By the time this is actually posted, it will be more official, and I suppose will matter less.
I just got off the phone with a good friend, describing to her where the Articles of Incorporation for Theatre de la Jeune Lune were in the file drawers. The reason for this was to begin the process of dissolving the Company. By the time I leave for Norway this weekend, the theatre where I spent twelve years of my life, the place I still consider “home,” will be on it’s way to being dissolved. The building that I cared for so deeply will be sold — and the work, well, how exactly does one archive theatre, whose very purpose is to be ephemeral, a one-evening at a time dialogue between artists and audience?
I have so many of those moments in my head right now. Even before I started, seeing Lulu and Yang Zen Froggs and being transported to another place. After I began with the company, opening the curtains of the Loring Playhouse to reveal the traffic beyond in The Ballroom. The opening weekend of Children of Paradise: Shooting a Dream, still my favorite show ever. The raw, weathered elements of Hamlet. The rich red earth of Medea. Staying through the drink break every night for Magic Flute. Singing Mozart’s Requiem all together after the opera classes. Other events in the space, from shows such as The Juniper Tree to music events to parties. A horse in an indoor parade afraid of the Babar elephant from Children’s Theater. Happy hour on the roof. Emily’s wedding. Sitting around the table in the kitchen.
Dominique, who can make you feel like no other when he praises you. Barbra, who is the woman I hope to be someday, brilliant yet empathetic and full of creativity. Lovable Vincent who can build and create and act and direct as a true renaissance man. Bob, who is not only the “luckiest man in show biz,” but who can also explain the company to anyone. Steve, and Steve, and Felicity, and so many others through the years.
I don’t know how to describe what a sad loss this is. I know, intellectually, that something will continue, that this kind of spirit cannot be extinguished and that there are plans for something to begin again somehow. But right now I can’t choke down the feelings of waste, of sadness, of grief and loss, of some kind of elemental anger that is made all the worse because I don’t know what to be upset with. It’s not like this is a surprise, but on the other hand I never thought I would really face it.
The new moon holds
For one night long
The old moon in its arms.