understand her and expresses some optimism the world will change eventually. Then the narrator counts these lurkers as “four or five people, secretly drunk”, just feeling it kick in. I love the ambiguity of four or five people. The fuzziness is so perfect and threatening.

(This is Dave speaking… or rather, writing)

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