Monday Morning Musings:
Men should be what they seem,
Or those that be not, would they might seem none!
–William Shakespeare, Othello, Act III, Scene iii
“ they are not men o’ their words: they told me I was everything; ’tis a lie…”
–William Shakespeare, King Lear, Act IV, Scene vi
“Here’s wishing you the bluest sky
And hoping something better comes tomorrow
Hoping all the verses rhyme,
And the very best of choruses to
Follow all the doubt and sadness
I know that better things are on their way.”
–from Dar Williams, “Better Things”
We walk through a living, mortal city
see buildings transformed
here an insurance building, now condominiums
a Starbucks at its base
is the history erased
or still held there, a trace of perfume or smoke
left somewhere in a bit of old oak
and here, the cobblestones and bricks remain
some things, perhaps, stay the same
We travel through space and time
in books, movies, theater, art
from my small town’s fall festival
to Philadelphia streets
then we enter the London theater
of centuries ago—a show,
the stage framed with the red velvet proscenium curtains
uncertain what we will see
amongst the esteemed company
there at Convent Garden
where a substitute actor
steps in to play the part of Othello, the Moor–
a black man? Well, that’s not been done before!
A character declares, “People come to the theater to get away from reality.”
The cast members of this well-known London troupe are divided,
some undecided about how they feel,
but willing to try some new techniques
or at least to somewhat tweak
their stylized manner and gestures
though scandalized at how Othello touches Desdemona
Do they understand the play and his persona?
We see a bit of the handkerchief scene
enough to glean how it might have been
the critics were vicious, in racist prose
derided Ira Aldridge’s performance in the show.
He is an anomaly upon the stage
We see there both passion and his rage
later hear him, as Lear in madness decry the lies
as fury builds and slowly dies,
around him, slavery still exists
(and even now)
though we can hope through sorrow
that better things come tomorrow
and better things are on their way
We discuss and dine
and drink some wine
(well, beer for him)
we’re both well pleased by the cheese
that we nibble sitting there as day turns to night
caressed by a breeze
perhaps it’s wandered round the world
unfurled and carried hope and sorrow
and we discuss the present and the lies
ignorance that triumphs over facts or the wise
but still we hope that tomorrow
better things are on their way
Younger daughter and I go to a concert
Dar Williams sang of the pagans and Christians
sitting at the table–
and just like them, we’re able to sit with different folk
but at least they were silent, and no one spoke
and I was more fascinated than annoyed
by the man touching the woman and the other woman stroking her hair
both unaware, I suppose, that we couldn’t help but stare
as we enjoyed the songs, the reading, our food and wine
so yes, we also came to dine
(a bit like the Gilmore Girls—
if they were vegetarians with curls)
and Dar sang of the babysitter, now urban planner
and “positive proximity”
(despite city’s life often anonymity)
she spoke of transformations she has seen
spaces empty and dark, now full of life, green
and when she sang “Iowa,” we all sang along
we all sang the chorus to the song
and despite lost hopes in November
our fears and sorrow
we left in hopes for better things tomorrow
that better things are on their way
In the blood
in the dreams
in the cities
and in the seams
and it seems
and it seems
that we wade through streams
against the current
things that are and things that weren’t
sometimes floating
ever light
drifting far and out of sight
journeys through space, time, day, and night
to ponder, to wonder
at art’s spell, we fall under
does it hide or amplify
the truth and the lies
and those who are afraid of women
and those who lie, quite unredeemed
or even worse
(notes on a theme)
they are exactly what they seem
but in our sorrow, we can dream of tomorrow
and let hope linger here, now stay
better things are on their way
We saw Red Velvet at the Lantern Theater Company. The play is based on the life of the real actor, Ira Aldridge. We saw Dar Williams at World Cafe Live.
More wonderful musings on an excellent weekend.
Thank you, Derrick for your comment–and the video, too!
I lift my glass (well, it’s a morning cup) to liberal libations and dipping your crusts into salsa (?) and pots of profound drama in your fair city. Maybe I misunderstood, but I was puzzled by this: “. . . a substitute actor steps in to play the part of Othello, the Moor–a black man?” I thought Othello is usually played by a black man.
You, Doug and the girls have rich, cultural life with Philly so close.
Here’s to hope for a good today and a better tomorrow. 🙂
Thank you for your kind thoughts and comments, Marian. No salsa over the weekend–bread, cheese, jam, and chips at Tria, and at the World Café, we had a hummus platter, seitan “wings”, and eggplant fries with some kind of horseradish dip. YUM!
In the mid-nineteenth century, Othello was played by a white men in black face (as previously, men played women’s roles). There were few black professional actors anyway, and Aldridge, who was born in New York, left the U.S. for England in the hopes of obtaining more work. In 1833, Aldridge was the first black man to play Othello on a major London stage. Like Othello, he was also married to a white woman.
I love it when you take me to Philadelphia with you. So much to see and do, though I would have liked to have spent more time with Othello and felt I was intruding on you and your daughter. So sorry. But, eager to go back again. 🙂
Hahaha. Thanks, Janet.
I actually would have liked to have seen more of Othello in the play, too–and more about the protests and such going on.
My daughter and I didn’t feel like you were intruding. No worries. 😉
The song of Dar Williams I first heard was ‘The Great Unknown’ and it still is as relevant today as it was then… (maybe growing up as a nuclear family has something to do with it) – the history slips away for the future and all the promises, just don’t look at the cracks in the facade…
I love that song, too. It does resonate–nuclear families and duck and cover drills. She didn’t do it last night though. She was also reading from her new book. The first song I heard of hers was “When I was a Boy,” which she did sing last night. I can still remember hearing it when I was in the car one night, and then looking for her album.
What a wonderful play-going life! Food and wine looks lovely. The cancer center in that photo gave me pause because it first seemed a blight on the landscape, then a haven.
Thank you, Luanne. The play was interesting–lots of things to think about.
That is a great point about a blight and then a haven. That area of the city is full of Jefferson University/hospital buildings, medical centers and offices, and there is such a mixture of buildings that are old, new, and renovated for new purposes.
I knew right where you were all the time! (I go to Wills Eye Hospital there). What nice things you do!
Aww–thank you, Claudia. That’s fun that you know where we were.
When we walked a bit down Walnut Street after the play, my husband realized that was where we had taken my mom for her appointment with a retina specialist. There are so many medical buildings around there!
Yes, very convenient, I took my son to Wills for years when he was small for eye appointments plus my retina issues more recently. I worked in the Independence Hall area for a long time and used to walk along Walnut up to Broad to our other building, past these sites, all the time. Many memories.
🙂
You always have such full and interesting weekends! And thanks, as always, for sharing.
I seem to always reach for Dar’s “The Beauty of the Rain”. But, yes, better things! (K)
Thank you very much, Kerfe. Oh, yes, “The Beauty of the Rain” is a good one. I only thought of better things because she sang it at the end of her concert.
So much attention to sounds in this–a pleasure to read, and makes me think that it reflects the music and the cadence of your art-filled weekend.
What an interesting observation, Jennifer. Thank you! (And I’m glad you enjoyed it.) 🙂
Yes, much sorrow and despair in November, but you’re right, Merril, let’s hope for better things to come. Perhaps a lovely slice of “impeach” pie?
Lovely photos as always filled with love, food, and wine. Cheers, dear friend. 🥂
Impeach pie! 🙂 A very large pie that includes the whole gang!
Thank you, Rose!
Yesssss!👍🏻👍🏻👍🏻
🙂
I also thought like Marian that Othello was a black man or acted by a black man – thank you for your musings Merril, I much enjoyed the lyrical meanderings! May all our tomorrows be brighter – and those breezes from afar and from so long ago bring in refreshing recollections.
Thank you, Susan. I suppose I was not clear that Ira Aldridge lived in the 19th century–though I included the portrait of him. Yes, let us hope that for all of our tomorrows!
Dar Williams came to Ohio and it was a busy winter weekend, months ago after you mentioned her. I regret that I wasn’t able to go. She sounds wonderful in your description and how she reaches into your heart and mind, Merril through her music.
Ira Aldridge sounds like someone who is amazing and fearless. Thanks for this share that meant a lot. Your photos show such fun and laughter. This means you truly do have hope in your heart. 💞
That is such a kind comment. Thank you, Robin!
Yes, same daughter and I saw Dar Williams at the same location last October. We both really like her music, but she is also a very engaging, down-to-earth performer. And the World Cafe Live is a great venue to see performances.
I imagine Ira Aldridge was amazing and fearless. I didn’t know anything about him until I starting seeing info about this play.