I think it was Picasso who said that creativity is first of all an act of destruction.
A year ago today, a play destroyed me. Or rather, since I went to see it ten times, and then lied so that the library would let me watch it on tape one more time–> A year ago today, the play that destroyed me held its final live performance.
I’ll let everyone else love on Streetcar, Glass Menagerie and Cat. For me, Tennessee Williams created his masterpiece with The Two Character Play. And when Brad Dourif and Amanda Plummer made it theirs, it lived something so visceral, so true and so beautiful, it still pains me to think the playwright wasn’t able to experience the life they gave it.
Watching it, I remember feeling him inside it, hands shaking the bars, soul-seared. That play taught me what true writing was, and true acting. Devastation and beauty.
A year ago today. It terrifies me how much it’s affected me. It’s my greatest vulnerability, that play. As the old song goes, “Only love can break your heart.”