a night at the guthrie (lucky me!!!)

There are a few perks to working at a beloved but slightly impoverished non-profit agency. The pay sucks, but once in a while there comes along a wealthy benefactor to make our lives a little brighter. This time, someone generously donated tickets to Minneapolis' world-class play-house, the Guthrie Theater, to see Robert Bly's adaptation of Peer Gynt. We held a drawing at work, and guess who ended up with a pair of tickets? Whoo hooo!!! I took my friend Dorcas Hathaway as my date--she's a great co-worker; a loyal, encouraging friend; my neighbor; and my favelezz*. So of course she got to go.

I got all dressed up (not something I do often) and put on these sexy strappy shoes (not at all appropriate in a Minnesota winter). When we arrived, it was just lovely... the theater was so cool and arty. I felt extremely fly.

"Why is it that I almost never go to the theater?" I wondered aloud. Minneapolis (and St Paul) really does have the most fabulous theater scene. I suppose it has something to do with the ticket prices (if ours hadn't been free, they'd have been about $54 apiece), and also the fact that I spend so much all of my discretionary income at movie theaters, leaving barely enough for mac & cheese. After about thirty minutes of Peer Gynt, however, I started to think of a few more reasons.

Peer Gynt is a classic, confusing Norwegian fairy tale/morality play, which had been translated and adapted by Robert Bly, Minnesota's most distinguished poet (if you don't count Bob Dylan). OK, so the poetry was great. There were some funny bits. But........

People, it was weird. Weird, and difficult to follow.

And you remember those sexy, strappy shoes? Well, they turned out to be evil, soul-sucking shoes. It's really hard to sit and enjoy understand an avant-garde Norwegian play when there are tiny straps of leather cutting through your skin.

And then it was intermission. So we got to go out to the lobby and walk down the Guthrie's famous Eternity Bridge that hangs in midair over the banks of the Mississippi River (this is where savvy Minneapolitans went to survey the wreckage after the 35W bridge collapse). The view was breathtaking... It was so lovely... Dorcas lasted 28 seconds outside. I think she's got a heights thing.


I sat down for the second act, armed with my favorite Vitamin Water (XXX, the free radical fighter!), and made it through without sleeping. But by the time I got home, my right pinky toe was the size and heft of a wrecking ball.
What I learned:
  1. The Guthrie is lovely. I will be happy to take free tickets off anyone's hands, anytime in the future.
  2. I'm never wearing those shoes again. Yes, I looked hot initially, but that only lasted until I started hobbling around like one of Peer Gynt's trolls.
  3. My city kicks ass. I don't take nearly enough advantage of this.
  4. I do enjoy the occasional trip to the theater, but I am still solidly a movie girl.

Tonight I'm heading for the Riverview.... in fuzzy socks and comfy shoes.

*Favorite lesbian. She really is... but the story of how we coined the term is just too long.


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2 Response to "a night at the guthrie (lucky me!!!)"

  1. Pat says:
    February 23, 2008 at 11:18 AM

    You do these kinds of posts really well - I can always vividly imagine myself there, going through the same experience. (I can especially relate to the gorgeous-but-painful shoes. Been there, done that!)
    Nice job, as usual.

  2. Nayana Anthony says:
    February 23, 2008 at 7:53 PM

    Well, thank you, Pat! I think part of the difficulty is that I rarely wear those kinds of shoes, so I probably don't have the necessary calluses.

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