So, right off the bat, I'm going to say if the theatrical aspect of my life bores or confounds you please bail out of this post now. As for the rest of you......
So, tonight I went to the Helen Hayes Awards. In my opinion, the most absurd evening of theatre that DC has to offer. It's theatre trying to ape the the back stratching self importance of the oscars. The price for the average layman ins around $400. (I know I can't believe it either.) What an important evening it is.
How did I end up there you might be asking youself at this point? Well my dear friend Deb Randall runs Venus Theatre, and her partner Alan couldn't go. When she offerend I though,"why not." And moving on to that specific why (to follow your how), I can sum it up in one simple word: spectacle. How could I pass up a chance to see all walks of the theatre community parading around like animals in a three ring circus. I assure you I was not dissapointed.
I quickly threw together a hodge-podge getup that would be 'worthy" of entrance. For the sake of posterity and humor, it went a little something like this:
(Why yes, that is a tie.....and a 1980's vintage Joy Division pin. What's so funny?)
After a delightfull meal at my favorite Thai place in Chinatown (strip mall ville) Deb and I sauntered over to ground zero. The crowd outside alone, felt like a flock of seagulls desperatelly searching for that last morstel of beach debris. Finally our ticket bearer arrived and we went into the deep. I couldn't keep from laughing the entire time. All these people busily jutting around, to the nines. And when we finally emerged onto the balcony and I saw the stage esemble, I could not contain myself. White legs drowned amber with gels, a full orchestra, and a huge "picture frame" projector screen showcasing stills from last years DC area productions. And in a few short moments, away we went.
Like a downsized version of the Tonys, out comes a glittering MC, in song. The cheese of the Tonys however, was not skimmped on. Deb leaned over and said," Oh good, this woman keeps things on schedule." I can only imagine what the alternative was. She did shoot quickly into the first category however, and from that point on we were trapped in the ride of," and the nomnees are: the same four big companies, with big budgets that win every year." (Okay, so not entirely like that, but I'm sure you understand.) After three awards I grew very, very.......very weary of applauding. So, I made a deal with myself, from then on to only clap for the things I cared for. (I sat still alot) To our credit, at least two shows nominated took place at the Warehouse (why yes, we do have a theatre) I clapped for shows I believed in, and people I liked. I did not clap during the lets give an award to horrible corporate donars who do this not to like totaly life sucking bastards. I likewise could not bring my hands together when the artistic director of Studio Theatre was basically lauded for gentrifying 14th St NW. (And then went on and on with this romantically unrealistic speech about how her vision had changed the neighborhood for the best.) At some point we all had to watch a short film narated by Jessica Lansberry, about the guy who wrote Hello Dolly. They gave him some rather large achievement type award, after which her came out, spoke, and did a few numbers. It was alot like mass: stand, sit, stand, sit, stand, (kneel), sit. What I found particularly enraging were the whole sets of categories set up for bullshit, big budget, touring musicalls. So The Producers "broadway tour" came to the Kennedy Center; how does that compete with Wooly's Grace? I mean they must have given an hours worth of awards away to these third rate traveling shows. You know what I have to say about Billy Joel's musical Movin' Out?: Fuck Billy Joel. Micheal Kahn won some awards (supprise) and gave some awkward speeches. One guy got up and at least said that there were other shows than merely the ones that the Helen Hayes awards deems worthy to mention, and that they were important, and that people should see them, and keep doing them. But he prefaced this with the fact that his supperiors had told him not to say this since they were trying to raise money for a new building. This is my number one pet peve in DC theare. Quit making crap, marketing friendly, "safe" theatre to raise money for some bullshit new space. Hey, I have an idea, why not invest that money towards making more interesting, and risk taking theatre? And just as quickly as it had begun, it was all over. (The high point of the evening was a salute to theatre technicians, using real techies, including my friend Jen from Arena Stage. Screw guns as musical number props, genius.)
We hit the door and shot out towards the reception. Imagine you greatest fantasy: free open bars, and buffet tables as far as the I can see. Now imagine that fantasy wasted on a straight-edge vegan. Though at one point I did manage to find a cup of coffee that was, as agent cooper would put it, damn good. This is where the pomp and parade really began. Imagine an overly important, formal, open bar, reception, filled with theatre people. (I know, gives me shivers too.) A funny thing happened though, about an hour into it I realized two things: one, I know ALOT of people in the theatre people in the DC community, two, I can't remember people's names for shit. I felt like a used car dealer; every three feet it was,"Hi, how are ya? Well you look good." It felt like I talked to a hundred-thousand people (I can't even count that high). Deb and I were there for HOURS. We hit the dance floor, she hit the bar, and we hit the rooms and lobby over, and over, and over, again re-greeting people we'd already seen, and sprinting off in mid sentance to embrace someone we hadn't. The high point had to have been when we sat down and Michael Kahn came over. He asked us to watch his drinks for him, and Deb invited him to see her new play. He seriously sounded interested. However, when he came back over to tell Deb to send him an e-mail to remind him she asked where, and he said,"Oh, you know, just e-mail it to the Shakespeare Theare." We officially tried to leave for an hour, and every time we got two steps towards the door the whole cycle started all over again. Finally we made one last desperate attempt, and found ourselves on the other side of the doors. The entire HH saga lasted from eight until two in the morning. I have honestly never witnessed anything like it. And to the people who I ran into that actually said,"How did you get in here?" I've got news for them, They'll be seeing me again next year. What a lunatic profession I have chosen.
