Director Don Bilotti lurched onto the set, a giant grin on his face.
There'd been sell-out crowds for two nights before, when the play had opened, but on Super Bowl Sunday afternoon, we brave 23 sat in clumps, mostly pairs, a few singles along the three sides of Stage 3 Theatre's little theatre-in-the-round. I was surprised at the number of men in the audience, not all with wives and girl-friends.
"Private, showing," Don joked, thanking us for showing up for this production of Arthur Miller's "The Crucible."
I'd inadvertently booked my play ticket for Super Bowl Sunday. But it didn't matter without either the 49ers or Chargers (or even adopting the Saints because Sue18 is a fan) playing. I would have watched if I'd been home. Maybe.
|Austere set awaits the actors. |
No photos allowed during the play.
Excellent cast. Maximum effect was made of the spare set with creative use of light and sound.
"The Crucible" is jarring and thought-provoking, infuriating and sad, so "enjoy" doesn't seem accurate. Just, "Well done, people." Go see it if you live in the area.
Driving home in the hour before sundown when the shadows are long is always a beautiful experience. One day I might react quickly enough to stop for a photo of the sun reflecting off the power lines that cascade beside the highway like parallel ribbons of liquid silver.
They grow "rock crops" out here. Here are two small rock gardens. There's seldom room to pull off the road by the best rock fields.
See you tomorrow.