As I was dropping off postcards yesterday, I stopped in a shop that sells soccer stuff, and asked if I could leave some there. The proprietor said sure, and asked if I was in one of the plays; I said I wrote one, and he asked if it was the one at Liberty Hall, and I said no, but I'd seen it. "It's about the Countess Markevicz," he told me. "And her sister who (he paused) kicked with the other foot, so to speak." Of course, I told him. (Being goofyfooted myself). He said he'd read about it in the papers, and even though he was a man, he would go see it. Way to go, Carolyn!
The photo at left is the view from my hotel window today. Oscar Wilde looks longingly up at my floor-to-ceiling window and longingly down at the pretty boys.
I spent a lot of yesterday getting postcards out, but still found time to get a brief massage (of course) and buy some presents. Two museum visits: The Dublin Writers Museum, which was quite enjoyable, and let me completely geek out at the Stuff from Irish Writers on display, ranging from typewriters to tuxedos, as well as a VERY LOUD acoustiguide. As I went through, I made note of Maria Edgeworth, and Elizabeth Bowen and Lady Gregory and...not a whole lot of other women. After awhile, it kind of began to hurt.
In the bookshop, I picked up several cool presents, and fortunately, there was a decent selection of women writers, though all were pretty much modern. I bought Nuala O'Failan's "I Am Somebody." She died last week and all of Dublin mourned (though I note she'd mostly lived in Brooklyn in the last several years), and from the way people talked about her, I thought I should pick up her first memoir. I was glad to see in the papers that they mentioned she'd had long-term relationships with both a woman and a man. (Somehow I don't think they would hae been so specific even a few years ago). So far, the book is quite good and bleak.
Then to the Hugh Lane, which I'd been saving for a treat, and which turned out to be...not so much a treat. I was all psyched to see the lovely Impressionist collection, because I can sit in front of a good Impressionist painting and get all warm and fuzzy. But they are about to celebrate their centennial...NEXT month, so almost all the galleries are closed in preparation and all the really famous paintings are being prepared for the centennial exhibit. But I'm here NOW! So boo! I had a good chat with a couple of the guards, though. They'd heard about the play with the Countess. It's so awesome to have regular people in the street talk about theater as a regular part of their lives. (Neither the guards nor I were really into the Sean Scully exhibit. I liked the original fireplace in the room, though). And Fiona Shaw was on the acoustiguide. My favorite Medea/Aunt Petunia.
I had some fish & chips & attended Mass. Yes. I do that every now and then. I rather miss it. I lit a candle, and listened to the boys' choir and laughed when the priest began to talk about Pentecost and two pigeons suddenly burst into flight above us. They really wanted to get busy. I could tell. I'm from New York. I was brooding a bit about the Church and why they essentially threw me away when I came out, and thought: it's their loss. I was such a GOOD Catholic. That sounds like the first line of a play to me. We'll see.
And stopped by the Sinn Fein office (and souvenir store) on the way to the Teachers Club, and saw a picture of the Countess Markevicz for sale. I asked the guy if I could leave my postcards, etc. I was a playwright and: are you the one who wrote the Countess Play? No, but I saw it, and it's wonderful. It's written by an American you know, he told me. I know! And he asked where I was from and I said New York City, and he said he'd lived there too, and I said what part, and he said, oh, you know, in Queens. And I said Woodside? He said Astoria. So mostly likely we were neighbors in the last decade or so.
Then over to our theater to see everyone; I miss them terribly during the day!
I was soaking up their company so greedily that I realized I had to BOOK to get back across the Liffey to make the curtain for Corpus Christi. (Teachers Club & Cobalt Cafe are the 2 northnermost venues, with most of the others on the Temple Bar/South side). I JUST barely made it, and it was worth it. I missed the protesters (there were two of them the night before), but there was an announcement made before the show about it.
This is a highly re-imagined version by a group out of LA. First of all, the cast is mixed gender (as opposed to all-male) which only enhances the play. The people in it are of various ages and sizes, and ethnic backgrounds. They played the story of Jesus, as a gay man, in Texas. You could tell how deeply they were devoted to it, and each other. There was a lot of beautiful individual work as well as an organic group feeling. And the whole last bit is the Passion, read from the Bible and acted out by the players. I was a wreck. I mean head in my lap sobbing. The fellows next to me looked worried. I had to go away for a bit afterward to collect myself.
I caught up with most of the cast at the Dragon later, and got to tell them how much it had moved me, and find out a little bit about them. It started as a 4-week gig...two years ago, and is still going strong. They are trying to come to NYC in time for the play's 10th anniversary, and I'd love to see them there.
And most of the rest of the EATies turned up, and David and Moe, and I saw how we all stood in groups that were made up of people from everywhere. One guy's arm around the cute young guy from Brian's play, the South Africans chatting with the Angelenos and New Yorkers, and I get the feeling there's going to be a lot of cross-cultural contact (and probably some international travel) coming up after this for a lot of folks.
I cabbed it back to the Clarion and took a bath in the lovely tub with a bath ball I'd bought from Lush, and went to bed fragrant and smooth.
And to the Eliza Lodge this morning, where Oscar Wilde looks out over the Liffey, and I'm off to at least 3 shows today! (Maybe more...)
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