I have a confession. I deep dark secret that has been lurking in my closet, banging on the door, crying, begging to be let out. I’ve been ashamed, afraid my street cred would be in jeopardy if this privity were out. However, I feel as though I must let it out, atone for my sins as it were.
Here it is:
G and I are Guthrie Theater season ticket holders.
I hope this doesn’t spoil any illusions you may have of us. One might think we were cultural elitists, rubbing elbows with the wealthy suburbanites, Thomas Kinkade prints adorning the wall above our tasteful sofa, my closet full of faux-artsy clothes purchased at Chicos. This would be wrong. We simply enjoy theater of all kinds, preferably thought provoking, or at least something to absorb us for a couple of hours. If we can get it for cheap, then all the better!
It started innocently enough. I saw a title that made my heart flutter. We’d waited for deals in the past, hoping we could see interesting shows at affordable prices. However, I felt deep in my heart this was something I needed to see, so I figured we should pony up at our first chance. Then, G found out we could get season tickets for as few as three shows. For twenty dollars a show. Rush tickets are $25. There were two shows that we kind of wanted to see, one of which had buzz not unlike a honey farm. We were sold. We purchased tickets, and we were off. The first show was okay. I didn’t want my two hours back or anything, but it was a little disappointing all the way around. The script was not up to the playwright’s usual par, the actors were capable, but not outstanding, and the set was pretty lackluster. The next show was ambitious, and I would even say enjoyable. However, it fell a little short of being ideal, or even outstanding. I gave it a whole lot of credit, however, as I will take an ambitious piece that falls short over a predictable or safe piece.
We just saw our final play, the play I had been waiting for, on Thursday. The Secret Fall of Constance Wilde. We were schedule to see it a month ago, however that night also happened to be opening night of the show I was in. Fortunately, because we had season tickets, we were able to exchange our tickets for another night at no additional charge. Sweet! Unfortunately, that night was the night before the show closed. This meant no opportunity for failure! We couldn’t miss this show, and we couldn’t see it again. It was do or die.
Luckily we made it. We had rather delightful seats, third row, house left (stage right). I was able to let every single impeccable detail wash over me and seep into every pore. It was an amazing experience. Easily the best thing I’ve ever seen at the Guthrie, and definitely on of the top things I’ve seen in ten years of living in the Twin Cities.
Not only was this show ambitious, it was successful. I feel as though words cannot adequately express what I witnessed on the stage last Thursday evening. As an audience member, I felt invested in these characters and haunted by the storytelling. Even inanimate objects were enthralling. I wanted to see it again, to let all the details not only wash over me, but absorb into my pores.
Alas, it was not to be. Only one more performance, and we could not attend. Positively brill. It was everything I love about the theater. It truly showcased the effectiveness of a talented collaboration. When every detail is spot on, and those involved are truly invested in their craft. How a piece of art should make one react, with emotion and feeling that fills you.
I feel blessed to have had the opportunity to have this experience. It is the kind of thing I aspire to create and share with the world.