I ended up seeing 1001 at the Denver Center Theatre Company on Monday the 22nd, not Wednesday the 17th as originally planned. When I got to the Bonfils Theatre last week at about 4:45, expecting to find myself at the end of a line of people already getting tickets for 1001, I found that the performance that evening had been canceled, but that they were allowing those who'd turned up the chance to reserve a free ticket for any of the upcoming previews. So I picked Monday the 22nd, thinking that I stood the least chance of having any conflicting events on that day.
Well, I was only partly right about that. A couple of days later El Centro Su Teatro sent around its announcement about the City Council meeting on Monday. It's true, I have become so obsessed with free tickets (I believe one coworker called me a "theater whore") that I viewed this as a potential conflict.
No matter, I decided, I'll make it work. On Monday I left my office a few minutes early, lucked out with easy traffic, and actually ponied up the $8 to park in the DCPA lot. After picking up my 1001 ticket from will call, I immediately set out to hoof it from the DCPA to the Denver City & County building even though it was already 5:30 at that point. And hoof it I did, making up for at least a few days' worth of inactivity. Once I found the correct building, I was directed to go down the hall and up to the 4th floor by a guard who was just like Michael Jeter, except more so. By now it was just about 6:00, and I wondered if it was even really worth it, considering the curtain for the ticket I already held was at 6:30 and I still had to walk back. But what the hell, I was already there, so I followed Michael Jeter's directions.
Once I made it to the chambers, I learned that not only did I miss the vote on Su Teatro's new space, but there hadn't been much to miss. There were a lot of people just sort of hanging around in the hall and chambers, some hobknobbing and some who looked like they were still waiting for something to happen. Not wanting to approach just any Latino to ask "where's my free ticket at?" I lingered until I saw a young woman passing by holding a stack of flyers & vouchers for I Don't Have to Show You No Stinking Badges. She gave me one while she shrugged and said, "Yeah, it was really quick. They just voted and it passed." So there you have it. And I now have a voucher for any Thursday night performance for the production that opens Feb. 15. More to come on that one.
I walked into the Bonfils about about 10 minutes before curtain and immediately felt a sense of being back, similar to returning after a few years to the home of a close relative where you spent good times growing up. That sense of, "Oh yes, I know this place, I know these people. This is one place I can feel I belong." My breath came more easily, I felt my brow unfurrow slightly, and in the mirror lobby I looked more like... me. Cause after all, everyone is beautiful at the ballet...
I thought to myself, Man, it's been way too long since I've been to see a play.
The house was full, mostly with folks in their 50s and 60s -- not a full-on 'blue hair' audience, but more of a traditional subscription-type crowd.
You definitely either 1) trust your supporters, or 2) don't give a rat's ass what people think when you decide to program a world premiere such as 1001 in a city like Denver. It defies easy explanation; I think my attempts to tell people about it have sounded like this: "Well, um, it's based on Scheherazade's One Thousand and One Arabian Nights, and some it kind of takes place in that sort of mythical time. But then there's a modern couple living in New York, and their story kind of parallels it. And the stories kind of interweave and lead into one another. I mean, uh, an article I read kind of compared it to a webpage full of hyperlinks that take you to this story or that one, and they all relate on some level. And it's sort of like, uh, have you heard of magical realism? And it deals with 9/11 in a way but it's not heavy-handed. And an actor playing Osama bin Laden does Vincent Price's rap from 'Thriller,' and I totally laughed at that but I don't think the older people around me knew why. So it's kind of like that -- but you should totally go see it. I think you'd like it."
So now you don't need to ask me what 1001 is about because I just told you. It has some really beautiful moments, some jarring and surprising moments, a fantastic six-person cast, and a bitchin' DJ-as-sound board. You should go see it, especially if you don't see much theater and you're in that 20-45 year old age bracket that communicates a lot via e-mail and can recognize a Clash bassline when you hear it and have maybe even seen "Vertigo." I think you'd like it.
On Tuesday, I dropped a quick e-mail to Bret Saunders at KBCO, thinking that his is the perfect demographic for this production and maybe he'd mention the play at some point. On Wednesday my supervisor said, "Oh, someone on KBCO this morning was raving about that play you saw!" Turns out Bret read my e-mail on the air at about 8:30, so maybe I helped pay for my free ticket by getting a couple more butts in seats.
And the icing on this theatrical cake is that on Wednesday evening I got my own Q&A session with the playwright, Jason Grote. I had made his electronic acquaintance via the BCT Yahoo group for theater. So when the Denver Post published the article about 1001, I posted it to the group, and Jason and I e-mailed each other a couple of times about his plans to be here for the opening. He was completely gracious about offering to meet up for a cup of coffee when I told him of my plans to see King Lear on Wednesday, since he would be at the DCPA, too. So we met for about an hour. I followed my introduction by confessing that I hadn't realized how much he'd done until I read his full bio in the program; I knew wasn't a total neophyte, but I sort of thought of him as that playwright on BCT. Even so, this premiere at DCTC is still a big deal, which is why I was doubly impressed that he'd meet up with a local like me about whom he knew nothing. I got a chance to ask him a few questions about the play and how I thought some of the stories folded in on one another. I said that, especially having seen a very fluid performance, I wondered what the "Fuck you, Jason!" moments were that Ethan McSweeney, the director, had talked about in the Post article. While he didn't know of any specific moments, Jason said that he imagined they had to do with working out the tone and transitions, having had a few "Fuck you, Jason!" moments himself while writing the piece.
So I was a bit of a dork with my questions, and he was cool about it, and I came away from our meeting very appreciative of the opportunity to talk about the process with someone who really knows what he's doing. It made me feel again a little bit more like the me I hope to be.
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