The concert was last night and, presumably, it went well. I’m actually writing this post two days before the concert, so you’ll have to wait until Saturday for a full rundown.
Due to my illness earlier in the week and the hectic nature of the Fine Arts Festival, I’m throwing back to another old post this Friday. Our High School Drama students will give their performance of their own adaptation of Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing. The Drama teacher asked me to play the part of Leonato, but once I fell ill, I did something I rarely do—I backed out. Fortunately, he is a massive Shakespeare buff, so I think he is covering the part… I hope!
Anyway, it seemed like a good time to look back to opening night of my own brief theatrical career, playing “Brett” in Catching Icarus, a two-act play a former student wrote. The details are below in the original post, but I will add that it was extremely challenging—and rewarding. It’s also something I have little desire to do again, as the amount of mental and emotional energy acting demands is too much.
Tonight I will appear in the first of three performances (get tickets to tonight’s performance, the Saturday matinee, or the Saturday night performance) of Catching Icarus, a play one of my former students wrote. It’s a two-act play that takes place in a Waffle House in Dillon, South Carolina. It’s a cast of four characters. I play “Brett,” the father of a young man who is struggling with addiction and loss.
It’s quite gripping. It’s also been one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.
This coming January, two theatrical events will occur: I’m playing the role of “Brett,” the father of a drug-addicted son, in a play one of my former students wrote called Catching Icarus (the hook: both acts take place in a Waffle House in South Carolina); and the Senate trial against President Trump will (allegedly) begin.
From the rehearsals I’ve been to so far, I can say that acting is difficult—and I get to spend most of the first act in a booth drinking coffee. It takes a special kind of conviction (or delusion) to invest in a role, to become another person.
For congressional Democrats, they sure seem right at home on the political stage. They are masters of the kabuki theatre of outrage.