- Published on
Mercedes Esteban
31.3.1934 - 22.9.2015
31.3.1934 - 22.9.2015
Abuela, or Beulah as she became known (due to a spelling mistake I had made as a child) is the guiding light of my adult life. The reason I am who I am is thanks to her legacy, and everything she taught me.
One of my earliest memories of Abuela is sitting by her side watching The Pajama Game and during the song "I'm not at all in love,” she suddenly joined in on the line "you're shouting.” It was the first time I realized that she had seen this movie a few times before and that she Knew Things.
Abuela took me to my first opera, Carmen. She had tickets for her birthday and wanted to take one of the granddaughters. She wanted it to be fair, so she put our names in a hat. I was lucky enough to be drawn out.
She took me to a ballet eisteddfod and told me that she "knew" I'd win because I was her granddaughter. She came to all our performances, and we laughed when we discovered she had taken a liking to the young boy band Human Nature at School’s Spectacular.
Abuela accompanied me to the wilds of Erskineville for my first big audition that led to singing in the Olympics. After the Olympics, we danced together in the Domain at the volunteer parade. I found her in the crowd after the film crew had shown her smiling, gorgeous face on the big screen.
She was with me at my first musical, A Chorus Line. A line from that show, “I used to dance around the living room” was my life. I used to dance around Abuela’s living room. Her collection of tapes, cds, and videos are the essence of my childhood. Fiddler on the Roof, Singing’ in the Rain, and The King and I are as inextricably linked to Sunday lunch as flan and bibingka.
No else made flan like Abuela. She was incredibly proud when I asked to include her flan in the international cookbook at uni. Of course, I just had to watch and make notes, but it was a big day when I was able to cook flan for her 75th birthday!
When I became a vegetarian she lamented that she never knew what to feed me. Lentejas were not lentejas without the chorizo.
Abuela was utterly devoted to Abuelo. They met some enchanted evening, and when Abuelo came to visit the next day and Abuela was up the apple tree with curlers in her hair. It was a bit of a scandal when we discovered that before Abuelo, Abuela had been eyeing an American airman. Of course, after the enchanted evening, there could never be anyone else, and there never was. Without a doubt I know they are together now, dancing in heaven. Every time I hear a thunder storm, I’ll know they’ve gone out bowling with the other angels.
A few weeks ago I saw The King and I at the Lincoln Center in New York. It occurred to me that the reason I was even in New York, the reason I love musicals, opera, and music, is because of my Abuela.
It was a privilege to grow up with such a wonderful grandmother. It was a privilege to be with her in her final moments.
Abuela, thank you for everything I know. I love you.
One of my earliest memories of Abuela is sitting by her side watching The Pajama Game and during the song "I'm not at all in love,” she suddenly joined in on the line "you're shouting.” It was the first time I realized that she had seen this movie a few times before and that she Knew Things.
Abuela took me to my first opera, Carmen. She had tickets for her birthday and wanted to take one of the granddaughters. She wanted it to be fair, so she put our names in a hat. I was lucky enough to be drawn out.
She took me to a ballet eisteddfod and told me that she "knew" I'd win because I was her granddaughter. She came to all our performances, and we laughed when we discovered she had taken a liking to the young boy band Human Nature at School’s Spectacular.
Abuela accompanied me to the wilds of Erskineville for my first big audition that led to singing in the Olympics. After the Olympics, we danced together in the Domain at the volunteer parade. I found her in the crowd after the film crew had shown her smiling, gorgeous face on the big screen.
She was with me at my first musical, A Chorus Line. A line from that show, “I used to dance around the living room” was my life. I used to dance around Abuela’s living room. Her collection of tapes, cds, and videos are the essence of my childhood. Fiddler on the Roof, Singing’ in the Rain, and The King and I are as inextricably linked to Sunday lunch as flan and bibingka.
No else made flan like Abuela. She was incredibly proud when I asked to include her flan in the international cookbook at uni. Of course, I just had to watch and make notes, but it was a big day when I was able to cook flan for her 75th birthday!
When I became a vegetarian she lamented that she never knew what to feed me. Lentejas were not lentejas without the chorizo.
Abuela was utterly devoted to Abuelo. They met some enchanted evening, and when Abuelo came to visit the next day and Abuela was up the apple tree with curlers in her hair. It was a bit of a scandal when we discovered that before Abuelo, Abuela had been eyeing an American airman. Of course, after the enchanted evening, there could never be anyone else, and there never was. Without a doubt I know they are together now, dancing in heaven. Every time I hear a thunder storm, I’ll know they’ve gone out bowling with the other angels.
A few weeks ago I saw The King and I at the Lincoln Center in New York. It occurred to me that the reason I was even in New York, the reason I love musicals, opera, and music, is because of my Abuela.
It was a privilege to grow up with such a wonderful grandmother. It was a privilege to be with her in her final moments.
Abuela, thank you for everything I know. I love you.
- Published on
Two different kinds of posts were prominent on Facebook on Wednesday (August 26):
In a world where women are definitely still not equal with men (representation in media, government, or pay, to name just a few examples; see TIME for a great infographic), the prominence of celebrating canines over half the human race bothered me immensely.
Curious about the origins of both days, I did a little research.
National Women's Equality Day became such after a Joint Resolution was passed by Congress in 1971. The date was chosen to celebrate the day in 1920 when women in the United States of America finally won the right to vote (for interest and comparison, New Zealand was the first nation to grant full suffrage in 1893, Australian women followed in 1902 (though Aboriginal women were excluded and not granted the right to vote until 1967), and as recently as this week, women in Saudi Arabia were finally given the vote. The Inter-Parliamentary Union has an interesting chronology of the history of women's suffrage).
National Dog Day was created much later, in 2004, to bring public awareness about the number of dogs needing to be rescued each year.
- Posts celebrating dogs in honor of National Dog Day, and
- Posts asking people to remember that, although dogs are awesome, it was also National Women's Equality Day
In a world where women are definitely still not equal with men (representation in media, government, or pay, to name just a few examples; see TIME for a great infographic), the prominence of celebrating canines over half the human race bothered me immensely.
Curious about the origins of both days, I did a little research.
National Women's Equality Day became such after a Joint Resolution was passed by Congress in 1971. The date was chosen to celebrate the day in 1920 when women in the United States of America finally won the right to vote (for interest and comparison, New Zealand was the first nation to grant full suffrage in 1893, Australian women followed in 1902 (though Aboriginal women were excluded and not granted the right to vote until 1967), and as recently as this week, women in Saudi Arabia were finally given the vote. The Inter-Parliamentary Union has an interesting chronology of the history of women's suffrage).
National Dog Day was created much later, in 2004, to bring public awareness about the number of dogs needing to be rescued each year.
According to Parade Magazine, over half a million tweets were sent celebrating #NationalDogDay. A Google search for news articles on National Dog Day returned over 26 million results. The same search for National Women's Equality Day returned 1.9 million results.
Google search for news articles on National Dog Day
The same search for National Women's Equality Day
This disparity is disturbing. Why did the organizer's of National Dog Day choose this day as their day of celebration? My guess is they simply didn't know about the conflict. As well intentioned as the organizers of the various National Women's Equality Day events and publicity were, much of it, like this National Women's History Project brochure, seems out of touch and irrelevant in today's social media saturated world.
The best publicity for National Women's Equality Day came from Broadway. Led by Tony Award winning Fun Home (the first Broadway musical with an all-female writing team to win a Tony Award for Best Original Score), Broadway stars posted pictures of themselves imitating Rosie the Riveter in support of the Equal Rights Amendment (a constitutional amendment expressly prohibiting discrimination against women and girls on the basis of gender).
It would be wonderful to see National Women's Equality Day get the recognition it deserves, and for women to be treated equally in all spheres of life.
I was very pleased to see the following on the National Dog Day website -
It would be wonderful to see National Women's Equality Day get the recognition it deserves, and for women to be treated equally in all spheres of life.
I was very pleased to see the following on the National Dog Day website -
Although we have been celebrating National Dog Day on August 26th for the last 11 years, this year it was brought to our attention that National Dog Day was drawing focus away from Women's Equality Day and thus, out of respect for this extremely important day of recognition and observation for women's rights everywhere, we are happy to permanently change the date of our celebration to August 31st, to end the Dogs Days of Summer with a grand celebration.
Hopefully next year, National Women's Equality Day will be more prominent, and not because of its relation to dogs. I hope that by 2020, the 100th anniversary of American women winning the right to vote, we will live in a world where women are more equally represented in the media, in government, and receive equal pay for equal work.
In the meantime, we have a lot of work to do.
In the meantime, we have a lot of work to do.
- Published on
Dear Editors, Publishers, Media at Large,
As a survivor of acute myeloid leukemia, I am begging you: PLEASE STOP PUBLISHING ANYTHING TO DO WITH BELLE GIBSON. I don't need to hear from her mother. I don't need to hear from her neighbours. I don't need to hear from her primary school teacher. I definitely don't need to hear from Belle herself. I don't care what happened to her app, her book, or her empire. I don't even want/need to know if she has finally been charged or even trialled for her crimes.
Before cancer, I was a fit and healthy young woman. I was a vegetarian. I ate mostly organic food. I exercised. I meditated. I chose to be positive. I never smoked. I rarely drank. And I still got cancer.
After cancer, I have struggled with chemo, radiation, hair loss, nail loss, weight loss, energy loss, serious depression, anger, and a whole myriad of side effects that come from treatment and the god awful hell that is living with a terrible illness. I am not able to work. I am fortunate to have had access to wonderful health care, and the support of friends and family who have supported me, and my husband, through this terrible nightmare.
Every time you publish a story about Belle Gibson, and how she used a terrible disease to prey on people's trust and steal money, you are punishing people who actually have to live with cancer. You are destroying people's trust. You are making it harder for those of us who rely on the generosity and kindness of others to make it through.
Belle Gibson clearly needs help. She needs therapy with experienced professionals who can help her deal with her issues. She does not need to be in the public eye. Cancer survivors, their carers, and people who have lost loved ones to cancer do not need to read about her, see her, or be subjected to her continual lies. We have enough to deal with without being reminded that there are people out there using our illness for profit.
Please stop publishing stories about Belle Gibson. Instead, publish stories about practical ways to help people with cancer (HuffPost had a great one), encourage blood/platelet donation (US, Australia, UK), or tell people how they can donate hair (US, Australia, UK). If you want the personal angle, tell us stories of hope, survival, and the true and factual stories of people living with cancer. But no more Belle. We've had enough.
Sincerely,
An Actual Cancer Survivor
As a survivor of acute myeloid leukemia, I am begging you: PLEASE STOP PUBLISHING ANYTHING TO DO WITH BELLE GIBSON. I don't need to hear from her mother. I don't need to hear from her neighbours. I don't need to hear from her primary school teacher. I definitely don't need to hear from Belle herself. I don't care what happened to her app, her book, or her empire. I don't even want/need to know if she has finally been charged or even trialled for her crimes.
Before cancer, I was a fit and healthy young woman. I was a vegetarian. I ate mostly organic food. I exercised. I meditated. I chose to be positive. I never smoked. I rarely drank. And I still got cancer.
After cancer, I have struggled with chemo, radiation, hair loss, nail loss, weight loss, energy loss, serious depression, anger, and a whole myriad of side effects that come from treatment and the god awful hell that is living with a terrible illness. I am not able to work. I am fortunate to have had access to wonderful health care, and the support of friends and family who have supported me, and my husband, through this terrible nightmare.
Every time you publish a story about Belle Gibson, and how she used a terrible disease to prey on people's trust and steal money, you are punishing people who actually have to live with cancer. You are destroying people's trust. You are making it harder for those of us who rely on the generosity and kindness of others to make it through.
Belle Gibson clearly needs help. She needs therapy with experienced professionals who can help her deal with her issues. She does not need to be in the public eye. Cancer survivors, their carers, and people who have lost loved ones to cancer do not need to read about her, see her, or be subjected to her continual lies. We have enough to deal with without being reminded that there are people out there using our illness for profit.
Please stop publishing stories about Belle Gibson. Instead, publish stories about practical ways to help people with cancer (HuffPost had a great one), encourage blood/platelet donation (US, Australia, UK), or tell people how they can donate hair (US, Australia, UK). If you want the personal angle, tell us stories of hope, survival, and the true and factual stories of people living with cancer. But no more Belle. We've had enough.
Sincerely,
An Actual Cancer Survivor
- Published on
We are such stuff
As dreams are made on
I had the weirdest dream
I had finally moved to New York
But I was in Connecticut with
Two bug bites on my legs that had
Turned into huge infections
I was diagnosed with cancer
Acute Myeloid Leukemia
Patti LuPone sent me an email
They filled my body with chemo drugs and
All my hair fell out
My legs looked like something out of an alien movie
They stood me in a large room, strapped me to a frame
And radiated my entire body
They wiped out my immune system
Took some of my sister’s cells
And injected them into me
I wasn’t allowed to go to the theatre
Wasn’t allowed to eat take out
All my energy was gone
I felt nauseous
I felt tired
I threw up
I felt depressed
I felt angry
I felt like giving up
Every week they tested my blood
They injected a needle into the back of my hip and drew out the marrow
Be a patient patient.
We never know what’s next
We could fall in love
We could meet our idols
We could get cancer
How do we exist on the precipice between joy and despair?
We live on a rock covered in water
Just so far from a flaming ball of gas
Surrounded by other rocks
That expands to infinity and…
The miracle is that after a several millennia
We still don’t really know what it’s all about
We have some theories
But we don’t really know
What is this dream?
Months passed
No more cancer
Remission
Healing slowly
And then it was a year later
I am living in New York
My hair is back, curly
My strength is returning
I don’t feel nauseous
I do often feel tired
I often feel depressed
I often feel angry
I still sometimes feel like giving up
I try to balance on the precipice between joy and despair
I am married to the most wonderful person
He is patient and kind and loving
And through him I have a wonderful, patient, kind, and loving family
Day by day I’m feeling better
I am allowed to go to the theatre again
I met Patti LuPone in person
She told me to be well
Alright, Patti. If you say so…
This past twelve months
Has been a rollercoaster
It has been hell
It has bought me closer to my American family
It has made me stronger.
It has made me weaker.
It has made me
Different.
Thursday is the anniversary of being told I had cancer.
Yesterday I wore shorts in public for the first time since diagnosis
It was just too bloody hot
I’ve become proud of my scars
Those damn things saved my life
This whole dream
Is difficult to fathom
But such is the stuff of life
And while I am here
I will endeavor to remain
Awake.
I had finally moved to New York
But I was in Connecticut with
Two bug bites on my legs that had
Turned into huge infections
I was diagnosed with cancer
Acute Myeloid Leukemia
Patti LuPone sent me an email
They filled my body with chemo drugs and
All my hair fell out
My legs looked like something out of an alien movie
They stood me in a large room, strapped me to a frame
And radiated my entire body
They wiped out my immune system
Took some of my sister’s cells
And injected them into me
I wasn’t allowed to go to the theatre
Wasn’t allowed to eat take out
All my energy was gone
I felt nauseous
I felt tired
I threw up
I felt depressed
I felt angry
I felt like giving up
Every week they tested my blood
They injected a needle into the back of my hip and drew out the marrow
Be a patient patient.
We never know what’s next
We could fall in love
We could meet our idols
We could get cancer
How do we exist on the precipice between joy and despair?
We live on a rock covered in water
Just so far from a flaming ball of gas
Surrounded by other rocks
That expands to infinity and…
The miracle is that after a several millennia
We still don’t really know what it’s all about
We have some theories
But we don’t really know
What is this dream?
Months passed
No more cancer
Remission
Healing slowly
And then it was a year later
I am living in New York
My hair is back, curly
My strength is returning
I don’t feel nauseous
I do often feel tired
I often feel depressed
I often feel angry
I still sometimes feel like giving up
I try to balance on the precipice between joy and despair
I am married to the most wonderful person
He is patient and kind and loving
And through him I have a wonderful, patient, kind, and loving family
Day by day I’m feeling better
I am allowed to go to the theatre again
I met Patti LuPone in person
She told me to be well
Alright, Patti. If you say so…
This past twelve months
Has been a rollercoaster
It has been hell
It has bought me closer to my American family
It has made me stronger.
It has made me weaker.
It has made me
Different.
Thursday is the anniversary of being told I had cancer.
Yesterday I wore shorts in public for the first time since diagnosis
It was just too bloody hot
I’ve become proud of my scars
Those damn things saved my life
This whole dream
Is difficult to fathom
But such is the stuff of life
And while I am here
I will endeavor to remain
Awake.
- Published on
After a year of not being able to go to theatre, I've seen 9 shows in the past month. It makes my heart Very Happy to finally feel like I actually live in the theatre capital of the world! Below is a summary of what I've seen so far.
Ever After
The musical of one of my all time favorite movies with a score and book by two of my favorite composers, Marcy Heisler and Zina Goldrich. My first time at the Paper Mill Playhouse in New Jersey, and my first show since stupid effing cancer, did not disappoint.
I have no doubt this show will go to Broadway, where I hope it will be a huge hit. I’m keeping my fingers and toes crossed for a cast recording.
You can read more here.
I have no doubt this show will go to Broadway, where I hope it will be a huge hit. I’m keeping my fingers and toes crossed for a cast recording.
You can read more here.
On the Town
(clockwise) On the Town with Nina, Alyssa Umphress, and Jackie Hoffman
A musical about three sailors on leave for one day in NYC. With a sumptuous score by Bernstein and endearing book and lyrics by Comden and Green, On the Town is a bona fide classic.
The number one reason to see this show: the dancing!!! Oh, the glorious, wonderful, beautiful dancing!!! I’m itching to see American in Paris now, because if the dancing/choreography is better in that (based on Tony Award for Best Choreography) I think I will die and go to heaven.
The entire ensemble were just gorgeous. The ballet in the second act was like watching an MGM musical performed live. I cried several times it was so damn beautiful.
Everything about this show is gorgeous. The lighting, the costumes, the orchestrations, the singing. I loved it. Definitely want to see it again.
The number one reason to see this show: the dancing!!! Oh, the glorious, wonderful, beautiful dancing!!! I’m itching to see American in Paris now, because if the dancing/choreography is better in that (based on Tony Award for Best Choreography) I think I will die and go to heaven.
The entire ensemble were just gorgeous. The ballet in the second act was like watching an MGM musical performed live. I cried several times it was so damn beautiful.
Everything about this show is gorgeous. The lighting, the costumes, the orchestrations, the singing. I loved it. Definitely want to see it again.
Kinky Boots
Kinky Boots with Annie, Adinah Alexander and Billy Porter
I had been anxious about seeing Kinky Boots for the stupid reason that it “stole” the Tony for Best Musical from Matilda. There is no way Cyndi Lauper deserved Best Original Score over Tim Minchin (compare the lyrics “Let me hear you say “yeah”/Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!” to “My mummy says I'm a miracle/ One look at my face, and it's plain to see./ Ever since the day doc chopped the umbilical cord,/It's been clear there's no peer for a miracle like me!”) but now that I've seen the show, I understand why Kinky Boots won the big coveted prize.
Set in England, Kinky Boots is based on the true story of a man who inherits a shoe factory and revives its failing fortunes by manufacturing heels for men. It's a great story about facing adversity, embracing who we are, and ultimately finding acceptance. This production is fun and genuinely touching, and it was wonderful to see Billy Porter playing his Tony Award winning role.
After the show, my friend Annie and I were lucky enough to be treated to a backstage tour with original cast member Adinah Alexander. It was fun to walk on the stage, and head behind the scenes to see all the gorgeous costumes up close!
Set in England, Kinky Boots is based on the true story of a man who inherits a shoe factory and revives its failing fortunes by manufacturing heels for men. It's a great story about facing adversity, embracing who we are, and ultimately finding acceptance. This production is fun and genuinely touching, and it was wonderful to see Billy Porter playing his Tony Award winning role.
After the show, my friend Annie and I were lucky enough to be treated to a backstage tour with original cast member Adinah Alexander. It was fun to walk on the stage, and head behind the scenes to see all the gorgeous costumes up close!
Into the Woods: Original Cast Reunion
A special event at BAM featuring the original Broadway cast of Into the Woods, along with composer Stephen Sondheim and book writer James Lapine. Mo Rocca interviewed everyone in light-hearted conversational manner, and the cast sang their signature songs. It was all done for the fans, and it was glorious. The highlight for me was absolutely Bernadette Peters. It was quite an experience to see a Broadway legend in action, and I swear she has not aged a single bit. How does she do it?!
I don’t think this kind of event would have been possible if the original production hadn’t been filmed and made available on VHS/DVD. I was three-years-old and living in Sydney when Into the Woods premiered on Broadway. It closed when I was five, a full nineteen years before I even went to New York for the first time. The filmed production gave me access to the show.
Filmed live theatre is the future (as a complement to live theatre, not a replacement), and this event was proof of its power of giving ephemeral shows a much longer lifespan and wider audience. Dear producers: please stop being afraid of filming of your shows, and make them available. The end.
You can read a more detailed description here.
I don’t think this kind of event would have been possible if the original production hadn’t been filmed and made available on VHS/DVD. I was three-years-old and living in Sydney when Into the Woods premiered on Broadway. It closed when I was five, a full nineteen years before I even went to New York for the first time. The filmed production gave me access to the show.
Filmed live theatre is the future (as a complement to live theatre, not a replacement), and this event was proof of its power of giving ephemeral shows a much longer lifespan and wider audience. Dear producers: please stop being afraid of filming of your shows, and make them available. The end.
You can read a more detailed description here.
Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder
It’s exciting to see an original musical not based on a book or movie, and Gentleman’s Guide did not disappoint. A musical about what you can get away with by being a straight white male in nineteenth century England, the show is filled with beautiful costumes, incredible set changes, and plenty of tongue-in-cheek humor. Steven Lutvak’s delightful score is reminiscent of Gilbert and Sullivan, and Jonathan Tunick’s orchestrations are sumptuous — I particularly loved the references to Sweeney Todd. The opportunity to see Scarlett Strallen in action again (I saw her as Cassie in A Chorus Line in London) was a real treat.
A New Brain
A short engagement at New York City Center as part of the Encores! program, A New Brain is a one act semi-autobiographical musical about composer William Finn’s encounter with AVM (a brain clot). Although I have listened to the recording countless times since I first encountered the show at uni, I have never actually seen a production.
Starring Jonathan Groff (Spring Awakening, Glee, Frozen) and Ana Gasteyer (The Good Wife, Wicked, SNL), I knew this was going to be a special event, and it did not disappoint. The production was wonderful, with a top notch ensemble, clever staging, and gorgeous rich vocal arrangements by Jason Robert Brown.
The only downside? The tween-age kids sitting two rows down from me who spent the entire show playing on their phones. One kid even had headphones in. I was in the middle of my row and couldn’t get up to say something to the (absent) ushers. It was incredibly distracting. I complained afterwards, but the house manager just shrugged.
I’m all for kids going to the theatre. I believe it’s incredibly important. I felt sorry for the kids — they were bored, and whoever was in charge had clearly made the wrong choice in choosing the show. But grown-ups should be teaching their kids about what behavior is appropriate in the theatre. My memory of Ana Gasteyer singing “Music Still Plays On” should not be intertwined with Candy Crush.
Starring Jonathan Groff (Spring Awakening, Glee, Frozen) and Ana Gasteyer (The Good Wife, Wicked, SNL), I knew this was going to be a special event, and it did not disappoint. The production was wonderful, with a top notch ensemble, clever staging, and gorgeous rich vocal arrangements by Jason Robert Brown.
The only downside? The tween-age kids sitting two rows down from me who spent the entire show playing on their phones. One kid even had headphones in. I was in the middle of my row and couldn’t get up to say something to the (absent) ushers. It was incredibly distracting. I complained afterwards, but the house manager just shrugged.
I’m all for kids going to the theatre. I believe it’s incredibly important. I felt sorry for the kids — they were bored, and whoever was in charge had clearly made the wrong choice in choosing the show. But grown-ups should be teaching their kids about what behavior is appropriate in the theatre. My memory of Ana Gasteyer singing “Music Still Plays On” should not be intertwined with Candy Crush.
Voice for the Voiceless
Seth Rudetsky is a Broadway music director, pianist, author, and radio host. I am a huge fan of his "deconstructions" and know that any event that Seth is a part of is going to have huge star power and plenty of sassy belting.
Voice for the Voiceless was a special one-night-only benefit to raise funds and awareness for You Gotta Believe. Seth and his husband James recently completed training to be foster parents, and learnt that thousands of young adults age out of the foster care system without being adopted. These young adults face substantially higher rates of homelessness, health issues, and unemployment and one of the few resources in place to help them, You Gotta Believe, has just had the bulk of its funding cut.
Organized in a mere six weeks, Seth and James rallied some of Broadway and televisions biggest stars to the cause — Tina Fey, Jane Krakowski, Tituss Burgess, Megan Hilty, Darren Criss, and Eden Espinoza to name just a few. Seth hosted, conducted, and played keys, all while serving up his usual fast paced and witty repartee. The performances, a diverse range of Broadway and pop songs, were wonderful, and the 14 piece band was surprisingly tight.
The highlight of the evening though, were the stories of young adults who had found their "forever homes" thanks to You Gotta Believe. Even more touching were the stories of young adults who were yet to be adopted. The event raised over $500,000. Read more here.
Voice for the Voiceless was a special one-night-only benefit to raise funds and awareness for You Gotta Believe. Seth and his husband James recently completed training to be foster parents, and learnt that thousands of young adults age out of the foster care system without being adopted. These young adults face substantially higher rates of homelessness, health issues, and unemployment and one of the few resources in place to help them, You Gotta Believe, has just had the bulk of its funding cut.
Organized in a mere six weeks, Seth and James rallied some of Broadway and televisions biggest stars to the cause — Tina Fey, Jane Krakowski, Tituss Burgess, Megan Hilty, Darren Criss, and Eden Espinoza to name just a few. Seth hosted, conducted, and played keys, all while serving up his usual fast paced and witty repartee. The performances, a diverse range of Broadway and pop songs, were wonderful, and the 14 piece band was surprisingly tight.
The highlight of the evening though, were the stories of young adults who had found their "forever homes" thanks to You Gotta Believe. Even more touching were the stories of young adults who were yet to be adopted. The event raised over $500,000. Read more here.
Hand to God
One of my Buck’s Rock buddies kept posting about how amazing this show was, until she wrote “If any of you poor jerks haven't seen Hand to God yet, just go do it. Find a way. Because you don't know how badly you need this play in your life until you see it.” With a recommendation like that, I felt obligated.
A play about a family in Texas and their encounter with the devil, Hand to God is clever, funny, and incredibly poignant. The story is sad, touching, and played with incredible humor by a talented cast. Steven Boyer is a stand-out, and his puppet skills are awesome to behold. Beowulf Boritt’s scenic design is brilliant, and one of those clever sets that has the ability to transform right before your eyes.
A play about a family in Texas and their encounter with the devil, Hand to God is clever, funny, and incredibly poignant. The story is sad, touching, and played with incredible humor by a talented cast. Steven Boyer is a stand-out, and his puppet skills are awesome to behold. Beowulf Boritt’s scenic design is brilliant, and one of those clever sets that has the ability to transform right before your eyes.
On the 20th Century
A musical about a failed producer trying to woo back his starlet, and former love, whilst traveling aboard the 20th Century train between Chicago and New York. The Roundabout’s production is a great star vehicle for Kristin Chenoweth, and Larry Hochman’s orchestrations and vocal arrangements are delicious, but this is not Coleman and Comden and Green’s best musical.
Unlike On the Town, which has a lovely heart, there is no substance to On the 20th Century. The overture is gorgeous, and the opening number featuring four tapping porters is thrilling, but it all goes downhill from there. The pacing is strange, the ensemble aren’t utilized enough, and act one ends without any sort of climax. The best numbers are the flashbacks not set on the train, but, unfortunately, we spend three-quarters of the show aboard the locomotive.
Worth it to see Kristin Chenoweth be Kristin Chenoweth.
Unlike On the Town, which has a lovely heart, there is no substance to On the 20th Century. The overture is gorgeous, and the opening number featuring four tapping porters is thrilling, but it all goes downhill from there. The pacing is strange, the ensemble aren’t utilized enough, and act one ends without any sort of climax. The best numbers are the flashbacks not set on the train, but, unfortunately, we spend three-quarters of the show aboard the locomotive.
Worth it to see Kristin Chenoweth be Kristin Chenoweth.
Coming Attractions
10 out of 12 (a play about tech rehearsal. A fellow Buck’s Rocker worked on it, I can’t wait)
Shows for Days (starring Patti LuPone. I don’t care what it’s about. Patti could be reading a phone book and I would still love it. It’s Patti. She can do anything.)
Hedwig and the Angry Inch (starring Taye Diggs. Be still my beating teenage heart.)
The King and I (Kelli O’Hara singing Rogers and Hammerstein!)
Shows for Days (starring Patti LuPone. I don’t care what it’s about. Patti could be reading a phone book and I would still love it. It’s Patti. She can do anything.)
Hedwig and the Angry Inch (starring Taye Diggs. Be still my beating teenage heart.)
The King and I (Kelli O’Hara singing Rogers and Hammerstein!)
- Published on
Image by Pesare (click image for link)
This morning I read an article covering an Australian woman who lied about having cancer and built an empire around it. She was caught, went off the radar for a bit, and is now being interviewed on television with the story “she lost everything.” I won’t link it, because I refuse to give That Woman clicks or further attention. I feel sorry for this person -- she clearly needs help, not television interviews.
My husband is heading off to summer camp today. Camp is my “home,” my happy place. It’s the place where I met and fell in love with Aaron. It’s the place where some of my closest friends are. It’s the place where I get to spend 8 weeks surrounded by some of the most amazing people who are spending their summer vacations making theatre and art.
I can’t go because of: Stupid. Effing. Cancer. My fragile immune system can’t yet handle the risk of bugs (creepy crawly, stinging, or human-infecting), buffet food, or being in close proximity to children. There’s something ironic in the fact that I managed to make it to the lovely woods of Connecticut for six years from far flung locations like Sydney, but now that I live less than two hours away, I can’t go. It’s heartbreaking.
On days like these, I feel like cancer has taken everything away from me. My old life was whisked away with the words, “You have acute myeloid leukemia,” and replaced with bone marrow biopsies, chemo, radiation, transplants, blood work, and the continual fear of relapse. Compared to the healthy, vibrant, energetic person I was, I have no energy. I’ve lost an entire octave in my singing voice. I can’t run. I have to be careful of where I eat. I can’t work. My hormones are a mess. I’m 30 and in menopause, but I keep getting what my doctor euphemistically calls “breakthrough bleeding”. If cramps, bloating, headaches, and bleeding for 3-5 days isn’t a period I don’t know what is. And it happens twice a month. I have large marks on my legs from the original infection that first landed me in hospital.
That Woman claims she has lost everything. And yes, there are days, like today, where I feel like I have lost everything. However, if you’re lucky enough to survive, there’s a weird paradox in having cancer. It gives you a whole new life. Sure, it’s different than before, and you miss the old days when you didn’t have a god awful unpredictable illness whose treatment makes you wish you were dead. Personally speaking, cancer has helped me to re-discover who I am. I have re-kindled my passions. I have learnt how utterly loved, and cared for, I am.
I am incredibly fortunate. I have health insurance. I have access to some of the best medical care in the world. I have a wonderful, loving, patient, kind, and funny, person to share my life with. I have family and friends who care for me. I live in a gorgeous sun-filled apartment in the city of my dreams. I have access to fresh food and clean water. I have everything in life I could possibly need.
I can’t go to camp today. It hurts. I’ll cry. I’ll feel that life is incredibly unfair and F.U.Cancer and your impact on my life. But I’m alive. And with a little luck and continued remission, I’ll be back next year. I haven’t lost everything. Life has just shifted, and look at what I’ve gained.
My husband is heading off to summer camp today. Camp is my “home,” my happy place. It’s the place where I met and fell in love with Aaron. It’s the place where some of my closest friends are. It’s the place where I get to spend 8 weeks surrounded by some of the most amazing people who are spending their summer vacations making theatre and art.
I can’t go because of: Stupid. Effing. Cancer. My fragile immune system can’t yet handle the risk of bugs (creepy crawly, stinging, or human-infecting), buffet food, or being in close proximity to children. There’s something ironic in the fact that I managed to make it to the lovely woods of Connecticut for six years from far flung locations like Sydney, but now that I live less than two hours away, I can’t go. It’s heartbreaking.
On days like these, I feel like cancer has taken everything away from me. My old life was whisked away with the words, “You have acute myeloid leukemia,” and replaced with bone marrow biopsies, chemo, radiation, transplants, blood work, and the continual fear of relapse. Compared to the healthy, vibrant, energetic person I was, I have no energy. I’ve lost an entire octave in my singing voice. I can’t run. I have to be careful of where I eat. I can’t work. My hormones are a mess. I’m 30 and in menopause, but I keep getting what my doctor euphemistically calls “breakthrough bleeding”. If cramps, bloating, headaches, and bleeding for 3-5 days isn’t a period I don’t know what is. And it happens twice a month. I have large marks on my legs from the original infection that first landed me in hospital.
That Woman claims she has lost everything. And yes, there are days, like today, where I feel like I have lost everything. However, if you’re lucky enough to survive, there’s a weird paradox in having cancer. It gives you a whole new life. Sure, it’s different than before, and you miss the old days when you didn’t have a god awful unpredictable illness whose treatment makes you wish you were dead. Personally speaking, cancer has helped me to re-discover who I am. I have re-kindled my passions. I have learnt how utterly loved, and cared for, I am.
I am incredibly fortunate. I have health insurance. I have access to some of the best medical care in the world. I have a wonderful, loving, patient, kind, and funny, person to share my life with. I have family and friends who care for me. I live in a gorgeous sun-filled apartment in the city of my dreams. I have access to fresh food and clean water. I have everything in life I could possibly need.
I can’t go to camp today. It hurts. I’ll cry. I’ll feel that life is incredibly unfair and F.U.Cancer and your impact on my life. But I’m alive. And with a little luck and continued remission, I’ll be back next year. I haven’t lost everything. Life has just shifted, and look at what I’ve gained.
- Published on
Blackout
A voice -
Once upon a time…
The crowd erupts into
Rapturous applause
Lights up
The host, Mo Rocca, walks onto the stage
He says he is
Excited
Well, excited and scared
The full house
Responds with
Appreciative laughter
Sondheim and Lapine are welcomed to the stage
The audience is on their feet
Cheering with
An ecstatic roar
Conversational banter
The who, what, why, and how
Into the Woods came to be
The Baker and his Wife
Chip Zien and Joanna Gleason
Are like a married couple
Charming and funny
They have a genuine affection for each other
How many times have I heard their voices?
Seen their images on my screen?
And there they are on stage
Singing
“No More” and “It Takes Two”
Kim Crosby appears
“On the Steps of the Palace”
Still as bright and clear as 26 years ago
The prince arrives,
Robert Westenberg
Cinderella’s real-life love
“Hello Little Girl”
Wonderfully humorous
Danielle Ferland
Little Red Riding Hood
All grown up and wearing a red dress
“I Know Things Now”
Ben Wright
Also grown, now a father of four
Nails “Giants in the Sky”
We hear behind the scenes stories
And audition anecdotes
Joanna Gleason talks of walking into the room
She hadn’t been on Broadway in 10 years
She had one song with her, a ballad
There was Lapine. And there was “Zeus.”
They asked if she had an uptempo number
She offered to sing the ballad faster.
Act 1 closes with
“Any Moment” and
“Moment in the Woods”
Mo Rocca warns us it will all fall apart in the second act
Laughter. Lights up.
The audience chatters loudly.
Act 2 opens with
Bernadette Peters
She has not aged a single bit
Perhaps she really did drink a magic potion
But she hasn’t lost her powers
The rap, complete with witch’s prosthetic nose, is
Perfect
Through
“Stay With Me”
We are captivated
And not going anywhere
You can hear a pin drop
But for the piano and
Bernadette’s voice
She is utterly, utterly divine
More banter
Sondheim is (it seems almost redundant to say it, because, OBVIOUSLY he is)
Incredibly articulate
And funny
The camaraderie of the cast
Warmth and love
Appreciation that they were a part of this magical creation
I wonder if this all would have been possible if they had never filmed the original production?
Listen up musical producers! Film your shows and give them a life time well beyond the original run!
“Your Fault/Last Midnight”
Bernadette’s final note is astonishing
“Children Will Listen”
I know I’m not the only one crying
The finale.
Another standing ovation
What an extraordinary event
So special to see these wonderful people gathered
In celebration of art
And music
And story-telling
The joy of nostalgia
The wonder of my childhood being accessible
And on my doorstep
I love being in New York
And living a life
Made of these moments.
A voice -
Once upon a time…
The crowd erupts into
Rapturous applause
Lights up
The host, Mo Rocca, walks onto the stage
He says he is
Excited
Well, excited and scared
The full house
Responds with
Appreciative laughter
Sondheim and Lapine are welcomed to the stage
The audience is on their feet
Cheering with
An ecstatic roar
Conversational banter
The who, what, why, and how
Into the Woods came to be
The Baker and his Wife
Chip Zien and Joanna Gleason
Are like a married couple
Charming and funny
They have a genuine affection for each other
How many times have I heard their voices?
Seen their images on my screen?
And there they are on stage
Singing
“No More” and “It Takes Two”
Kim Crosby appears
“On the Steps of the Palace”
Still as bright and clear as 26 years ago
The prince arrives,
Robert Westenberg
Cinderella’s real-life love
“Hello Little Girl”
Wonderfully humorous
Danielle Ferland
Little Red Riding Hood
All grown up and wearing a red dress
“I Know Things Now”
Ben Wright
Also grown, now a father of four
Nails “Giants in the Sky”
We hear behind the scenes stories
And audition anecdotes
Joanna Gleason talks of walking into the room
She hadn’t been on Broadway in 10 years
She had one song with her, a ballad
There was Lapine. And there was “Zeus.”
They asked if she had an uptempo number
She offered to sing the ballad faster.
Act 1 closes with
“Any Moment” and
“Moment in the Woods”
Mo Rocca warns us it will all fall apart in the second act
Laughter. Lights up.
The audience chatters loudly.
Act 2 opens with
Bernadette Peters
She has not aged a single bit
Perhaps she really did drink a magic potion
But she hasn’t lost her powers
The rap, complete with witch’s prosthetic nose, is
Perfect
Through
“Stay With Me”
We are captivated
And not going anywhere
You can hear a pin drop
But for the piano and
Bernadette’s voice
She is utterly, utterly divine
More banter
Sondheim is (it seems almost redundant to say it, because, OBVIOUSLY he is)
Incredibly articulate
And funny
The camaraderie of the cast
Warmth and love
Appreciation that they were a part of this magical creation
I wonder if this all would have been possible if they had never filmed the original production?
Listen up musical producers! Film your shows and give them a life time well beyond the original run!
“Your Fault/Last Midnight”
Bernadette’s final note is astonishing
“Children Will Listen”
I know I’m not the only one crying
The finale.
Another standing ovation
What an extraordinary event
So special to see these wonderful people gathered
In celebration of art
And music
And story-telling
The joy of nostalgia
The wonder of my childhood being accessible
And on my doorstep
I love being in New York
And living a life
Made of these moments.
- Published on
It may surprise people to know that one of my favorite movies of all time is not a musical. In fact, it doesn’t even have any singing. Or dancing. It’s about a trained swordsman Cinderella who reads, rescues her prince, saves herself from an evil overlord, and has Angelica Houston as her stepmother. The 1998 feminist re-telling of Cinderella starring Drew Barrymore, Ever After. My sister and I were obsessed with it. We could recite the whole movie by heart without even needing to watch it. I wore my hair in braids. I wore glitter around my eyes. I named my first blog, "Breathe, Just Breathe" from a line in the film.
With the exception of Hairspray, I’m generally not enamored with movies that have been made into stage musicals. Too often the book is a slavic re-creation of the film script, the scenes and staging lifted right from the movie onto the stage. It doesn’t make for great theatre, or musicals.
So when I heard that my childhood sweetheart was being made into a musical, I was slightly terrified. What if they just re-created the movie onstage with songs in the parts that felt “emotional”? What if they wrote an entirely new script and didn’t even reference my favorite lines? What if they ruined my childhood???
I am pleased to say that Ever After the musical, playing at the Paper Mill Playhouse until June 21, did none of these things. It took my beloved childhood sweetheart in its arms and made it sing. It lovingly referenced the movie, but the show stood on its own two dancing feet and told the story in a whole new way. From the spirited opening number, Chére Danielle/Ever After, I loved it.
Margot Seibert was wonderful as Danielle. Her strong mezzo voice is well suited to the score, and she is completely believable as the gutsy heroine. James Snyder was a perfect prince. He has one of those melt-your-heart soaring tenor voices, and his charm and sincerity were evident. Tony Sheldon a delightful Leonardo, delivering one-liners and wisdom with charm and warmth. Mara Davi was an astonishingly petulant Marguerite, and her ability to switch between soprano trills and character voices was hilarious.
References to the film throughout, particularly King Frances and Queen Marie’s four poster bed, were well done but the creators weren’t afraid to shy away from changing moments to better suit the stage. The gypsies are used to great effect, though their characterization borders a little too closely to stereotype.
Overall, Zina Goldrich’s score is wonderful. It’s a truly rich tapestry that is light without being fluffy, and full of gorgeous tunes. Marcy Heisler’s book and lyrics are a genuine treat, and capture the delightful wittiness of the film without being slavish to it. I really hope a cast recording is made, because the score deserves to be heard. Tantalizing tidbits can be seen and heard here, here, here, and here (guess what I've been watching all morning).
Kathleen Marshall’s choreography was perfectly suited, and the dancing gypsies were a surprise treat.
The show is not without its flaws. Derek McLane’s set design didn’t scream 16th century France - with its platforms on either side of the stage, it felt more like RENT meets the late Middle Ages. Having said that, McLane’s backdrop projections were beautiful, and evoked exactly the right feel without detracting from the action.
A few numbers need to be cut, particularly the Act 1 finale Out of the Darkness. It’s a gorgeous love song (and absolutely needs to be on the cast recording, please), but the first act is already too long. The opening of Act 2, Who Do You Think You Are, where Danielle confronts her stepmother is a masterful moment of musical theatre, and would make a better Act 1 finale. Some of the key moments, particularly the father’s death and Danielle’s arrival at the ball, felt rushed and therefore lost. Other moments, particularly Henry and Danielle’s scene in the forest, were a little too labored. These could be easily remedied.
I’m really excited for Ever After the musical to transfer to Broadway. It deserves a wider audience, and Goldrich and Heisler’s talents are well overdue for a Broadway success.
I just hope I can re-watch the movie without feeling sad that Angelica Houston and Drew Barrymore won’t break out into song.
With the exception of Hairspray, I’m generally not enamored with movies that have been made into stage musicals. Too often the book is a slavic re-creation of the film script, the scenes and staging lifted right from the movie onto the stage. It doesn’t make for great theatre, or musicals.
So when I heard that my childhood sweetheart was being made into a musical, I was slightly terrified. What if they just re-created the movie onstage with songs in the parts that felt “emotional”? What if they wrote an entirely new script and didn’t even reference my favorite lines? What if they ruined my childhood???
I am pleased to say that Ever After the musical, playing at the Paper Mill Playhouse until June 21, did none of these things. It took my beloved childhood sweetheart in its arms and made it sing. It lovingly referenced the movie, but the show stood on its own two dancing feet and told the story in a whole new way. From the spirited opening number, Chére Danielle/Ever After, I loved it.
Margot Seibert was wonderful as Danielle. Her strong mezzo voice is well suited to the score, and she is completely believable as the gutsy heroine. James Snyder was a perfect prince. He has one of those melt-your-heart soaring tenor voices, and his charm and sincerity were evident. Tony Sheldon a delightful Leonardo, delivering one-liners and wisdom with charm and warmth. Mara Davi was an astonishingly petulant Marguerite, and her ability to switch between soprano trills and character voices was hilarious.
References to the film throughout, particularly King Frances and Queen Marie’s four poster bed, were well done but the creators weren’t afraid to shy away from changing moments to better suit the stage. The gypsies are used to great effect, though their characterization borders a little too closely to stereotype.
Overall, Zina Goldrich’s score is wonderful. It’s a truly rich tapestry that is light without being fluffy, and full of gorgeous tunes. Marcy Heisler’s book and lyrics are a genuine treat, and capture the delightful wittiness of the film without being slavish to it. I really hope a cast recording is made, because the score deserves to be heard. Tantalizing tidbits can be seen and heard here, here, here, and here (guess what I've been watching all morning).
Kathleen Marshall’s choreography was perfectly suited, and the dancing gypsies were a surprise treat.
The show is not without its flaws. Derek McLane’s set design didn’t scream 16th century France - with its platforms on either side of the stage, it felt more like RENT meets the late Middle Ages. Having said that, McLane’s backdrop projections were beautiful, and evoked exactly the right feel without detracting from the action.
A few numbers need to be cut, particularly the Act 1 finale Out of the Darkness. It’s a gorgeous love song (and absolutely needs to be on the cast recording, please), but the first act is already too long. The opening of Act 2, Who Do You Think You Are, where Danielle confronts her stepmother is a masterful moment of musical theatre, and would make a better Act 1 finale. Some of the key moments, particularly the father’s death and Danielle’s arrival at the ball, felt rushed and therefore lost. Other moments, particularly Henry and Danielle’s scene in the forest, were a little too labored. These could be easily remedied.
I’m really excited for Ever After the musical to transfer to Broadway. It deserves a wider audience, and Goldrich and Heisler’s talents are well overdue for a Broadway success.
I just hope I can re-watch the movie without feeling sad that Angelica Houston and Drew Barrymore won’t break out into song.
- Published on
The Cairn.
2008: The First Walk
Seven years ago I walked the Camino, a 500 mile pilgrimage across northern rural Spain, for the first time. I walked it with my then boyfriend. We were on a year long holiday around the world. The Camino seemed like a great way to see Spain.
The Cruz de Ferro marks one of the highest points on The Way. Traditionally you bring a stone from home and place it at the base of the cross, leaving with it your troubles, sadness, and worries.
Over half-way into our walk, we reached Rabanal, one of the last towns before the Cruz de Ferro. I tossed and turned all through the night, wondering what I would leave behind. In the early hours of the morning, I had an epiphany. If I left a grievance behind, I would have to come back every year to absolve whatever else had come up in my life. I had been listening to a lot of Alanis Morissette, and her song thank u had been on heavy replay. I decided instead of pain/sorrow/anger, I would leave something that I would carry with me from that day forward: gratitude.
I wrote a note -
The Cruz de Ferro marks one of the highest points on The Way. Traditionally you bring a stone from home and place it at the base of the cross, leaving with it your troubles, sadness, and worries.
Over half-way into our walk, we reached Rabanal, one of the last towns before the Cruz de Ferro. I tossed and turned all through the night, wondering what I would leave behind. In the early hours of the morning, I had an epiphany. If I left a grievance behind, I would have to come back every year to absolve whatever else had come up in my life. I had been listening to a lot of Alanis Morissette, and her song thank u had been on heavy replay. I decided instead of pain/sorrow/anger, I would leave something that I would carry with me from that day forward: gratitude.
I wrote a note -
Dear Universe,
For being
My soul
For love
For energy
For strength
For knowledge
Thank you.
For being
My soul
For love
For energy
For strength
For knowledge
Thank you.
We passed through Foncebadon, a once abandoned town, now with a thriving hippy albergue decked out with prayer flags and offering homemade granola. We stopped for breakfast, charmed by the quaintness of the albergue and the remoteness of the tiny pueblo.
Less than an hour later, we arrived at the famed cross. It looked like a rubbish dump. Bits of ribbon and remnants of flags, t-shirts, rags, letters and notes, Jesus cards, and candy wrappers littered the base. A tourist bus pulled up. We decided to keep walking.
Our guidebook had mentioned a point about a kilometer on from the cross that was the true highest point of the Camino. It was off the path a little way, and marked by a large cairn. We reached the cairn. No one was there except for us. I mailed my note to the universe through a crack in the cairn.
My gratitude prayer became my mantra. Each line meant different things to me at different times in the following years. I often wrote out all the things and people I was grateful for. All the things I was glad I knew. It became a personal meditation.
Less than an hour later, we arrived at the famed cross. It looked like a rubbish dump. Bits of ribbon and remnants of flags, t-shirts, rags, letters and notes, Jesus cards, and candy wrappers littered the base. A tourist bus pulled up. We decided to keep walking.
Our guidebook had mentioned a point about a kilometer on from the cross that was the true highest point of the Camino. It was off the path a little way, and marked by a large cairn. We reached the cairn. No one was there except for us. I mailed my note to the universe through a crack in the cairn.
My gratitude prayer became my mantra. Each line meant different things to me at different times in the following years. I often wrote out all the things and people I was grateful for. All the things I was glad I knew. It became a personal meditation.
2013: The Second Walk
Two years ago, I returned to El Camino. It had kept calling me in the intervening five years. I frequently dreamt about it. Waiting for my visa to move to the US and be with my new love, I quit my job in London, packed my backpack, and once again donned my walking boots. My whole world had changed since I had last walked most of the width of northern Spain. My heart had been broken, but I had healed and moved on. I had moved to London, gone to drama school, fallen in love, and I was about to move to America. I thought about Alanis and how her music had been with me through it all.
I made a friend along the way. We ended up walking the rest of the way together. In Rabanal, I once again thought about what I would leave at the cross, or at my cairn. I realized I still wanted to leave behind, and bring with me, gratitude.
We reached Foncebadon. A new albergue had sprung up. We stopped to use the facilities. As we were leaving the pueblo, I decided to pop into the “old” albergue to see if it had retained its hippy vibe. The layout had changed, but they were still offering granola and herbal tea. I noticed music was playing.
Of all the songs that exist in the world, of all the songs that could have been playing in that moment, as I happened to be passing through unannounced, the one song playing on the radio, I absolutely kid you not, was Alanis Morrissette’s thank u. I burst into tears.
The Cruz de Ferro had been tidied up. It felt less touristy somehow. I stood and watched as a woman quietly prayed and sobbed at the base. The cairn took a little hunting. We found it. Still sitting perched on top of the mountain as it had been five years ago. And for how many years before that. I spoke my prayer this time. Thank you for letting me be here.
I made a friend along the way. We ended up walking the rest of the way together. In Rabanal, I once again thought about what I would leave at the cross, or at my cairn. I realized I still wanted to leave behind, and bring with me, gratitude.
We reached Foncebadon. A new albergue had sprung up. We stopped to use the facilities. As we were leaving the pueblo, I decided to pop into the “old” albergue to see if it had retained its hippy vibe. The layout had changed, but they were still offering granola and herbal tea. I noticed music was playing.
Of all the songs that exist in the world, of all the songs that could have been playing in that moment, as I happened to be passing through unannounced, the one song playing on the radio, I absolutely kid you not, was Alanis Morrissette’s thank u. I burst into tears.
The Cruz de Ferro had been tidied up. It felt less touristy somehow. I stood and watched as a woman quietly prayed and sobbed at the base. The cairn took a little hunting. We found it. Still sitting perched on top of the mountain as it had been five years ago. And for how many years before that. I spoke my prayer this time. Thank you for letting me be here.
2015: The Next Walk
Now it is two years later, and today is the anniversary of walking through Foncebadon, hearing thank u, reaching the Cruz de Ferro, and re-visiting the cairn.
My world view has completely changed again in those intervening two years. I’m married. I’m living in New York. I have survived leukemia. I no longer believe in “the universe”. I no longer believe in karma or fairness (though I still think we should be nice to each other, because the alternative is just awful). My gratitude prayer no longer holds resonance in the way that it did. I still believe in musicals.
There have been days in the past year when I have not felt lucky to be alive. I have wished that I had refused treatment. I have wished that I could just fall asleep and never wake up again. I have felt trapped, angry, sad, frustrated, and everything in between.
I have also felt deeply loved. Deeply held. Deeply supported. It is an awful cliche, but there is no denying it: cancer, particularly in the brutal form of leukemia, is life changing. It has taken my life away. It has given me a whole new one.
El Camino no longer calls me. But a new journey is about to start. I just don’t know what it is yet.
My world view has completely changed again in those intervening two years. I’m married. I’m living in New York. I have survived leukemia. I no longer believe in “the universe”. I no longer believe in karma or fairness (though I still think we should be nice to each other, because the alternative is just awful). My gratitude prayer no longer holds resonance in the way that it did. I still believe in musicals.
There have been days in the past year when I have not felt lucky to be alive. I have wished that I had refused treatment. I have wished that I could just fall asleep and never wake up again. I have felt trapped, angry, sad, frustrated, and everything in between.
I have also felt deeply loved. Deeply held. Deeply supported. It is an awful cliche, but there is no denying it: cancer, particularly in the brutal form of leukemia, is life changing. It has taken my life away. It has given me a whole new one.
El Camino no longer calls me. But a new journey is about to start. I just don’t know what it is yet.
- Published on
Late Friday afternoon
In Brooklyn
The sky, bright blue
With a sun
Still hours from sleep
Along Stratford Road
Arab, Jewish, Latino
Children play on the sidewalk
Skip and yell and laugh
Push younger siblings in prams
Draw chalk pictures and lines
Into the cement
People walk their dogs
Run with
Headphones plugged in
Feet pounding
In the runner’s shuffle
Pa! Pa! Pa! Pa!
Cars blare music
Setting the mood for Friday night
A child cries, comforted by its mother because it fell off its scooter
A fire truck races, horn blaring
Lights flashing
At the edge of the park
Three small boys perch in the gazebo
Plotting mischief
Dad is busy at the grill
Mom chats with neighbors
A woman sits reading in dappled sunlight
She sits in close proximity to her parked car
Where she has left her phone, wallet and handbag
She has told her husband she is working late
Further down
A family sits eating pizza
The large box obscures the child
As you walk past
You see him munching on a cheese slice
At the baseball field
The men’s games are in progress
A little girl
Three or four,
Wearing pink floral leggings under a baby blue dress
A purple scarf over her long dark braids
Walks by with her mother
The girl giggles for no apparent reason
The mother gives her a look
They keep walking
In the other direction
A mother and her little boy
Three or four
Walk by
Don’t touch it honey
People should really pick up their own dog’s poop
It’s not Harry’s poop?
HARRY’S POOP!
Two girls on bicycles come tearing by
The smaller girl yells
LET’S RACE-3-2-1-GO!
I realize
That for a whole half hour
I wasn’t even thinking about cancer.
In Brooklyn
The sky, bright blue
With a sun
Still hours from sleep
Along Stratford Road
Arab, Jewish, Latino
Children play on the sidewalk
Skip and yell and laugh
Push younger siblings in prams
Draw chalk pictures and lines
Into the cement
People walk their dogs
Run with
Headphones plugged in
Feet pounding
In the runner’s shuffle
Pa! Pa! Pa! Pa!
Cars blare music
Setting the mood for Friday night
A child cries, comforted by its mother because it fell off its scooter
A fire truck races, horn blaring
Lights flashing
At the edge of the park
Three small boys perch in the gazebo
Plotting mischief
Dad is busy at the grill
Mom chats with neighbors
A woman sits reading in dappled sunlight
She sits in close proximity to her parked car
Where she has left her phone, wallet and handbag
She has told her husband she is working late
Further down
A family sits eating pizza
The large box obscures the child
As you walk past
You see him munching on a cheese slice
At the baseball field
The men’s games are in progress
A little girl
Three or four,
Wearing pink floral leggings under a baby blue dress
A purple scarf over her long dark braids
Walks by with her mother
The girl giggles for no apparent reason
The mother gives her a look
They keep walking
In the other direction
A mother and her little boy
Three or four
Walk by
Don’t touch it honey
People should really pick up their own dog’s poop
It’s not Harry’s poop?
HARRY’S POOP!
Two girls on bicycles come tearing by
The smaller girl yells
LET’S RACE-3-2-1-GO!
I realize
That for a whole half hour
I wasn’t even thinking about cancer.