Having the time to sit and think, digest, and spew, I’m taking this moment to write to you from my living room regarding yesterday’s showing of The Women of Lockerbie by Deborah Brevoort. Full disclosure, I studied an extensive amount of Theatre when I attended Calvin. I had Stephanie Sandberg as my directing professor. I worked with David Leugs when I stagemanaged. In other words, I knew what I was going to get before I walked into the Gezon auditorium.
Regardless of the fact that this production takes place in a setting of learning, these are professionals. They don’t just preach technique, they live it. Stephanie has an innate ability to bring out the best in her actors. She’s one of the few people I’ve met who is able to teach young actors a convincing accent - any accent. Her actors are able to carry on a convincing and moving piece. Period.
That’s just what this show needs. The show is about the laundry project that took place during the years following the Pan Am 103 bombing that landed over Scotland in Lockerbie. Brevoort is fascinated by Greek Tragedy and wrote her play to follow this specific structure. Most Americans will relate this to 9-11, while others will relate the powerful emotions of grief, anger, loss, being lost, hate, chaos, and love to the death of a child, a failed relationship, war, - or any other moment that we measure our life in. As Stephanie puts it in her director’s notes, “these after moments.” Ie; “after 9-11,” “after he left me,” “after dad died” … or as before moments, “before 9-11,” “before I met him,” “before mom lost dad,” …
Brevoort, however she did it, wrote an extremely moving and intense play. I could relate to the chaos. I grieved for the characters and for the before/after moments in my life. I laughed at the moments of humor - if only to breathe a sigh of relief before being pulled down by anger and loss. The play does end on a happy note. But one thing that Brevoort said has struck me - “the euphoria we feel at the end is directly proportional to how far down in hell, in chaos, we’re willing to let ourselves go.” She’s right. She’s very, very right.
It’s like Edward Albee said in the Zoo Story, ” I have learned that the two [love and hate] combined, together at the same time, are the teaching emotion.”
It needs to be said; props to the cast! You all were very, very convincing, moving, and agents of truth. Also, to Leugs - quality. Your ability to master a metaphor in the visual space never ceases to amaze - I hope in the future there is room to work together again.
And with that, I’m off for some rest before I plunge into more assisted learning tomorrow.
