I was at the Tony Awards!

As this post should begin...

I'd like to thank Playhouse Square (Stephanie Eames) for offering and arranging the trip; Gina Vernaci for the congratulatory call right before I left the hotel room to start this fantastic evening; the as-to-be anonymous gentleman who passed me a copy of the Playbill so I could have a tangible proof of my participation; the New York City Police Officer who was kind enough to take this tourist's picture with said playbill as I was leaving Radio City.

I've used the "(giddy laughter)" notation in several posts, but generally I'm able to restrain my actual giddy laughter to the privacy of my own home. Tonight, leaving the awards, I couldn't restrain myself: I giddily laughed, out loud, and in public. I think the people around me might have thought I was having a breakdown of some kind.

"If a civilian fills an empty seat next to you, please treat them as a member of your guild or union...or with respect. It is just temporary."

I was a seat filler: As seats emptied because talent was on stage -- or getting ready to be on stage -- they maneuvered us into position to make it appear that there was a full house for television audiences. Based on what little I had read I was prepared to be standing for most of the show. As luck would have it, I was assigned to the center section which meant I got a seat -- slightly obstructed view with television, lighting, and sound equipment directly in front of me (including both of the main cameras and the jib that took most of the flying shots) but a seat, center of the house no less.

When I was called to do my duty you couldn't have asked for a much better seat: Remember Leiv Schriber? I was in his seat, first row on the house center-left aisle for a fairly long time--I can't really remember what happened during that time, but once I watch the DVR of it I'll be more specific. Will and Jada Pinkett Smith were directly across the aisle from me... I remember seeing him do some toe-tapping. I also almost tripped Scarlett Johansson not once but twice (Sorry!) The house was [of course] full of celebrities -- including a fairly loud Jay-Z (one of the producers of Fela!)

One of PlayhouseSquare's marketing tags for the upcoming season is "There's No Substitute for The Real Thing", one of the presenters (this may have been before the telecast began) equivocated on how a performance on film is captured at 24 frames per second and repeatable infinitely, where as every performance in live theatre is unique ("A picture may be worth a thousand words, but a play is worth a thousand pictures"). Both of these sentiments I've long held -- stemming from my involvement in theater in high school where I saw how much variation performances of the same play could have based on the audience, props misfiring [there are no retakes], or actors "trying something a little different".

But tonight, with seeing the Tony Awards first-hand I can say that there is genuinely no substitute for seeing it live. I'm sure the CBS telecast was great -- and since you at home were probably not blinded by the intense strobe lights for Green Day's American Idiot, you may want to think that it was better. No: The energy in Radio City, the kensisis between audience and presenter the sheer wave of joy (or disappointment) that slid through each company's group as a winner was announced: You can't possibly feel that through a television set.

I fly home tomorrow; already this afternoon feels a million years away. This evening I hope will stick with me for a little while.

Update (June 15): I figured out that, assuming I have my celebs correct, the amazingly beautiful person I was seated next to for nearly an hour was none other than Ms. Naiomi Watts. (facepalm).

Lincoln

Trip to the Tonys: Day Two, Part One.

I'll admit it. Despite setting a total of three alarms for "early" I decided to sleep in a bit and didn't actually hit the streets until about 9:45 or so.

I mentioned yesterday that I managed to bungle up most of the pictures I tried taking in Central Park so I was going to try and re-take them this beautiful morning -- today, apparently, there is (was) a Puerto Rico day parade down 5th avenue, and in addition to throngs of people [and the greatest number of police officers I've ever seen in the same place at the same time], access to Central Park other than roadways was very difficult--access to the parts of Central Park I actually wanted to take photos of was impossible. I did notice, though, while in the park an odd desolation: I was virtually alone, the sun was out and the treed were green, but somewhere just beyond view there was a cacophony of city noises: Whistles, horns, music, yelling, cheering. To me that's more soothing than silence.

So I did the next best thing: I walked Central Park from the southern foot at 6th Avenue (a few quick blocks walk from the hotel at 59th) to the northern end at 110th and Malcolm X Boulevard. Snapping a few photos along the way and briefly considering a return visit to the Cooper-Hewitt National Design Museum [I think my favorite museum from my last trip], I hopped a 2 Train subway down to Times Square/42nd where I transferred to an R train to City Hall, another park that I grabbed a few wintry shots at. After that I took the R one stop further downtown--without looking at a map of exactly where I was going--and ended up at Wall Street.
Got out, wandered around the financial district a bit, stumbled upon the NYSE and then took the train uptown to Times Square.

I had planned on, at this point, returning to the hotel room and possibly catching a quick nap -- certainly getting off my feet for a little while (Had I done any planning at all, I probably would have thought to bring a pair of shoes more suitable for all terrain walking -- but as my internal compass hasn't fully adapted to New York, I made a wrong turn and from 7th avenue ended up on 8th Ave instead of 6th where I wanted to be.

So I walk a few blocks up 8th planning on hanging a quick turn and jaunt back to 6th [I hate walking past the same people on the street going different directions... they may not remember that I just waked by, but I feel kind of stupid when I do that...plus, I needed to get about 15 blocks uptown anyway] -- and stumbled across a restaurant that caught my eye.

So I stopped at Schnipper's and ordered a burger and cheese frys. It was good. I made a mess of myself eating it on the patio on the corner of 8th Ave and 41st, but it was good enough that I didn't care. (The sign above the register: "Hello! We serve good old-fashioned American food for New Yorkers and travelers alike. We don’t do fusion or foreign. We think happy is healthy. We think low stress is as important as low fat, and high-quality can be just as important as organic. While we respect places that serve precious, fussy food, we never wanted to be one of them." There's an attitude I dig)

And I walked back to hotel without further direction-finding incident where I am typing this now... and I think I will try for a quick nap before I have to take a shower and get ready to be at Radio City by 4:30. I did pass the International Center for Photography Museum just south of the hotel-- I'd like to check it out, but I think I'll save that for my next trip given time constraints: I'd hate to not enjoy it simply because I rushed through it.

Until later tonight... Photos can be found here

Lincoln

Trip to the Tonys: Day Won, Part Two: Fela! The Musical

I realized at some point this evening that I left out an important detail from Part One: Between the Frick Collection and the TKTS booth I did the Radio City Music Hall "stage door" tour. Unfourtunately this was during the time that my camera was charging in the hotel room an cell phone cameras were verbotten for some unclear reason. You'll see the Music Hall and Tony set tomorrow night on CBS -- the main lobby is an amazing volume of space, and of course, there is some interesting history in the building. For about $20 I'd reccommend it over the Empire State Building.

And thus we arrive at the ticket booth and by extention the show I saw tonight: Fela! The Musical. I took a risk with Fela! because I hadn't heard anything about it; it was a risk that didn't pay off -- perhaps ominously, Fela is playing directly across the street from the only musical I've ever walked out on; maybe West 49th isn't my street for theatre.

Unfourtunately it's a case of the sum of the parts being less than the whole: The set -- which spilled out into the entire theater -- was visually interesting; the correography was good. Lighting and visual effects were effective and probably my single favorite element. I really didn't care for the music--and it seemed like 2 hours of pretty much the same beat--but it was well played technically. I take no issues with the acting or the dancing.

The storyline stopped making sense to me after about twenty minutes, and the plot seemed confused. For example, Fela died in 1997 and [based on Wikipedia] was most active in the 60s-70s, yet references are made to Hati, AIG, the IMF and other anachronistic-just-to-make-a-political-statement insertions. In the end, I simply was not entertained*, motivated, inspired, or enlightened and it's not a show that I can envision myself seeing again.

"Lincoln," you may ask, "why did you buy a ticket without knowing anything about the show?" Fair question. When I arrived at Father Duffy square, I surveyed the board. Of the shows that caught my interest, I want to see Phantom of the Opera a second time, but it will be in PlayhouseSquare later this summer [I should probably buy a ticket, if I can, shouldn't I?]-- I really like the music from Next to Normal, but I have it to look forward to in PlayhouseSquare's next season, and while I enjoyed Avenue Q and In the Heights, I already know what those are about: I wanted something new. I had planned on Promises, Promises -- which was on the board when I got to the front of the line, but had sold out by the time I got to the window. So I blurted out the first name that came to mind: Fela.

No, I didn't know anything about the show before I bought my ticket, but I didn't know anything about Next To Normal either, and that's a show I enjoyed at the time and has really grown on me since then. In that case it was a gamble, that paid off. Such was not my luck with Fela... but there is no regret in trying something new.

Making a speedy exit during the curtain call, I walked back to the hotel via Rockefeller Center--another destination I missed on my first "real" visit to Manhattan back in January--and grabbed a few pictures of both the plaza and Radio City Music Hall. New York at night is a beautiful city. They aren't the greatest quality, but I've uploaded the ones that are at slightly in focus to Flickr.

And now it's time for a nice long nap before the big day. I'm quite excited at the moment.

Lincoln
*- I also wasn't amused that I was sold an obstructed view seat without it being disclosed as such.

Trip to the Tonys: Day Won, Part One.

I'm not entirely sure where my brain was going when I typed the subject--the odd spelling of one was entirely unintentional but it seemed apropos given the circumstances.

To recap for those watching at home: A little while back I entered PlayhouseSquare's contest for a trip to the Tony Awards in New York City--the live theatre industry's equivalent to film's Academy Awards or television's Golden Globes. I forgot about entering until I got a phone call congratulating me; they're taking care of the hotel room, the airfare, and of course the most imporant part: getting me into the event.

I am not a morning person, and the flight I was originally booked on seemed like a great idea -- leaving CAK at 5:40pm. At some point I realized that by the time I got to NY that would mean that it would be too late to do much on Saturday... then I realized that I had a HHonors certificate for a free night* that was due to expire this coming Tuesday... and there's a Hilton Garden Inn right across the streeet from the airport.

Fast forward, and after a night where I wasn't really inspired to sleep I find myself stumbling to the front of the line at 0-dark-25 this morning and asked if I might be able to change from the 5:30 PM to the 6:40 AM flight. To give you a general idea of my level of alertness, the agent asked "Emergency Exit Row: Window or Asile?" and my frist try at answering was "Yes, please." (about 20 seconds later I tried "Window, please." and that seemed to be the answer she was looking for as a boarding pass printed).

Shortly after 8AM I found my way to the bus stop outside of LaGuardia, MetroCard in hand -- I that long for a matinee, then made my way to Central Park.

When I was here in January -- the first time I spent any significant time on Manhattan -- I took some pictures of a leafless, snow-covered, and desolate Central Park -- with highs in the mid-teens, I couldn't say I was suprised. Needless to say, Central Park was anything but desolate today and it had a great energy with musicians, artists, famlies and just about anything else at play.

I thought it would be interesting to try to remember where the first set of pictures had been taken and take new ones 5 months later for contrast. Unfourtunately, the one battery I forgot to charge last night was my camera so I didn't get many -- and a few I forgot about the relatively slow shutter speed of my camera. But I charged it today and I might try again tomorrow before "the event"

Along the way I grabbed a quick hot dog and soda-- we'll call it brunch. NYC has no shortage of street side vendors of quality meat products.

Following my quick jaunt through the southern half of Central Park I back tracked down 5th Avenue to the Frick Collection -- one of the museums in the Cleveland Museum of Art's Reciprocal Membership program, and one that I didn't visit in January. I have to say I wasn't terribly impressed -- sometimes I forget how much the Cleveland Museum of Art's insightful label copy helps to understand the context of a particular piece -- and the art itself didn't really tug at any emotions. I did, however, pick up a copy of "Manners for Men" a reprint of an 1897 guidebook. I'm not sure if it's a good or bad thing that in the handful of pages I've thumbed so thus far I haven't really found anything that I'm not already doing yet.

Add a tinge of riding the subway just for the heck of it, a return to the TKTS booth -- trying for Promises, Promises but winding up with Fela! and a return to Burger Joint in Le Parker Meridian for my 3rd time**** -- it's no In-N-Out, but it's a pretty good burger.

And now I need to leave for Fela! So we'll (presumably) pick up with Part 2 later this evening.

Lincoln
* - It had just enough strings attached that I couldn't actually use it at any of the hotels I wanted to use it at.
** - It was like 8:45AM. Normally I'm not conscious before 9 on a weekend, cut me some slack.
*** - This is quite possibly the earliest I've checked into a hotel.
**** - Once for each visit to I've had to Manhattan wher I had time to my self.