July
20, 2005
Mark
asked me recently, "I don't see how you can still watch this show every
day; doesn't it drive you crazy?" My answer was no, it doesn't. The thing
is, from where I sit, up in the box seat above stage right, which I refer to
as the Crow's Nest, I experience much more than just the show. Of course the
main attraction to this seat is the view of the stage, which is ideal for studying
detail. As I told Mark, every time I watch the play I notice something new about
one or all of the actors I'm covering, and you can never have too much detail.
It makes everyone's job a lot easier once they start rehearsing the swings.
In the box I can easily eavesdrop on conversations going on around me. All of us like to keep our ears open to get an idea of what viewers are thinking about the show, and usually I can hear talk going on before, during and sometimes after. I heard a couple of chatty women from way down south (Texas or Oklahoma, probably) who were obviously quite conservative, but they were loving the show all the same. There were a couple of young NY natives who liked John Lennon but had no idea that he had a wife and son prior to meeting Ms Ono (and of course no idea his son had a number one album twenty years ago).
But the best part of the crow's nest is the energy I get from the stage and the crowd. I'm visible to the cast when they look my way, and they seem to get a little charge out of seeing a teammate close by. I feel the strength of their performance coming off the stage, and I feel the love from the house, especially at the show's end. Each night I gaze over the audience, which is dimly illuminated by the stage lighting, and watch them wipe tears from their eyes. Then I feel their cathartic release upon the play's upbeat finish. It's the same reaction every night, and I never get tired of that moment.
Yoko doesn't seem to tire from it either; she's been at the theatre often lately. Although I can't know for sure, I imagine it would be a therapeutic experience for her. Over the years, she's presided over countless projects related to her husband and his work. It's always been one facet at a time - a record release, an art exhibit, a film, a line of baby gear. But this project is the most ambitious one, because it offers just about everything that John Lennon was. As Lennon photographer and friend Bob Gruen remarked to us, "It's not a show about John. It is John".
And every night it's live, before a large group of people who have all gathered to reflect, mourn and rejoice within the controlled environment of a darkened theatre. At last, Yoko can safely share all of her emotions with the rest of us. What could be more healing than that?