The Deeds of Men

Yesterday was an intense rehearsal for 'Henry Goodbar.' I struggled with my 'love scene' with 'Yvonne.' Still working on the lines; when it comes to 'physicality,' (my special challenge) I'm probably the weakest actor of the group. I am confident that my lines and actions will evolve. It is a strange alchemy. I'm actually better with monologues than with scenes ('he likes to play in his own sandbox, does not play well with others').

Afterwards, we went to see our friend, Winston, in 'King Lear' at the Theater Building. Winston was superb, he plays 'Edmund,' the bastard son who betrays his father, his brother, the King, the King's daughters, etc. Edmund is one of the best, most complete villians in the history of theater. Winston's performance was bold, beautiful, inspiring. His grounding in the language really gives him a special power, he brings the words of the 'Bard' vividly alive.

'Lear' is a difficult play, it is a bleak vision of a world totally askew: daughter against father, father against son, conspiracy and black deeds all around. The King is a madman, losing his faculties, led by a fool and a blind man, stumbling to a cold demise.

The production: performed brilliantly, excellent direction, the language sings. Shakespeare's explosion of words: beautiful, magical, other-worldly. 'Lear' seems 'modern' and relevant. At the same time, it comes from another time and land. Theater is a ritual, a resurrection, Lear lives and dies again and again. The language, the poetry dazzles, Edmund/Winston the rogue extraordinaire is justly punished. The King succumbs, the cold, unblinking sun looks down on us all. Long live the King.

The tragedy is strangely exhilarating; language, poetry, transcends the silly, the false, the horrible deeds of men.