“The Bald Soprano…”
There was a thick silence as all the actors walked off to different ends of the stage. I started giggling from anticipation, as I saw the glint in Mr. Smith’s eyes. Were they finally going to clarify the title of the play? Leaning forward I held my breath…
“… She always wears her hair the same way.”
Oh… all right, well that’s cool too.
I suppose it was silly of me to think I’d walk away from the production immediately understanding the title and meaning behind it. But even though the theme of language being meaningless wasn’t obviously clear to me at first. I see it now. And if anything, I found the play ridiculously entertaining.
I’m a big fan of convincing performances and nonsense dialogues. I think uncomfortable silences and abrupt statements are one of the best parts of TV comedy. And so to have it wrapped up nicely and served to me via a live performance? Delicious.
One of my favorite scenes would have to be the five minutes or so the two couples sat in awkward silence. The failed attempts at starting a discussion had me grinning. And when Mr. Smith’s light cough caused the Martins to turn their heads so fast they could’ve gotten whiplash, I was in heaven.
There were parts when I became distracted of course too. I found the Fire Chief distracting – that’s the point I know – and unnecessary. When he went on his with rambles I found my eyes wandering. But now I am cultured I suppose, the author’s/director’s point was to make the rant incoherent. It leads back to the play’s theme of language being meaningless, and to the point that we can literally speak to a person for five minutes, maybe even an hour and a half yet still come away with nothing.
I feel as if the characters, the theme, and the play itself really reached out to a New York audience. Some thought the play as too strange, but I think New Yorkers are used to bizarre and uncomfortable situations. Everyday we experience the homeless pleading, disturbed men shrieking, and women preaching, and New Yorkers are experts at ignoring them. Leading back to the theme of language, they are also excellent at small talk; New Yorkers are savants in the art of trivial conversation.
A simple ride on a bus or train will give you a front row seat to what might be a modern day adaption of Ionesco’s “The Bald Soprano.” I cannot tell you the amount of times I’ve been a spectator to a two-person conversation going absolutely nowhere. It seems the average teenage girl has not yet acquired the foundations of dialogue.
Altogether, I found “The Bald Soprano” very relatable. As a New Yorker I felt the play’s humor and theme pertained to those also living where I reside. The “The Bald Soprano” does not simply apply to those who dwell “in the suburbs of London” with the last name Smith.
Cluck.
