Saturday's showing of John Gabriel Borkman:

When I went into the theater, an usher pointed me up a flight of stairs that seemed to go on for eternity.  Unlike most New Yorkers I've seen, I'm not in particularly good physical condition, which was very apparent as I huffed and puffed my way up those stairs.

But I made it.  The seats up there are goofy little bar-stools, but the view was pretty good, even with a giraffe of a guy sat in front of me.  If you are fat and out of shape, though, it's really a good idea to splurge on the expensive seats at BAM's Harvey Theater, or you won't be comfortable.

I've heard people say that they can't go because they have no one to go with, but as far as I could tell, there were plenty of people who appeared to be on their own.  Really, no one cares.  So if you want to go see a play and have no one to go with, just go anyways.

The set is very minimalistic, yet striking,  with five distinct, brilliant white mounds of snow against a pure black  background.  There is some period furniture in the foreground, which gets hauled away in the darkness by guys in black when necessary.

In the first scene, Gundhild Borkman (Fiona Shaw) and Ella Rentheim (Lindsey Duncan), met each other for the first time in many years.   Gunhild has been shamed by her husband, a bank manager who spent time in prison for embezzlement.  She is counting on her son to restore the family honor, but her sister Ella has her own plans for Erhart, who she took care of after Gunhild no longer could.   This is where I began to see what a fantastic actress Fiona Shaw is.  I've only seen her as Aunt Petunia in the Harry Potter movies, but she's really impressive.

Meanwhile, we hear the footsteps of John Gabriel Borkman himself, as he paces back and forth in his rooms upstairs.  He's being living in the upper floor of the estate (which now belongs to Ella), in self-imposed isolation for the past eight years since getting out of prison.  He's been pacing back and forth, obsessing about his eventual return to power.  Alan later said that he spends that scene alone in his dressing room with the sound turned off.

He said he doesn't like the feeling of being isolated from the play, but it helps him to not hear what Gunhild and Ella are saying, because they are talking about his character, who is really too self-absorbed to realize how his actions affect others.

At the end of the scene, the stage goes dark, and the movers come on and discreetly change the furniture.  One of them is an imposing, silver-haired figure in the darkness, slowly carrying a candelabra onto the set and placing it on the piano in the middle of the stage.  The lights come up to illuminate the scene, and he's standing, completely still, in front of the piano, while a young girl starts to play.  My eyes filled up with tears for a moment, because it was like, there he is.  It was--what can I say--sublime.  Then he began to talk, as Borkman, and I was back in the story.   Oh my, that moment will stay with me forever.

I'm not going to describe every scene of the play, but it was such a joy to watch him.  It always is, but onstage it's more.  The other actors were excellent as well, but that's different.  I would certainly be happy to see any of them in other works, but I wouldn't abandon my family for a weekend and spend $1200 on a pilgrimmage to an unknown place for the sole purpose of seeing them. 

At one point, towards the end of Act I, Borkman and his former lover, Ella (his wife's sister) were having a heated exchange.  All of a sudden Alan, who was completely immersed in his role, somehow managed to spot that something wasn't right in the audience.   So he immediately said, "I think we'd better stop.  Someone is ill."  He and Lindsey walked off stage, to the confused whispers of the crowd.   Within moments, paramedics arrived to tend to a guy in one of the front rows, who had passed out or something.  Once they had left, Alan and Lindsey came right back and started from the top of where they left off.   I was impressed at how smoothly he handled it, but not surprised at all.

The ambulance was still outside during intermission, and two men were consoling each other in a way that suggested their companion wasn't doing too well.   I keep thinking about them, and hope they get a chance to see the play again, from good seats, once he's feeling better.  I mean, how much does that suck?  A lot.

By the way, we are finally in the air now.  It took forever for everyone to get their bums parked in their seats, and then we needed to be de-iced.  Ah, the sweet smell of de-icing fluid!

In Act II some of the action took place outside in a snowstorm.  That was really pretty.  They blew "snow" all around from both sides, and it sparkled and swirled, lit against the black background.  Borkman, dressed all in black, stood to rest against a pillar at the right side of the stage, and the lighting on him made his hair look just like the snow.  That's another mental image that stays with me very clearly. 

At the very end, an "icy hand of iron" gripped Borkman's heart, and he laid still on the stage in a crumpled heap.  When I read that part of the play, I could only imagine it being played in a melodramatic way, but Alan really pulled it off.  As he laid there for the rest of the scene, I couldn't help but wonder what he must be experiencing, lying face down on the cool, smooth stage, with little bits of fake snow everywhere, and the vibrations of everything going on around him.  He later said, "It's Beckett all over again", referring to Samuel Beckett work he's done--I assume "Play".

When the play was over, I went outside to the stage door to see if I could meet him.  Being the weekend, it was fairly crowded with autograph seekers, but I had no plans to ask for an autograph.  A crowd of people, mostly women, waited outside for a while.  A few of the other actors came out, and stopped for a photo here and an autograph there, then got into the back of a waiting car.  Then at last Alan emerged, all smiles and looking fantastic in his shiny black jacket and a scarf.

I stood nearby and watched all the signing and picture taking.  I knew I would love to have some kind of proper interaction with him, and tell him that I flew all the way from CA to see him, and that it was totally worth it.  That kind of thing.  But he was in stage door mode, which seems to be a mixture of friendly and approachable, yet with all defenses up.  The atmosphere was pleasant, because he's got that aura about him, but the whole affair was clearly all about people getting a piece of the movie star, not about having a meaningful conversation.   He's amazingly gracious with all that celebrity stuff.  I imagine it can get a bit overwhelming, and I know that's not what being an actor is all about for him.   

I understand that these things really depend on how many people there are, and a smaller group is much better. 

Even though I didn't speak to him, it was really nice to see him up close and just be there. So I walked the mile back to my motel, feeling happy and looking forward to seeing the play again the next day, from the sixth row.