Wednesday, May 9, 2012
We're looking down an alley near 2nd and Vignes. I used to drive to that area years ago because my headshot photographer had a studio there. Space was cheap and the light was good, but it was an iffy neighborhood and I always made sure to park where I could see my car from the big, bright studio windows. Now the area is artist lofts and condos.
John and I drove there (and parked safely) last weekend to see a play called The Last Day, written by Christina Joy Howard and directed by Tiger Reel. While exploring her relationship with her father, a daughter tells the story of her dad's experiences aiding the American exodus from Saigon during the last days of U.S. occupation. As with any brand new play, there are minor rough spots. But I do recommend this baby/puppy/sucker/world premiere.
I was young in 1975, but I remember those days. I attended protest marches not only with my friends but with my parents and teachers as well. Nobody I knew was happy about our occupation of Viet Nam. Now, with a more mature perspective, my emotions are more complex. Those were not good days, not proud days.
The author plays herself in the play. The night we attended, her father was in the audience. As emotional an experience as it was for me, I can only imagine what it was like for the two of them.