Adventures in Cultural Expansion Part I

On Hamlet, NYC, and my Mama

I live an hour from one of the biggest and most diverse cities in the entire world.

When I was 10-ish (I think; I don’t remember the exact year but I’m pretty sure I was 10 or 11) my Mama, who worked for the National Association of Community Health Centers, brought me with her to New York City on a work trip. I got to miss a whole week of school in September because, as she put it, “This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I don’t know that you’ll ever get a chance to see New York again. I want you to have these memories.”

When I was ten, I had no idea that I only had three years left with my mom. I knew she’d been very sick, a few times, but that she was in remission. We had big hopes still that she’d live a long, full life. That didn’t happen. So these memories of going with her to NYC are even more precious: a time capsule that I dig up every time I’m there.

Nobody in my small town growing up would have assumed I’d live here now. I certainly did not. For one, I’m more of a “big town” person, not a “humongous city” person. I figured that out in Chicago. But there are some things that are undeniably benefits of living in the Big City Sphere.

We have good food, access to public transit, and really, really cool cultural enrichment opportunities.

On the hottest day of this summer so far, Emma, our friend Ellen, and I went to Shakespeare in the Park—Central Park, to be exact. We saw Hamlet performed by an absolutely outstanding cast, and while it wasn’t my first time seeing Hamlet, it was definitely the best production I’ve seen. The cast was primarily Black actors, with a stand-out (in several ways) white Polonius who was dressed very similarly to the Colonel of Kentucky Fried Chicken fame. He looked like he belonged in Tennessee Williams’ Summer and Smoke, not Hamlet, and I loved him more for it. But truly, the performances by Hamlet, Ophelia, and Claudius were beyond incredible.

I wish there was a recording I could share with you, because I want to talk about it with everyone, but of course we don’t share recordings of theater. That’s a different letter for a different time! In the meantime, have this trailer that gives you the feel of the event:

The stage at the Delacorte Theater in Central Park was a shallow thrust style, and there were absolutely no bad seats. There was also ASL interpretation in my showing, and the interpreters looked like they were doing an incredible job. My friend Emmanuel from work is Deaf, and he ended up at the same showing we did, which was amazing! I finally got to meet him in person, and he loved the show as much as I did. The music and sound design, the character choices, the costuming, the casting—it was all incredible. I wish I could say we’re going back next year, but the Public is forgoing Shakespeare in the Park next year to renovate the Delacorte Theater. This is, in my opinion, a pretty worthy goal; the seats are on the snug side, and the theater isn’t super accessible. I’ll miss the opportunity to go in 2024, but we’ll be returning when it’s open again!

I’ve loved theater since I saw a production of Rikki-Tikki-Tavi at Texas A&M University-Commerce in the nineties. I was obsessed with the energy in the room, and the way the performers in their costumes seemed so much larger than all the people I knew. I went to every performance I could, until I was in high school and could start performing myself. The long hours of rehearsal were well worth it for that single hour of performance. I ached to be on stage, to bring to life someone else, to be part of the incredible chemistry that is a play. Seeing Hamlet reminded me what that chemistry is like when it’s really, really good. When it really works.

Our next theater outing will be up to Beacon, NY, for an original play about Penelope from the Odyssey, which we’ve been looking forward to since Spring. I’ll be sure to tell you all about it.

In order to keep this brief, I’ve split this letter in half, since it was already……. long. Part II will cover our recent visit to the Met to see Van Gogh’s Cypresses. Be ready for tears!

XOXO,

Anne