Proactive Puppets and Other Observations From the Weekend

So, a friend just sent me a link to this great ranting letter that Jeff Whitty, writer of Broadway's "Avenue Q," wrote to Jay Leno regarding offensive gay jokes. I thought the letter was very well put and important to get out there. I was glad someone like Jeff Whitty (with the apropos last name) had the guts and gumption to write it and THEN - the harder part - send it. Apparently it is causing quite a stir.

My favorite quote:

"When I think of gay people, I think of a brave group that has made tremendous contributions to society, in arts, letters, science, philosophy, and politics. I think of some of the most hilarious people I know. I think of a group that has served as a cultural guardian for an ungrateful and ignorant America."

Bravo Jeff! I've linked to his website through the title of this post. He talks about how suprised he was at the public reaction to the letter. He wrote it in a moment of frustration, and a few forward clicks later it's floating endlessly in cyberspace, conjuring heated response on both sides of the issue. I love that he qualifies himself on his website by saying that he loves a good gay joke, of course with the "good" in italics.

It's the tired old stereotypes that perpetuate bigotry.

In other moments of humor and/or quiet thoughtfulness: I'm staying with one of the co-chairs of the season gala for Opera Theatre St. Louis, and so I had the opportunity to go and hob-nob over the weekend. It was a great event, well organized and actually fun, which sometimes really isn't the case. I think perhaps the greatest aspect was the fact that the food was pit barbecue: ribs, brisket, creamed spinach, coleslaw and cornbread. It was delicious but messy, so we were provided with a huge white bib bearing the OTSL logo. What a people-watcher's delight to look around the room at all of these people dressed to the nines in tuxedos, gowns and silky wraps, with a white paper bib tied around their neck and their fingers full of rich, red barbecue sauce. It defined the evening and brought everyone out of their shells immediately. You cannot be stuffy and eat messy finger food at the same time; it just doesn't work.

Backtracking a bit, "Hansel and Gretel" was lucky enough to be the first show to move into the brand new rehearsal space. It was terribly exciting to have our first couple of rehearsals in this pristine room with sky-high ceilings, beautiful laminate floors and great, over-stuffed office chairs to roll around in. I was actually a bit taken back at the beginning of the rehearsal when I couldn't hear a thing Michael was saying as he led Leah Wool and Saundra DeAthos through their staging on the newly taped floor. It was soon after that I realized that the room was so large and live, and I was sitting so much farther away than in the tiny room we were in formerly, that his quiet direction didn't carry far enough for me to pick up. I ended up having to scooch my whole table closer to be able to write and listen at the same time.

Our stage manager was excited because she could place Maestro Lumpkin the exact distance from the singers that he will be in the house. What a luxury to have a room big enough to accomodate the entire stage space as well as the entire pit space. We are languishing in the vastness, the cleanliness and the acoustic bliss.

My time in St. Louis just keeps getting better and better.