Exquisite Silence
I recall the first time
we were enfolded
by the fabled acoustics
of this extraordinary place
called Ordway.
Panels of glass
pressed out against
the box of night air.
No visual distractions here,
icy interior, cathedral
of beige and frost.
Lights lowered. There
was applause. Then
the mime, most famous
in all the world, came
out from the velvety blackness
into the lemon-hot spotlight
and took us all in,
his expressive eyes,
piloting the changeable
moon
of his white face.
We could have heard
a pin
d
r
o
p
!
I
think we
did.
Leslie Schultz
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Yes, I think it was in 1990 or 1992…he would have been about 70? But truly one of the ageless on stage!
Hi Leslie, So nice to see you mention Marcel Marceau in your comment back to Julia, because I thought of him right away when reading your lovely poem. I saw him with my high school drama teacher in Milwaukee in 1976 or 77. He died in 2007, so you must have seen him when he was much older? So nice to think of him! Love, Sally
Julia, thank you for the connection to Mann. I have not read that novella yet. Do you recall the look of the Ordway? Across the park from the St. Paul Grill where we had a meal? I have always thought it ironic that what first got me in the door was a ticket to see Marcel Marceau. The poem was sparked by an invitation for an event tonight in Minneapolis (I could not accept) to see another “clown” of sorts, Bill Murray, but in a more nuanced role with song and literature. Theater is a kind of human magic, isn’t it? Leslie
Leslie, I love the poem. It reminded me of “Mario and the Magician”, though it the reader hopes for more benevolent powers, of course. I love the intensity you describe: icy interiors, pressed panels of glass. Anything is possible there, isn’t it?