It was a mousse of some sort... or maybe a mash. But certainly it was savory! Or wait, perhaps it was sweet! Or both? There was garlic, it seemed... or might that be chive? And yes, there was also a sweetness. I was sure of it... or was I?
I stopped trying to guess whether it might be mousse or mash, and of what sort, when I was given a vial and invited to drink. And yes, it was surely wine, but with a heady floral note that roused such strange desires!
It was... curious.
Earlier, before the mousse or mash and the heady vial, there was the peculiar intimacy of eating a clementine with a stranger whose reflection I had become in a mirror that was not really a mirror. It was the only food whose flavors seemed true during my journey, but for just a tiny moment, I doubted the veracity of even that honest little citrus fruit.
I could not ask to be sure because the direction given to me had been clear--I was not to speak unless spoken to. I'm fairly certain that any questions would not have been directly answered anyway.
Who would I ask? Certainly not the Red Queen with her voracious gaze! Or the Mad Hatter with her quizzical speech! The White Queen looked upon me kindly, but her answer, I think, would be from tomorrow and not today! The elegant White Rabbit... well, he kept his secrets close! And Alice? She and herself were tangled in a taled web with the holder of the webbing quill!
And really, there was hardly time to stop and query. Even the tea party ran apace!
No matter. The former outpatients wing of the Greenpoint hospital seemed the perfect place to be out of sorts on a fall evening near Halloween.
I was expecting to be set a bit askew when I went to see Then She Fell. The ticket reminder said, "This performance is not recommended for audience members who are not comfortable standing, walking, or being alone." So, I was not surprised when LP and I were intentionally separated a few minutes into the prelude.
I was not, however, anticipating food and drinks to be part of the theatrical experience. But why ever not? Eating and drinking are an essential part of Lewis Carroll's tales. Then She Fell is an "immersive theatre experience" where there is no fourth wall and your gut is fair game (in more ways than one).
The gastronomy was quizzical from the start. During preshow, LP and I sipped a questionable dram. A table mate declared that it was an amaro, but his claim, at least to me, seemed presumptuous. It was only long after, that the nonsensical quality of the flavors made, well, sense. Of course the tastes of Wonderland and the looking-glass world are curious!
As LP noted later, the very act of eating or drinking during Then She Fell presented a strange immersion beyond the intrigue of the palate. Taking an edible offering from another person is an act deeply connected to your sense of trust--either for an individual person (like your mom or a friend) or for an expectation of place (such as in a restaurant or at an event).
In this case, there is no inherent trust for either the person (a performer playing a role) or the place (a theatrical "stage"). And yet, I trusted both and wanted so much to try everything offered--both for adventure and to please my hosts!
And yes, it felt as though the characters were hosts who wanted to show me a certain piece of their Wonderland reality. I was not to leave until I understood something critical about each of them.
Then She Fell is a phenomenal experience, partly because it is wildly intimate (similar to how I imagine Alice's adventures were). There is one-on-one interaction with beautiful and intriguing characters, and it is enrapturing, whether they are staring into your eyes or entangled with each other.
Go see it if you can, ladies and g's. The current run in Brooklyn is sold out, but the show is moving to a new venue in Manhattan at the end of December.
Lastly, I will say to you... have no fear of this immersive theatre experience. You will be well cared for and guided through the story. And you won't miss anything. LP and I had different experiences, but that made the show all the more interesting!
And, don't forget to eat the bon-bons!
I stopped trying to guess whether it might be mousse or mash, and of what sort, when I was given a vial and invited to drink. And yes, it was surely wine, but with a heady floral note that roused such strange desires!
It was... curious.
Earlier, before the mousse or mash and the heady vial, there was the peculiar intimacy of eating a clementine with a stranger whose reflection I had become in a mirror that was not really a mirror. It was the only food whose flavors seemed true during my journey, but for just a tiny moment, I doubted the veracity of even that honest little citrus fruit.
I could not ask to be sure because the direction given to me had been clear--I was not to speak unless spoken to. I'm fairly certain that any questions would not have been directly answered anyway.
Who would I ask? Certainly not the Red Queen with her voracious gaze! Or the Mad Hatter with her quizzical speech! The White Queen looked upon me kindly, but her answer, I think, would be from tomorrow and not today! The elegant White Rabbit... well, he kept his secrets close! And Alice? She and herself were tangled in a taled web with the holder of the webbing quill!
And really, there was hardly time to stop and query. Even the tea party ran apace!
No matter. The former outpatients wing of the Greenpoint hospital seemed the perfect place to be out of sorts on a fall evening near Halloween.
I was expecting to be set a bit askew when I went to see Then She Fell. The ticket reminder said, "This performance is not recommended for audience members who are not comfortable standing, walking, or being alone." So, I was not surprised when LP and I were intentionally separated a few minutes into the prelude.
I was not, however, anticipating food and drinks to be part of the theatrical experience. But why ever not? Eating and drinking are an essential part of Lewis Carroll's tales. Then She Fell is an "immersive theatre experience" where there is no fourth wall and your gut is fair game (in more ways than one).
The gastronomy was quizzical from the start. During preshow, LP and I sipped a questionable dram. A table mate declared that it was an amaro, but his claim, at least to me, seemed presumptuous. It was only long after, that the nonsensical quality of the flavors made, well, sense. Of course the tastes of Wonderland and the looking-glass world are curious!
As LP noted later, the very act of eating or drinking during Then She Fell presented a strange immersion beyond the intrigue of the palate. Taking an edible offering from another person is an act deeply connected to your sense of trust--either for an individual person (like your mom or a friend) or for an expectation of place (such as in a restaurant or at an event).
In this case, there is no inherent trust for either the person (a performer playing a role) or the place (a theatrical "stage"). And yet, I trusted both and wanted so much to try everything offered--both for adventure and to please my hosts!
And yes, it felt as though the characters were hosts who wanted to show me a certain piece of their Wonderland reality. I was not to leave until I understood something critical about each of them.
Then She Fell is a phenomenal experience, partly because it is wildly intimate (similar to how I imagine Alice's adventures were). There is one-on-one interaction with beautiful and intriguing characters, and it is enrapturing, whether they are staring into your eyes or entangled with each other.
Go see it if you can, ladies and g's. The current run in Brooklyn is sold out, but the show is moving to a new venue in Manhattan at the end of December.
Lastly, I will say to you... have no fear of this immersive theatre experience. You will be well cared for and guided through the story. And you won't miss anything. LP and I had different experiences, but that made the show all the more interesting!
And, don't forget to eat the bon-bons!
You'll have to tell Lena all about this. I'm sure she'd be brave enough, though not of age.
ReplyDeleteP.S. Last night was the Alice cast party. The funniest moment was when the vivacious Red Queen asked us all to give a hand to the one person without whom the play could not have occurred: C.S. Lewis.
:-)