Mary Panttaja

I might write more about this book later. It is a review of modern neurology research over the past 20 years and points to our power to affect our own neurology–and therefore, who we are in a primary way.

One fun thing for me is that the author, Jeffrey Schwartz, has worked with two of my favorite thinkers:

1. David Chalmers - philosopher at Australian National University (formerly at U of Arizona)
2. Henry Stapp - American physicist (Berkeley) specializing in quantum mechanics

If he should suddenly write that he also consults with Roger Penrose and Thubten Jinpa I would not be surprised.

We saw a production of “Our Town” by Thorton Wilder. Weirdly, it wasn’t until this morning that I really “got” what Wilder is pointing to—I must admit I am really slow about this realization. Even the structure and tenor of the play reflects the authors intentions. The whole thing produces a sense of disquiet (’I don’t get it’, sort of thing.)

It’s not that small town life is quaint and all the details are interesting—it’s that the people of that town weren’t really living or engaged in life but had somehow settled into their roles and minutia. No one was really looking. A few people noticed some things—the moon in all it’s glory one evening for example. They see a glimmer of life around them occasionally, but normally focus on the hard facts of their lives.

The play gets dismissed as being to quaint—but that is the point, they are living their idea of quaint. Of course, intellectually I could have told you that deceased Emily’s speech in the last act was the theme of the play—that they were not paying attention to their lives and they didn’t know it. But today I really get a sense of it. The thing that tripped me into this realization was that the characters aren’t engaged with each other in any real sense. They talk about the sorrows and troubles of the town drunk (played by Donohoe), but no one ever even speaks with him. Everyone talks about wanting to see what will happen to him naively assuming that they have no part in the evolution of the story. It’s not their role as written in the quaintness of their lives. And, of course, they are not bad sorts, just ignorant of the wealth of true possibilities. The subtlety of Wilder’s presentation is that we’re not quite sure why we are not very engaged with these characters for they seem of a normal sort. Just like us; maybe even less interesting than we are.
PS. Dan Danohoe played the town drunk with which he did wonderfully expressive things with the few scenes he was given. Anthony Heald was the Stage Manager and was equally wonderful—though the part is a little less interesting to me.

One of the challenging things about attending a “Shakespeare” Festival for over 20 years is that, well, you see a lot of Shakespeare productions. This is our 3rd Othello, though I only remember the last two. Both times the role of Iago, really the primary role of the play, was powered by one of two of my favorite actors at the Oregon Shakespeare Festival (OSH). Anthony Heald did the part last time as a small, wiry, irritable thing. Dan Donahoe, this year, was equally malevolent though he felt less damaged and more dangerous. Both actors have brilliant ranges from tragedy to the the lightest comedy (My earliest recolllections of Donahoe are of a shatteringly brilliant turn as the Waiter in “Rough Crossing”.)

When watching a familiar play (though familiarity for me is lessened by my traditional lack of good memory) I get caught up in performances and the leading roles last night were full of good craftsmanship. Iago, though, is the only deeply interesting role. Othello is tragically cursed; Desdemona is tragically innocent. They were played well, but are less interesting to watch evolve. But the role of Iago really gives an actor something to carve into, to sculpt, to embed with complexity.

Iago was frightening last night. Power embedded with evil going to the heart of real damage in the world—no accidental damage—everything is intentionally inflicted. Donahoe was quite thorough in showing all the ways an insightful person can construct destructive events. He was very aware of what Iago was doing and he showed us each spark of anger and pain that drove his intellectual commitment to destroying as many people as possible.

It’s always a joy to watch Donohoe work. It was interesting to see how his physicality has changed–partly an older body and face, partly a crafted look of tough bravado. Looking forward to seeing him in “Our Town” tonight—how different must that be? The company seems quite excited about their production of the Wilder play which has been produced in the outdoor Shakespearean theatre.

PS. Saw “Welcome Home, Jenny Sutter” this afternoon. A short play about a Marine coming home from Iraq and the broken self that she is reluctant to take home to her children. It was quite good—though we have some talking to do to come to our completed thoughts—the fun of watching a company and audience come to grips with a new play.

Goodness.

It’s been a long time since I have posted here. Where has the time gone?

Well, things have changed and we’ve been very busy: launching RebelVox, moving to SF, putting the Healdsburg house on the market for vacation rentals (Kokopelli Retreat), moving apartments (one last time), bicycling, studying sailing, and the usual keeping up. I have not been writing on either the novel or the book. But have been keeping some of that skill fresh writing patents (several dozens)—a total new venue for me.

We are taking a week of vacation finally—heading Monday to Ashland for our 9 plays in 5 days. A small group this time, only a dozen of us. All our kids are coming along. Erin and Tom, the theatre experts, get to really drown themselves. The rest of us just enjoy and explore our way through.

So we’ll see if I can manage to post some commentary about the plays this week. Hard to imagine—but maybe easier to do than I think. No promises.

On the reading theme—reading my daughter’s gift: The Open Road, The Global Journey of the Fourteenth Dalai Lama by an author she met in Boston, in preparation for our trip to Madison; and The Mind and the Brain (Schwartz, Begley) inspired by the story, book, and TED talk of Jill Bolte Taylor.

All is very very well.