Common Thread

I came across a blog entry from 2004 on July 1st. It had been misfiled to an area of my laptop that I had never accessed before. I don't think it saw the light of day previously. The topic was the 2004-2006 National Tour of "Evita" having a try-out in Waterbury, CT and the remnant of a dream. These were my observations at the time:

Oct. 26th, 2004 at 4:32 PM

"Massive church and public buildings and visible images of crushing poverty were the sights on my 45-minute walk this morning around Waterbury, Connecticut. I decided to get out and about to shake off the vestiges of an unusual dream; and so with a sunny crisp morning here and Fall foliage peaking, painting the hill sides in broad strokes of crimson, yellow and orange, I headed out in search of photo opportunities.

As many small cities in the Northeast with industrial backgrounds, Waterbury has abundant examples of empty mills, cloaked in red-bricked dignity, now shabbily clinging to their past, empty and sad. I passed one building that was obviously an Elks or Lions Club decades ago, but was now a Hindu Evangelical Temple. (I’m not sure what that means:)

Waterbury’s St. Ann’s Catholic Church is a stunning twin-spired gothic granite building of immense scale. Mary Sheehan, an actress in ‘Evita”, attended Mass there on Sunday and told me there were few celebrants at the Mass. No church survives long without a congregation. I passed an old wooden building that had obviously been a tavern at one point. It was now a church whose mission was to assist recovering addicts. A bit ironic, given its history ...

The Palace Theatre where we are teching “Evita” has been closed for 20 years, but is set to reopen next month. We are the first tenants of the refurbished theatre, though we are not performing for the public. The building is glorious ... plush red velvet seats ... every mural, cornice and proscenium detail brought back to life. Tony Bennett’s concert in 1984 closed The Palace; he is set to reopen the theatre in November. I guess Bennett left his heart in more places than San Francisco:)

Everywhere I turn, I see young people, hardened by poverty, hopelessness etched into their prematurely aging faces. I witnessed a woman yesterday, who came into the cafe where I was eating supper count every bit of change she had just to have a modest hot meal. She asked the price of a burger, what it would cost with fries, the price of a cup of coffee. She couldn’t afford the fries, but ultimately treated herself to a glass of milk. I started to tell the waitress to bring her fries and I’d pay, but something in the woman’s face told me that sitting in a restaurant, paying for a meal was of significance to her and that my offer would embarrass her. Sometimes, buttressing someone's dignity is more important than grand gestures.

As I concluded my walk, I came across a funny sight. A white-haired priest of about 80 years of age was walking his dog on a leash. The dog, a very young energetic Golden Retriever was impatient, pulling him down the street, nearly yanking him off his feet. The priest didn’t see me until I was close to them and he was cursing a blue streak at his pet. When he saw me, I grinned and he gave me a very composed smile and friendly greeting just before his pup tugged him into a bush. When he thought he was out of my earshot (but wasn’t), he let go with another string of expletives. I guess priests are human too:)

I’ve pondered the dream I had last night, all morning. I was in an airport with the cast of “Evita” and we were handling our bags. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw one of those big old-fashioned baby buggies. I was the only one who noticed that it had been abandoned. I looked into the buggy; inside was an angelic baby girl. To my horror, the buggy was filling with water and her face was submerged; she was drowning. I lifted her out and resuscitated her. I implored people for help, but no one came to the rescue. Her parents were gone and so were my fellow actors. I had been left behind.

I continued to ask for help. I noticed that my bags had been stolen, but nothing mattered. I had to help this child. Every time I put the baby back into the carriage in order to seek assistance, the carriage would fill up with water. I brought her back to life three or four times in the course of the dream, eventually just cuddling her in my arms to protect her. Finally, a policeman came up to me and firmly declared, "No one wants her - she’s yours. You have to keep her and protect her for the rest of your life." I woke up from my dream, bewildered, but surprisingly calm.

What does it mean? I shouldn’t eat Hanover pretzel sticks and peanut butter before I go to bed? Yes there have been times when I wanted to be a Dad, but that time is long past. I’ve never had a dream where the imagery was so confusing, distressing and vivid, yet where I ultimately felt such a sense of peace.

Now that I think of it, the city I strolled through this morning and my mystical dreamlike encounter with a child in need of rescue are similar.... remnants of dreams of loss and abandonment, morphing into a search for rebirth and renewal....with water as a common thread."

Postscript: The Evita National Tour returned to Waterbury, CT as its closing city in early 2006. Performances were poorly attended due to a massive blizzard. However, I remember the experience vividly as a positive one. I was working with people whose friendship I cherish to this day. Director/Choreographer Larry Fuller was with us at closing.