On Wednesday night, I arrived at the Town Hall Theatre before 8pm. Downstairs, a gaggle of young girls¹ were queuing in the lobby for a dance performance on the main stage. This is the interactive generation, I thought to myself – people whose lives are recorded not in diaries and letters, but in SMS messages, Bebo and MySpace pages and Youtube. Upstairs in the Town Hall Studio at 8.30pm , a decidely older audience took their seats for a performance of Samuel Beckett’s Krapp’s Last Tape. The play is about an old man who has recorded his life on tape and, as he nears death, spends his time listening back to his recordings of earlier memories and incidents from his life. Is this the ultimate fate for anyone that records the passing of his or her life on Flickr, Facebook or on WordPress ? Every blogger should see it.
Incidentally, the number of Beckett scholars in the audience was exactly one – no one reacted when poor old Krapp gave his last gasp – until someone up in the corner started the applause [the play is only 40 minutes long and when the lights went down, I wasn’t sure if it was actually the end or there was more to come].
Well done to Fergus Cronin on a splendid performance, and to Art O’Briain, the director. Art presented his documentary film on the late Fergus Bourke to the Galway Camera Club last year which is a very moving tribute to a great Irish photographer.
¹ Now that I’m in my forties, anyone between 12 and 20 look much the same to me – very young. Soon, I’ll be ending blog posts with harumph.
I ,also, saw performance of Krapp’s Last Tape. It was in a small theater in Atlanta,GA. It was on a very rainy night and I remember trying to keep my sloshing down as I tried to find a seat. The theater was fairly empty so the sound of rain and thunder was the perfect usher. The artistic director/co-owner of the theater, who is also an actor, played the part of the old man. He was excellent. I remember that there was a single bare light bulb dangling over the stage which was occasionally swung into motion. I’m finding that those sparse, intimate performances are some of my favorites. There’s something about almost missing what is about to take place that make it so special. I guess it’s the realization that one doesn’t miss it that leaves the moment unforgettable.
I’m trying to get more involved with the theater, which really isn’t hard to do. I miss storytelling and reading aloud;wish there was much more of it.
Beckett was very particular about stage directions and the lack of clutter on the stage.