Wives May Be Merry and Yet....

April 13, 2007

They say smell triggers memory. But, every once in a while, a certain phrase of dialogue makes the past vivid for a fleeting moment. I suppose it is a consequence of theater. We study the language for so long and it remains imprinted indelibly in our brains. Some of the time. When it is a play I don't wish to forget. The passage of time buries those happy thoughts… until the articulation pulls them out again.

Last night I returned to my alma mater and watched a production of The Merry Wives of Windsor (Texas). I am devoutly fond of that seldom produced Shakespearean comedy. I owe that devotion - and pretty much most of my passion for all of the compleat works - to my involvement in another Lesley interpretation … gasp… thirteen years ago. It was the happiest experience I had in college, learning that language and struggling every night NOT to burst into laughter on the stage. Such a funny, funny play.

Four years ago, I directed it. I had an equally amazing experience, with a group of actors I still count amongst my favorite friends. The short-lived tradition of Barre Buddy Nights cemented the bonding and the sense of fun that came onto the stage in very hysterical moments.

Both of those interpretations echoed through my brain as I watched the students perform.(when did 18 become so much like 12?) I could see so perfectly my co-star as Mistress Page pounding her fist to her forehead saying 'peer out! Peer out!" Or in the later production, our Dr. Caius rambling in an exaggerated French accent looking for his green-a box… wearing that very attractive shag carpet vest.

God. I LOVE this play. It has yielded some of my favorite memories of working in theater. I give a good deal of the credit to the language and story that is so silly it can produce sore stomach muscles. But, I suppose, just as much credit has to be given to the dramatis personae of the cast and crew on both productions. Last night left me with a lot of questions wondering where some might be this decade and some years later. Some I've encountered… some I just wonder… but they remain in my memory locked, preserved perfectly (and maybe with a merciful cloud to the imperfection of our sophomoric acting abilities).

It's unfortunate. I had to argue the merits of this play a week ago. And had I the brain power and the experience of last night fresh in my mind this Friday, perhaps my argument would not have floundered so pathetically. Ah well. There is always another opportunity. And for now, I'll just relish in the pribbles and prabbles of my wistful recollection.