Writeup

First things first: theatre criticism's a job for writers whose second play didn't come up to scratch! (apologies Sir Tom). This is a personal account from Jerryboree '06 *. As some may know, I live in Australia, half a world away from just about everything. The December trip was my first ever grand expedition to North America. Ostensibly the purpose was to visit sundry relatives, explore some of America the Beautiful and Canada the Quite Pretty Too; to take in some of the culture and verve of the world's capital (mission accomplished), see a bit of a white Christmas (foiled by fossil fuels) and experience New Year's in NYC (masochistic fun). In addition to all this, one of the more anticipated highlights of the trip was meeting a bunch of like-minded eccentrics to see a play starring you know who. We'd started organising this from around September, even before tickets were out. Thanks to Ann, we'd booked our tix in pre-sales and scored sweet seats - centre orchestra rows K and F for Voyage and Shipwreck respectively. Four months of waiting, you can only imagine how psyched I was for this trip.

As most of us Jerryboreers were out-of-towners, we'd planned a full day of touristing before the show to get to know the city and each other. I met Kez at the hotel in the morning, for the mothership to judge whether it was safe to let her precious only child stay at Kez's house over the weekend. Safe (or not precious) enough. After the initial awkward meeting, breakfast and using Kez as a packmule, we headed off to the South Ferry Terminal. We'd arranged to catch the Staten ferry with everyone for a gander at Lady Liberty, but arrived just in time to wave at the boat pulling out of the dock. Turned out that only Kimiko and Tess made it on board - the two who had been to NY before, and who spent the time watching Jerry stuff on a portable DVD player! Off to a good start there. Anyway Kez and I hung about Battery Park taking silly photos, waiting for the ferry to return. Afterwards we went to pick up Casey who was waiting at their hotel, then met Ann at the pizza place across the road. It was interesting finally to meet these people we'd been corresponding with for months. Everyone was nice, with no nasty surprises of the axe-murderer internet predator sort although a few people were quieter or chattier than imagined. Kimiko brought photos from previous borees from back in the TRT days, which impressed everyone. I had nothing to show for myself though did bring random souvenirish things to do my country proud. Yep.

Conversation ranged from general meeting-strangers small talk to Jerrycentricity, as would be expected. Our group was split into the theatre vets and screen cadets, the former sharing war stories about previous shows they'd seen. I was overawed by their dedication, crisscrossing the Atlantic in Jerry's wake for more than a decade. My 1.5 years' worth of Ctrl-F-C-V and watching DVDs on loop were nothing in comparison. Quite a reassuring thought, really. Insanity is relative! Running jokes revolved around our Oriental flavour (5 to 3 on Saturday), whether Jerry would talk into her watch to summon the FBI at our approach, whether all of us would emerge with kidneys intact (re Internet Stranger Danger), and other such tongue-in-cheekness, mostly dictated by Kez's irreverent sense of humour. I amused myself considering what it'd mean for Jerry's fan demographic if we were a representative sample. Conclusions: Jerryatrics are more likely to be Asian (especially Filipina), female, Californian, tertiary-educated, aged 20+ or 45+, share some biographical similarities with Jez (eg. itinerant childhood), and have or had creative aspirations. One interesting trend was a background of non-nuclear families. Not quite sure what to infer from that.

After lunch we went to the American Museum of Natural History - chosen because we are geeks, and for its relative proximity to the LCT. I couldn't manage to concentrate as we wandered through the halls, being content with gawping at impressive exhibits like whales and gargantuan tree trunks and hideously huge insects. Far and away, the wackiest moment was when someone asked who else competed for the Tony the year Jerry won. Ever prepared, Tess whipped out her trusty portable DVD player with the interviews DVD pre-loaded! So there we huddled, watching Jerry's interviews and acceptance speeches. In the middle of a dinosaur exhibit. I wonder what other museum-goers made of our motley cluster of women intently peering at a 5 inch screen in front of Tyrannosaurus Rex. I had to pinch myself at the strangeness of it and wondered what Jez would've thought of the sight (mortified hilarity?).

The whole day was rather surreal, actually. The thing is that Jennite, shamelessly militant Jerry pot-banger, is not exactly the same person as self-doubting civilian Tez. The latter has just enough sanity to realise that this whole fandom thing borders on absurdity sometimes. It's not Jerry that's the problem, mind you. Both acting-wise and personally, she is made of awesome. P&P/Possession/Sunshine/etc + answering a zillion fan questions = semper fi fodder to the max, wot. Rather it's the concept of running a website about a fellow human being who's basically just doing her job super well. Behind the cover of an iBook it's easy to forget the craziness of it all, but confronting it in 3D was uncomfortable fer sure. There was an additional sense of disorientation on the day because I'd been in internet blackout for the preceding week, and for months previously had avoided too much exposure to Jez's interviews and work. Partly to suspend disbelief for the play, but also to avoid a fangirly "AAAHLIZZYBLUNKATMESIDEWAYSMUSTSEPPUKU" meltdown at the stagedoor. Not that much dignity remained after being thrown at Jez's feet in oh so many dorky ways! After this self-imposed exile, all of a sudden at the Jerryboree I found myself thrown back into this alternate universe. A culture shock to say the least.

Enough navel gazing and on with the faithful narrative. Once we'd escaped from the museum, we walked to Central Park where I spotted my first ever squirrel, and over to the Delacorte- another surreal experience as I'd read so much about it to the extent of knowing where to locate the stage door and toilets. We climbed up to Belvedere Castle and looked down at the Delacorte stage, while some Macbeth attendees recounted their experiences. Pretty knackered by that time, we headed over to Crumbs for a pit stop (delish btw, try it!). There we met Paul, who had contacted me at the last minute about joining our festivities. He turned out to be an affable chap and a major theatre buff - he'd come from the UK just to see a few Broadway shows. As he couldn't get sequential tix, he'd already seen Shipwreck and so was able to give us the dirt. We were all curious since it was only the 4th preview and there had been no word about it. Afterwards, we stopped by Kimiko's and Tess' place so they could pick up some warmer clothes and for a Valerie Moment. I managed to break the hotel toilet, the first in a long trail of plumbing destruction for the trip. It was almost time for the show by then - plus a guilty getaway - so off we walked to the LCT. We took numerous happy snaps in front of the sparkly blue-lit tree and fountain, as well as in front of the Utopia signs. Then into the lobby where we met Abi, another last-minute addition to our party. Immediately she was dubbed The Perfect Fan because she was cute, British, enthusiastic, chatty, sane (or so we thought!), blonde, and the kicker, wore NAIL POLISH! Oh on the LCT crowd - reports about the overwhelming elderliness and whiteness are spot on. The coughing thing is true too. My theory is that the tubercular paroxysms onstage reminds people of their own colds.

Ok, to the play. Ditch the NYT's college reading list, this is How NOT to Prepare for a Three-Hour Stoppard Play on Pre-Revolutionary Russians, Politics, Literature, Philosophy, History, Art, The Meaning of Life, The Universe and Everything. Months ahead, read the texts forwards, backwards and upside-down in the lotus position, venture into dark dense Isaiah-Berlin-land, and Wiki-skim Russian history. Immediately afterwards, let all the above be displaced by exam cramming. All the while, avoid poisioning your mind by posting copy-pasted reviews while reading as little of them as humanly possible. THEN turn up on the day on no sleep, and ten hours of tramping around Manhattan on one pizza slice and half a cupcake. This will guarantee that you spend the first act of said play with your mouth agape, gawking at the gorgeous sets and basking in the pretty music and giggling at the more obvious jokes while much of the rapidfire cerebral dialogue whistles gaily over your head. Such was my predicament on Saturday night for Voyage. Furthermore, as I'm a theatre virgin who didn't know a proscenium from a pogo stick two years ago, it took some time to accept these people enunciating loudly in Americanish accents as 19th century Russian intellectuals. Both the physical and vocal acting were more stylised and heightened, compared to the intimacy and realism of the screen. Sort of like opera when you're used to pop. Plus there are so many things going on at once, a bunch of people talking and moving, music, lights, costumes, sets, witty banter and ideas flying at a mile a minute. I'd find myself looking at the sets going "mmm pretty, how they do that?! - oops, what are people talking about now?" Overanalysing text I can do, but following all these channels was like juggling. I wished I had a remote control to pause and slo-mo some of the action, to scrutinise each bit at a time. Bring on Theatre TiVo!

Btw, someone asked me to weigh in on the homework debate. [It's a bit irrelevant now, but since I already typed up my opinion, here goes:] Methinks you don't need to swallow textbooks whole, though skimming the dramaturg's notes and maybe the LCT Review beforehand might help so you don't have to swot. Anyway, Utopia can be enjoyed on many levels that are equally valid- from getting all the historical injokes to just appreciating the humour and humanity of the play. Reading the texts aided comprehension but killed a few jokes and "Eureka, I get it!" moments for me. But overall, willingness to engage and keep your wits about you count more than any swotting. You can't expect to be passively entertained. I think it admirable that Utopia requires audiences to be nimble and present.

Mispreparation aside, the production was every bit as stunning as everyone's been saying. I don't even have the theatrical vocab to describe it. The opening sequence with Herzen doing The Thinker on the waves was jaw-dropping and the looming serfs were somehow striking and poignant. The flashbacky bits eg. Pushkin and Liubov's bonfire were particularly beautiful, dreamlike and distant. The show's been called cinematic - dead straight. You can hardly tell what the boundaries of the stage are; set changes are fluid and seamless without the artificiality of scene/act structure being perceptible- it seems perfectly logical that serfs run on carrying furniture for changes in location, for example. Other visual highlights include the hanging ice castle (St Baz's, iirc) and the skating rink...crazy genius abounds on this project, seriously. I'm still not sure whether that castle is some sort of projection or a physical object.

In Martha Plimpton's blog I think she quotes someone saying that it's the small shining moments in theatre that you remember, rather than the grand sweep of a play. That's certainly true for me. Before I'd thought that perhaps watching the play would help integrate the ideas and themes, the visuals and staging drawing threads together. In reality I found that you are drawn into the drama of the moment and have less thinking time, so that standing back to ponder the macro is more difficult rather than less. So don't even ask me what Voyage is about, thematically...what I've retained are images and impressions. Billy Crudup's performance as Belinsky stands out head and shoulders above the rest. His twitchy, nervy gaucheness was....well, Belinsky! His monologues about national literature and the relationship between art and society brought the house down, quite rightly. Passionate and delivered as if made up right there on the spot. Another great scene was with his mistress and subsequent showdown with Bakunin. Only one Belinsky bit seemed odd to me, that the scene where he collapses in shame over being unable to read a French manuscript was played for comedic effect.

I'd found Bakunin sort of irritating on the page, insufferably self-centred; Ethan Hawke's wild exuberance made him a deal more sympathetic. He's self-absorbed and he may have a childish malice, but it's so transparent you can't help but be charmed. Brian F. O'Byrne had had a few bad notices on forums and blogs that turned out to be unfounded- I was pleasantly surprised by his performance. When reading I had imagined Stephen Dillane playing Herzen with his deft light touch. BO'B played the irony more heavily, but I liked his conviction and gravitas. The accent is a bit weird but passes for aristocratic. Anyway, accents run the gamut from fully Brit (RE) to fully American (EH) and everything in between. At first I thought Jason Butler Harner's sing-song intonation kinda unnatural, but got to like it after a while. Now that I've read more about Turgenev - dreamer, watcher - I can't imagine how he could have played the part truer to the character.

As for Jerry, I was quite surprised at how she played Liubov. Reading the plays and reviews, I'd imagined a blend of Jane Bennet, Rosemary Leighton-Jones and Constance Wilde. In retrospect, that would have been a cliché - the resigned, quietly suffering lovesick consumptive - and moreover, hardly supported by the text. Instead, Jerry's Liubov was more yearning and conflicted, less retiring than expected. Certainly this made her 3D and layered, but it took some time resetting my mental image. Different emphasis is all, just like adjusting to VARenka (internal monologue kept protesting "VarENka"). I liked the addition of the line "who will love him and take care of him if not me?" in the scene between her and Varenka, that showed she had some inkling of the truth of the situation, that she knew Stankevich had doubts but loved him despite that. I have to mention that seeing Jez onstage for the first time evah was pretty damn cool though I made myself watch whoever was talking and not deathstare her the whole time. Oh one other thing- I'm sure other Jerryatrics will have picked up on the similarities between the Bennets and Bakunins.

The philosophy in Voyage was tough to grasp, even with pre-reading. I think I'm stuck somewhere in the 18th century - reason and rules and material proofs. It's only starting to sink in now, after some mulling. Belinsky's speech on Russian literature for example, is something about how reason doesn't give universal answers to questions about how to live... Er, I think. Don't get me wrong though, the play is not at all "Stoppard is all head, no heart" blahdiblah. While of course there are ideas aplenty, there's no shortage of laugh-out-loud moments ("no spunk!" was a deliberate joke, surely?! and "summerhouse" - bwaha) and family drama and love polygons. I found the second act easier to engage with- both on its own merits, and because I'd settled in more.

At the curtain call, I swear it looked like Jez was scanning the audience for us. Advance notice had been sent about the jamboree, to give her a fighting chance to flee or at least arm herself with bearspray when we stagedoored. Think we evaded detection despite not quite fitting in with the LCT demographic. Oh, in the audience we'd spotted an actress whose name eluded me at the time (turned out to be Marian Seldes of Deuce), as well as the playwright Himself a couple of seats down from her. In intermission Kez managed to buttonhole him and score a sig. I think we saw him every time we went to the show, which had us all star-struck. Actors are flesh and blood- Stoppard is half a library shelf from Shakespeare!

That night Jez left early, but we stuck round to see the other Utopians. Most of the cast showed. Ethan Hawke walked by us to talk to someone, signalling he'd be back, and true to his word he returned a bit later. Billy Crudup was a darling, suitably impressed by the distances we'd all travelled to come see the show (even "all the way from Westchester"). He looks completely different in his movies, probably due to that dashing tache. We also got sigs from Josh Hamilton and Martha Plimpton, both super friendly. I really wanted to tell her that I dug her blog, but couldn't work up the courage (though later sent her some pre-Tonys love via Myspace). So stagedooring was fun, even though I was again hit by the extreme "whose life is this??!" surreality of being there. Afterwards we headed to a cafe to discuss a bit. By that time I was ready to snooze standing so we didn't stay long, eventually making it back to Kez's place past 3am.

On the train to town the next day, we overheard two elderly ladies talking about Utopia. Nonchalantly (ie. with pomp and ceremony), I flicked open my Shipwreck text and Utopia Playbill. Kez went for the kill. She had a prolonged faux-coughing fit and flourished them with even more gusto. The ladies must have registered our subtle signalling because before we got off the train, they chatted to us about the show and we told them we on our way to see part 2. They had seen and greatly enjoyed Voyage.

The LCT felt like home, returning there less than twelve hours after leaving it the night before. It'd be safe to say I saw more of Russia and France than I did America in those first days. This time I was in a better state to appreciate the show, fortified by breakfast and at least a couple of hours' sleep. Moreover, it was the one part of the trilogy I had really really been looking forward to. I'd bought the text way back in July guessing that it would be playing in December, at that point not knowing Voyage would also be on, nor whether Jez was going to be a lead, serf or tree. It was the closest to my heart for being the first I'd read and because Jez had the best role. I'd found Natalie fascinating from the start, and had crossed fingers and toes that Jez would get to play her. What a showcase she is - passionate, intelligent, completely uncynical, nuanced, flawed, simultaneously a committed wife, mother and lover. She is the breath and blood of Shipwreck. And, um, Stoppardian red-head adulteresses with names ending in -ie haven't done Jez any harm in the past...! [post-Tonys PS: hehe yesssssssssssss] One of my many crackpot conspiracy theories is that Sir Tom wrote Natalie with Jez in the back of his mind, since TRT was on around the same time he was writing. The Lopate interview indicates that she was first choice for the London production, so maybe...

Anyway. Besides the Jezness, the play was more appealing in its concreteness. You could get some traction on it. In Voyage there was a lot of talk about the nature of reality and literature and progress and love, but it's just that. For example, there's hardly a single fully realised romantic relationship despite all the discussion about it, and people tackle social change in gardens. I found it hard to think in the abstract all the time. In contrast, ideas are lived to their extremes in Shipwreck; people live and die by them (though not necessarily the same people who champion them!). The interplay between the political and personal spheres is cool, how Herzen et al's ideals about political utopias run parallel with Natalie's ideals about communities of pure free love; both are shattered in the face of reality in all its complexity. Moreover the ideas in the play are more native to my ex-PoliSci brain. Reading Berlin's squeeful tributes to Herzen, I too had fallen for his humanism, his objection to the sacrifice of individuality to abstract distant goals ("the biography of an abstract noun" - gem of a phrase). Monomania vs pluralism, government by slogan, the failure of democracy and dictatorship of the majority, the tension between equality and liberty, whether democracy can be imposed from above - they all ring some bells, though Utopia is far from being a self-conscious Message Play.

With all this buildup, I was not a little afraid of being disappointed, particularly because it was so early in previews. That, however, allowed me to judge it with my own four eyes, unsullied by any reviews or spoilers. Well, not only were my stratospheric expectations met, but far exceeded. From the opening sequence, I was immediately swept away. Serfs shivering trees Birnam-Woodsishly, behind them red-dressed Natalie emerging with several of the other characters. Gorgeous setup, foreboding and lyrical at the same time, setting the mood for the whole play. I distinctly remember noticing that half the time I was either gaping slack-jawedly or accidentally holding my breath. Kept looking around to see if other people were similarly affected and was amazed that they weren't falling out of their chairs. The music, by the way, definitely deserves a Tony or something. From the stirring theme, to the songs that characters sing (eg the Italian servant's aria), to scene-change music, etc etc. The prologue still sends a kick of anticipation down the spine... here's one vote for a CD soundtrack of Utopia [postscript: wish granted! it is achingly beautiful btw, you MUST buy it!].

The outstanding moments for me were the scene with Natalie and Maria, and the confrontation between Natalie and Herzen. In the first one I liked how you're genuinely caught up in both sides of the argument - neither is presented as better or more correct, as opposed to some other debates that seem to promote a certain position. Maria's hedonistic, cynical view of love - "the musk of love" - is more familiar and hence appealing to the modern audience, methinks. Natalie's more naive belief in transcendent idealised love is a harder sell and a couple of times there were laughs at her expense eg. "utterly transportedly...but not really". I think Stoppard balances it up by giving Natalie the explanatory monologue, and last word- the killer tits and ass punchline! Performances from both Jerry and Amy Irving were absolutely cracking there. It was a joy seeing two actresses at the top of their game ripping chunks out of each other. You could tell AI was having a hell of a time. Her Maria was all jaded sexiness while Jez's Natalie had a sort of self-aware innocence....that's a bad way of putting it. I mean that while innocence is thought a characteristic of children and fools, Natalie's seems to be a deliberate choice of an intelligent woman, like reclaiming the state of grace sorta thing.

The monologue was done with the spotlight on Natalie, standing still, gazing up at the portrait...lightbulb much! Luminous and powerful. So THAT'S what "presence" means! Her delivery was well-paced and expressive so that even my jetlagged brain could follow the thread of thought, and it's not an easy one. It's summut about how art and love are the same expression of a universal ideal or exalted feeling, that something extra that can't be explained by reason...yo, read it for yourselves. Her perf there reminds me of the Charlie Rose discussion - a convergence of meaning, emotion and language. It was a different sort of brilliance from Billy Crudup's - a little more heightened, poetic praps, in the sense of rhythm and flow, like something from Shakespeare. "Super-real", to steal Josh Hamilton's phrase. Anyway, at the preview I was astonished that no one gave her exit applause - at the post-opening perf there was some, quite rightly. I for one was internally going "HUZZAH!". Incidentally I like her American accent, it allows more colour and musicality. All in all I still prefer screen-Jerry to stage-Jerry, mainly cos her facial expressions, which are the bomb (Most Eloquent Eyebrows in the East), are more effective onscreen. But you've got to see her onstage for that energy and presence. Also, I'd always thought physical acting was her forte - I'd watch her emote the phone book any day - but Utopia highlighted her verbal facility as well.


As for the Herzen-Natalie scene... Sure it's a set piece, the confrontation between the cuckolded husband and unfaithful wife. But as played by BO'B and Jerry, it was fresh and raw and taut and heartbreaking. Hold your breath for ten minutes straight sort of drama, with the same sort tension as with an overheard argument between those you love, like you should avert your eyes but can't bear to. The violence was stingingly electric and seemed so spontaneous that they truly seemed to be hurting each other. Natalie's breakdown and supplication, Herzen's apology and the collapse of his self-assurance, the escalation and unwinding, the shifting of power from one to the other... deeply moving stuff. A stunned silence followed it which I adored - the sound of a thousand-odd people reeling at the impact of the moment, not daring to move. I've had reservations about theatre, as it seems an undemocratic medium: pricey, metrocentric and elite. But those silences, they won me over. Immediacy and collective experience and all that jazz. Later Kimiko said she'd been moved to tears- I thought it was just me blinking excessively! "What strength I have I need for Alexander"...zomg.

As with the Maria/Natalie scene there was that same seesaw - you're torn between the characters and their arguments. Is Natalie right in living by her (and Herzen's!) free-love principles? Is his base jealousy justified? They're both understandable. I didn't like that the preview audience laughed at some of Natalie's evasions; I felt that they weren't delivered for laughs, because that would undercut the drama of the scene, and Natalie's ideals were as deeply felt and lived as Herzen's. It's strange that some reviewers described Natalie as "self-serving" or "shrewd", which I don't see at all. Blinkered by her ideals, over-steeped in George Sand and co for sure, but I believe her when she says there's no egoism in her love. On second thought, perhaps the laughs were intentional, because later on when she says "think too what I have lost", the audience is shamed by its cynicism. Eh I may just have a soft spot for Natalie! A tiny gestural moment I thought was pure genius was when Herzen's foot is entangled in Natalie's dress - he kicks it off with such violence and anger and bitterness. Long before I was a spectator I was a reader, and I'd always secretly wondered what actors and directors did that could add to the inner world created between writer and reader. Well, now I know, a hella lot! Oh let me wax lyrical a moment on the brilliance of "I have lost...my purchase on my life" instead of "grip"...grip implies clutching, grasping, sweaty hands. Purchase is like a trolley going off the tracks accidentally, from neglect. Beaut.

Another small scene I really liked was one that MP and Jerry share. The directions from my edition of the text goes "Natalie and Natasha are in a state of ecstatic, romantic friendship in which everything is joyous or hilarious or soulful". On the page it's hard to imagine; they make it compeletely believable. They're like puppies, playful and full of joie de vivre, adorable. Also, Natalie's reaction to Kolya's death was another of those don't-breathe heartrending moments. Made me wonder if that tapped into some dark midnight fears...though acting probably doesn't work like that. I hope not, at least.

What's a Shipwreck report without mention of a certain midday meal on the grass? It's incredibly beautiful, staged just like the painting. The deshabillee thing wasn't a big deal. Someone commented astutely that it was probably not an issue because it wasn't sexual (cf TCL praps). Anyway it was very tasteful and artistic, and in character. Even crucial to the role - it's one of the reasons why I see Natalie as a misguided idealist in love with love rather than self-serving unfaithful wife; for her it's a form of giving. This was a way of expressing that visually, I guess. Alright so I pointedly stared into people's faces to avoid TMI! But really, it was handled with class. The crossfire-dialogue was cool, another example of how the spoken word transcends the written.

Other highlights include David Pittu's pompous French and soulful Italian servants, both memorable (he was great in Voyage as well), as was Bianca Amato's touching Emma Herwegh. Richard Easton's diplomat was well received, with his constant springing to attention, and David Harbour was very funny as the "apathetic" failed revolutionary George Herwegh. I also liked the "pink canary" guy....in fact all the supporting parts are well-acted. Another image that sticks in my mind is Bakunin waving the enormous red banner circling the stage. How do they make fabric look like something living I do not know. Herzen's speech about the death of a child, on the empty black stage, was also one of those deep-silence, spine-shivering moments. That speech kills me. As well, I enjoyed seeing the maturation of the other characters, particularly Bakunin and Belinsky. Belinsky in Shipwreck has gained a measure of self-confidence, though I missed some of his earlier cute gawkiness. Bakunin is no longer a child but a strapping teenager, testing out his newfound power.

I'm rather proud to have lead the applause for the Place de la Concorde set- that's the one with horse-topped columns that look like they're extending into the distance by some perspective trick. I'm still not sure if the Beaumont stage is gigantic or they just managed to make it look so. Either way, mad props (ho) to the designers! The Delacroix revolt tableau thing with the singing Mariane and full-sized wagon with bleeding people strewn atop was mighty impressive as well. All those overused adjectives are justified - sweeping, epic, etc etc. I think CoU has spoiled me for life- its impossible production quality is now the standard to beat! I didn't want it to end. As soon as the scene changed to Nice my internal monologue wailed "noooooo not yet" because that meant curtains were nigh.

At the closing, we all standing-ovationed Jerry (she should thank buddha we omitted the high kicks!). I came down with a sudden attack of bashfulness so applauded while studying my shoes. Row F is unnervingly close to the stage. The O was richly deserved though, and sincerely meant. It would've felt wrong the previous night, since that was more of an ensemble with BC heading the pack, whereas Jez and BO'B totally owned Shipwreck. A handful of other people also stood, though I was surprised there weren't more. As we were leaving our seats, I overheard an elderly French couple complaining about the show and couldn't believe my ears. Dunno what show they were watching!

Out of the two plays, I'd definitely recommend Shipwreck. The story is linear, hence easier to follow, and there's more emotional payoff. I didn't really like Salvage when I skim-read it, mainly because I'm too attached to the characters and don't want to see them disenchanted and brushed aside by the new generation. But now, after hearing more about it I'm very sad I missed it since it's apparently so different from the other two. Would've been nice to see how it ended, and to see Jez in her most against-type role of the trilogy and MP and Josh Hamilton in bigger parts. I forgot to say, I really dug JH- he converses naturally in Stoppardian (and is dead cute).

This time we'd found the speedier route to the stagedoor via the box office. Turned out we were a bit early for Jez so we loitered around a bit, quite oblivious to the procession of illustrious thesps passing before us. I was afraid I'd be a quivering lump of jelly at the stage door, or worse, be in that awful tabloidy frame of mind, all scrutiny and detachment. Luckily not. I was in the perfect state from the zen zonkedness of 6 hours' sleep in 3 days (= modicum of calm) combined with the belly-tickling spark of WAHOO! from the fabulousness of the play. My Jerry faith had just been validated and renewed exponentially, and the whole show had blown my expectations out of the water. It was just a heart-swellingingly wonderful evening of theatre, being moved and entertained and made to think.

As soon as Jerry emerged Bez jumped in, getting her Utopia texts signed. Jez stepped aside for a word with her friend, then I believe Ann or Kimiko approached. Jerry was all ease and friendliness, chilled out and unfazed by the gang. No bearspray visible. I hung at the back of the group to let the others get their Jerrytime (and because I'm poultry poo); thanks to sleepless zen it was just sort of like "duuude, she's human- cool, who'da thunk". Of course her mere-mortality had been part of the attraction from the beginning - she's not one of your "I said EVIAN, minions!!" divas, in fact the polar opposite. But twas nice to have it confirmed first-hand. Yo, she breathes air just like us plebs! Due to continued shoe-inspecting I only vaguely registered she was wearing something black and carried a humungo bag. One thing that's funny in retrospect is that stagedoor-Jez and the weeping, screaming character who'd blown our minds onstage ten minutes ago seemed hardly connected. How do you go from "my child is dead, my world explodes with grief" to "hm must get milk"?! The actor's art I guess. Extraordinary, to this layman.

I missed some of what was said, only coming into the main group when Ann and the others kindly yoinked me up front. After dying a little of embarrassment, I resurrected sufficiently to stick out my hand for a businesslike handshake that was turned into a hug. Afterwards I believe Jez asked what we'd thought of the show and I erupted with "it was AMAAAAAAAAYZANG" and "I was BLOWN AWAY!111!1!!!!!". Articulate-like. Fair dinkum though, it was awesome. I think I must've been grinning my face off. Still was in the throes of bashfulness however and hardly even looked Jez in the eye, which I've learnt is a common disability among us Jerryatrics. Luckily Ann saved the day with pleasant chat that kept things nice and casual. Topics of conversation included: West End vs Broadway versions of TRT, a recent edit to the monologue by Sir Tom, whether doing different characters on one day would be hard (no, they're unconfusable like breakfast and lunch), whether the other actors were jealous that she had a "fan convention"of 7 people coming to see her, the pleasures of working with a living playwright, and about the others going to see the marathon. Oh and "not-crazy" Kez managed to have a few hilarious misunderstandings. We all got sigs as per stagedoor protocol, and Mr Papa Bez snapped pics for us throughout. I thought it went well overall, no one had to be picked up with a spoon.

Once Jez left we loitered around a little while longer to give her escape time, taking photos of the wall portraits of the leads and such, and beaming at each other. Then off to dinner at an Irish pub (Casey's shout- owe ya!) where we post-mortemed the play. It was sad thinking that this might be the last time I'd see some of these guys just as we were starting to thaw. Jez fans are great- borees are highly recommended, whether for Jez-related stuff or not.

On the Monday, Casey, Tess and I fulfulled our touristic duty, doing the Gray Line double-decker thing. We saw a lot of the sights, but mostly it was nice getting to know them more as conversation moved away from Jerrycentricity. At Macy's we went into the Christmas exhibit, which somehow ended up with us in Santa's lap! So yep, the three of us - aged 30 on average - had a photo with Saint Nick. When he asked for our Christmas wishes, the first thing that popped to mind was more tix to Utopia. Santa not only knew what it was but commented that I'd be sitting there for awhile, wasn't it like 20 hours long or something? As always I was tickled and a bit surprised to find that people outside of our insular little Jerryland knew about Utopia. Somehow I always assume that Jez projects are obscure despite all evidence to the contrary. Of course CoU is the talk of NY, with all that media coverage and posters everywhere, including backs of buses. Always smiled to myself whenever I passed one.

Several weeks of breaking toilets around North America passed before my return to NY. The day Shipwreck opened, I was eagerly poring over my copy of the NY Times in Boston, pleased as punch to see Jez on the front cover of the Arts section alongside the rave review. The rest of my travels were a blast - some highlights were roadtripping Canada with my uncle and Mama Tez, booking a hotel in the wrong country (Niagara is in Ontario AND New York- who knew!), first turkey Christmas, first Norwegian Christmas dinner, first ever Asian yuppie partay (and first tequila), playing with family friends' kiddies, skiing on fake snow, walking Boston, having my French understood by a Quebecois, kosher soup eaten outdoors like refugees, and much more.

On Dec 29th Abigail, Kerry and I went to Shipwreck again on student tickets, cos we wanted to see what it was like out of previews. There was a bit of uncertainty as my ticket was a smidge illegit so I was only sure of my seat about half an hour before it started. Before the show we got a glimpse backstage since the side door was wide open, which we casually sidled past- several times, hehe. Saw those tall lamps and trees and possibly some mannequin-serfs.

I'd made the mistake of walking around Central Park all day again (such a gorgeous blue day though!), so was already knackered by 8pm and thus a little less engaged this time. There were a few differences I noticed. People seemed to speak more slowly and clearly; a few lines were changed, spelling things out a bit more, plus it was funnier. Maybe due to the line changes and/or a few more gestural comic flourishes and timing. I don't think "Woman Astride Bidet" was there the first time. Also the audience responded more like I expected, laughing and going quiet at the right bits. Not sure if that's because of the different audience demographics post-opening (Stoppard fans vs cantankerous subscribers) or because the pacing or staging changed. Somehow the scene where Natalie finds out about the accident that's killed her son had an even greater impact on me this time, can't say why either. It's chilling. What else...I think there was an extra kiss between Natalie and George.

I was sitting in the very front row of the orchestra on the right, while Kez & Bez were towards the back. Quite a different view. You could see the artifice a little more, moustache glue and fake smoke and revolving stages and actors climbing offstage an arm's length away. Also, I saw a lot of profiles and people's backs. I think the impact of the confrontation scene was lessened for me because half the time I couldn't even see Jerry's face! Felt self-conscious sitting so close- ridiculous really, since the actors are the ones onstage baring their souls and whatnot. On the plus side, when they were facing us, you could see every expression clear as day. There was a larger standing ovation this time.

Was a bit hesitant to stagedoor, cos it felt like an ambush. But decided not to be such a wuss, especially since I was buzzed from the show again. Oh forgot to mention, Berry also met her evil twin that night. Berry had searched for her own name on Facebook and found Berry #2. Not only did they share the exact same name but, get this, Berry #2 had also seen Utopia and was also a P&P fan. What are the chances? I think someone eventually told this story confusedly to Jez.

The stage door was comfier this time because there was more activity- people streamed past patting Jerry on the back and complimenting her performance. We were exceedingly proud and felt like going "we TOLD you she was made of awesome!!". The pot-banging recruitment reflex almost kicked in - I was sorely tempted to holler "HER NAME dot BLOGSPOT dot COM" but sanity prevailed. Jez came out the door beaming over a birthday card from the circus. Almost at once she was accosted by Hat Guy who demanded autographs rather pushily, saying he'd tried stagedooring her several times at different plays and missed her. It was funny to see her politewth smile while he took numerous photos of her. "Emotional transparency" Brantley called it, right? Feeling badly for Jerry being paparazzo'd, I whispered to the ether that she should pull a face for the camera...heh. Um, sorry, Hat Guy. A couple more people were there for her, so we waited our turn. There was Katurian, the BroadwayWorld chick whose photo with Jerry was posted earlier. Also Ivy Guy who said he was a theatre/lit student at Harvard (Cornell alum Kez scoffed) and had been greatly looking forwards to the plays. I think Hat Guy came again afterwards and asked for a photo WITH her this time, and they talked a bit. All the while Kez, Bez and I stood aside chilling and joshing with each other. It felt good to be giving something to Jez for once, instead of asking for autographs and such.

Finally, three-wise-men-esquely we lined up to hand over our pressies. First was Bez, who gave her pink and white roses which she'd bought before the show. She'd had to borrow my bag for spare ice skating clothes to hide the flowers during the play, so it looked like a bazooka, and I had to stuff my extra pants into a plastic bag. What a sight we made - terrorist and derelicte chic. Next king from the east was Kez. Her offering was a Prosecco with a clever custom back label that incorporated names of Jerry's movies and such. After the wine and flowers, mine had to be something totally random, in the same Weird Australian Stuff vein as last year. I apologetically proffered an acapella children's CD (3rd one) with holey wrapping. The rationale was that Jerry = mother of toddler = needs kids music that isn't too soul-crushingly annoying. Er. Anyway, Jez was sweetly surprised and gave us each increasingly package-laden one-armed hugs. For some reason I recall yabbering about General Ford's discourtesy in dying just when I was in Washington DC. Apparently Jerry's mere presence triggers obscure lameness reflexes - she should carry a warning sticker! After that we went off to a cafe; Kez was hyper but Bez and I were ready to crash.

Besides Utopia, there was more Jerryness on my trip as well, some deliberate, some accidental. Deliberate was the foray into the Library for the Performing Arts, conveniently located next door to the Vivian Beaumont, to watch The Real Thing on video**. I'm so glad I jettisoned my "this is SOOO SO NERDY" qualms and went to see it. It was easier to engage with than CoU due to the modern dialogue and more human, emotional focus. Months on, I find that phrases from the play are still sloshing around and I'm still thinking over the questions it poses, namely wot is the real thing? TRT is now second only to P&P in terms of humour and feeling (Shipwreck has also shot to the top 3). Natalie surpasses Annie though, since TRT really is Henry's play. I also preferred TRT's funnies to CoU's, it stems from the characters' wittiness while in CoU sometimes the characters themselves are the butt of jokes, which is a little distancing. There were interesting parallels between TRT and Shipwreck as well. There's the sex vs love theme, the adultery thing, the egoism in love thing, the value of literature, etc. Someone needs to do an interview with Jez about Utopia and the role of women in the plays, her different characters, the similarities and differences between this and TRT, Stoppardia in general, compared and contrast Utopia and Sunshine and Summerfolk, the Utopia ensemble experience vs RSC rep, etc. Come on Charlie Rose, one for the team! None of this "did you grow up in England" business. It's called Google, people! Sorry, off the soapbox.

Other Jerryness included the enormous package of clippings that a long-time fan had sent me via Boston. Again I was humbled at the dedication it represented. To think that this fat bundle of hardcopy had been meticulously collected across oceans from countless people, transcribed and scanned BY HAND over a decade. Now that is the real deal. Makes me feel like the whippersnapper flash in a pan I am. Go over to the fansite, read everything, and prostrate yourselves before the enormous amount of work that went into it. I had the chance to chat with said fan over the phone, with many warm fuzzies exchanged.

Kez and I also went to see Vertical Hour which stars Julianne Moore and Bill Nighy (Jerry's The Maitlands colleague bien sur). We kept elbowing each other throughout the play whispering ISN'T BILL JUST THE BOMB I WUV HIM! It was definitely worth a look on its own (especially with half-price tix at tkts) as well as a companion to Utopia- I thought the free love and political themes discussed went well with Shipwreck. After the show, because it was right there, we decided to stagedoor. It was quite stagemanaged and crowded yet oddly all the more comfortable because of that, as it catered for us barbarian hordes. In contrast, at the LCT you have to flag down passing talent so you feel more like an intrusive dorkus. Kez name-dropped The Maitlands when chatting to BN - he was astonished and wanted to shake her hand for it! He asked how she'd seen it. She said a "friend of hers" was a Jerry fan and had the tape, mentioned that Jerry was in Utopia at the LCT, and told him he should see it. She also said that she expected Tonys from both him and Jez [PS: good call Kez!]. On my end I just said I'd come all the way from Australia to see him....and see New York, and America, hehe. He noticed a camera in my hand which I'd forgotten and asked me if I wanted a photo - check out the familial resemblance.

As for accidental Jerryness, I discovered two days before departure that my hotel (Carter aka the seediest, ex-strip club, death-trap excuse for accomodation) was NEXT DOOR to the American Airlines Theatre where Design for Living had been staged. Also, Mama Tez and I went to see Company (novel staging, well sung and funny, even if it pushed all my dying-alone cat-lady buttons) which was playing in none other than the Barrymore, where The Real Thing had its Broadway run. Then there was the encounter with Rosemary Harris' photo in the Library for the Performing Arts lobby which made me do a physical double-take as I rushed out after TRT.

So, conclusions. Definitely one of my most interesting hols ever. I'd expected it all to be about discovering places, but rather it was the people and experiences that made it rich. It was an immense privilege being able to CoU- it's funny to think that the cast can't watch the thing themselves except on tape. They're probably the only ones left in Manhattan who haven't seen it! For me, the sense of privilege is magnified because the improbability of it all is astounding. To have wangled a trip to NY from across the world, just at the right time to catch a lavish staging of such a unique, ambitious, challenging Stoppard play by such a committed, passionate and talented company, with a bunch of kindred spirits. And of course, to have seen my favouritest actrice in TWO roles worthy of her talents, in which she gave searingly poignant performances. In short, unbelievable, undeserved good luck. I didn't dare hope for a Tony nomination, let alone a win...I thought happy endings didn't happen in real life!!

I'm already nostalgic. Utopia is no more! Where is the play when it's been played?! (the NYPL archives in fact, but meh). I know I'll revisit CoU many a time in the future as the text offers much to ponder and learn - I don't think I've grasped the whole arc of the trilogy yet - and the play becomes all the richer with further background reading, vice versa as well. Already it's lead me to Eugene Onegin, which was unexpectedly funny and modern. I may have been converted into a theatregoer. I counted, and I've seen and read more plays in the last year than in the 20 preceding! The beautiful thing about theatre is that it's not anonymous like going to the movies, it's a landmark event that lives in people's memories. The strains of Coast of Utopia's prologue will forever evoke my first trip to America at not one and twenty, and all I learned, and all the people I met. I also love that Utopia has been folded into the fabric of Jerry fandom. Summer lightning and ginger cats and words staggering after and life's bounty...they have been internalised, become part of our lexicon. It sounds ridiculous, but surely we bloggers were as close as one could get to total immersion in Utopia without actually being on the LCT payroll, following its fate from day to day, even hour to hour sometimes as when the news of Richard Easton's collapse broke.

This seems as good a time as any to reflect on the past 2 years of Jez-blogging. At the start I had some premonition that things would snowball, but never would I have imagined this astonishing trajectory. In essence the blog is simply human-filtering of news- we could be made redundant by a halfwit searchbot! Who would have known it would lead to such richness and complexity. This self-appointed role has encompassed everything from tech geekery to public relations to quasi journalism, and I've experienced both the joys and perils of it.

So much has happened over the course of the blog's existence. With ever-growing admiration for her work, my perspective on Jerry has evolved from initial awestruck idolisation to seeing her as a multifaceted human being. I respect the unknown, the vast chasms in our understanding of her. What started as an intense curiosity has, thank zeus, cooled down significantly. The blog has become an end in itself and its management routine. It's outgrown me - others have blood, sweat and RSI invested in it now. Its scope has grown beyond strict Jezness.

In the life of the blog and especially during this trip, friendships have been created and cemented. For one, meeting up with Bez at the last minute snagged us a brand new shiny go-getting fan and blogger! Though Jerry-glue was what drew us together, and though her work remains a common frame of reference and is part of our lore, these friendships now stand independently. Whatever the uncomfortable aspects of fandom are, the wee community derived from it far outweighs them. Indeed, it's not so much about hero-worship as it is a watering hole for birds of a feather. Certain types of people are drawn to Jez's work. I love that despite our vast differences in things like politics and religion, we've managed to form a tiny virtual utopia of our own.

Chelsea deserves a special shout out here. Perhaps it's not obvious, but she has been crucial to the survival of the blog. She posted almost every week from Sept 05 til Feb 07, doing double duty when I was away- even when that meant daily posting. Wasn't joking when I said the blog would've died long ago without her. Our loyalty to each other made us stick at it, even in the stultifying droughts when a keyring on eBay amounted to news. In the blog and beyond, she's been a moral compass, sounding board, reassurance in doubt, squee-multiplier in excitement, a sympathetic ear for rants and dumb jokes.

Since I started writing this crazy-long account months ago, much has flickered and changed. I decided a while back that I'd take my (dis)honourable discharge and return to civilian life after the Tonys. The reasons for this, too, have shifted. Blogsistential angst, life stuff, quarter life crisis. The last and best reason is that, simply, it's time. My work is done. I'd always intended to leave once the blog could stand without me, and in Kate and Abi I have been blessed in finding dedicated, witty, thoughtful, enterprising successors. There has been a gradual transition over the past few months, and if you haven't noticed, that's a testament to how they well they are doing their jobs. Kate handled the Tonys madness all by herself, after only a few weeks' training, since both Abi and I were out of action from exams and tech disasters. I trust them with my baby wholeheartedly, and have full confidence the blog will flourish in their hands. I also trust in their discretion in dealing with ethical and privacy issues, which are of utmost importance since the blog wields some power as the hub of information on Jerry. Indeed, they have more finely tuned instincts than my own, which have lead me to repeated facepalm-idiotic choices.

Another reason I realised, in the Tonys euphoria, is that I can't imagine how it could get any better than this. No doubt Jerry will scale further glorious heights, but for me as a fan and blogger, Utopia was the zenith. Blog-wise, there was such a wealth of material, multimedia, opinion (mostly positive, with so much love for Jerry), and privileged glimpses backstage in the form of the LCT blog and Martha Plimpton's. As a fan, well. I crossed the ocean and saw Jerry give an electrifying performance in a towering work of art made flesh that will reverberate in many people's lives, and met her in person and she was every bit as lovely as imagined, and experienced the heart-in-mouth anticipation of the Tony nominations, and at her surprise victory pounded my keyboard in week-long spazzout celebration alongside dear friends. It's just a big fat warm fuzzy ball of delicious chocolatey perfection, dipped in chocolate, tied up with a ginormous bow. Made of chocolate.

All the ambitions I had for the blog are at least partly fulfilled. One was to raise awareness of Jez's return from hibernation and on that count it's been fairly successful. We've built a small but visible profile (2nd on Google at one point, woot) and now have a steady influx of readers. Instead of having to beg for news, we now have sufficient traction that unsolicited tips are starting to come in. I am proud that we have kept up our commitment to thorough coverage of Jerry's work since TPS, on several occasions even breaking news before it reached the mass media. Helping chronicle the tremendous event that was Utopia was particularly gratifying, and maybe we even contributed to putting a few bums in seats. Ours was the only fan community game enough to be swept along with Coast - pat yourselves on the back, comrades! I know that lots of people, including moi, have become Utopia buffs and not just because she's in it. I love how following Jez's work has thrown a bone of randomness into my life and lead to all sorts of domains, from Stoppard to Byatt to oddball Brit TV.

I'm also proud of the interview - I think we managed a higher good-to-duh question ratio than many a press interview. Pat yourselves on the back again, folks! I only regret that many newcomers missed the opportunity to participate as it happened before the blog's profile peaked, also because I set a one-week deadline for questions, thinking time was of the essence. It all seemed too good to be true. What a mad week, you'll notice that at least one question is repeated due to insomniac delirium! The revival of the back-catalogue library is another achievement. A good number of people have been able to see some of Jerry's work that otherwise would have been mouldering on dusty shelves. All credit goes to those who painstakingly collected the videos and then had them converted to DVD, gratis no less.

Indeed throughout I've been touched by the kindness of acquaintances. Everything from tips sent in, sharing of photos and reports, offers of financial assistance, copying and posting stuff across continents, shoutouts and linkage from other sites...it has all been greatly appreciated. Not to be undervalued either are the notes of encouragement received from time to time from readers; they provided needed morale boosts. It's not an exaggeration to say I'm less cynical now because of all this quid pro nothing. As for Jez herself, given her renown for privacy and self-effacement, I wager she'd prefer not to have an almost-daily rag with her career under the microscope. She could've gotten mediaeval on our arsenal but instead her generosity and tolerance have been unprecedented. In person she was unfailingly kind in the face of my gracelessness. Revisiting El Entrevue for the first time in forever, I was again touched by her candour, insight and humour, not to mention awed by the sheer amount of time and effort it represented. So, basically, my firstborn will have to be named Meysenbug in her honour, regardless of gender. Dangit. My keyboard (> pen > sword) is hers should she ever decide to run for office or the like. Jez for Prez!

Congrats to all 3 of you who've made it to the end of this hideously long self-indulgent report. Alright, time to put this beast to bed and end this narrative - confession? - as it turns out, not only about Jerryboree 06 but also the whole tempestuous voyage (g-roan). The blog been a constant while so much has shifted - in two years I've moved out of home, changed city, and made a radical about-face in career direction. Although I'm hanging up my blog boots, semper fi still holds. I eagerly anticipate the arrival of P&G and Before the Rains and whatever post-zinnias project emerges, and am looking forwards to enjoying Abi and Kate's work from the lazy side.

*Jerry = Jennifer Ehle, of course. Look at this story for the provenance of -erry nicknames. Other names: Kerry = Bearspray/Kez/Kez, me = Tina/Terry/Tez, Abigail = Abi/Berry/Bez, Chelsea = Chels/Cherry/Chez, Kate = Wez. As for "Jerryboree" - it was the naffest possible name I could think of for the occasion.

**Instructions: do the Access Card signup online. At the library, pass through security, go up to the 3rd floor and check in your coats and bags. You're allowed to bring in a notepad and pen etc. Pass through security again and go to the desk to ask where to get your Access Card; they'll direct you to the copy room where your student/academic ID will be checked and your picture taken for the card. Then go to the computer banks and look up "Jennifer Ehle" in CATNYP, click on The Real Thing, and fill out a request form with the call number etc (NCOV2442) then bring your slip to the theatre desk, where they'll direct you to the viewing room. Present your request slip there and they'll give you another form to fill out and also ask for your academic or industry reasons for seeing the tape. They'll direct you to a station, where you'll have to wait a few minutes for the tape to be selected. On the computer screen there's a red control console, press play (don't be a knob like me and sit there for 20 minutes waiting for it to start automatically! duhhh) and put on your headphones. Enjoy! Complicated but worth it.