Moving Toward Happiness

Moving Company

a review 


Recently walking past a housekeeper with my bags, we left our hotel on the 23rd floor of a room in Manhattan. I nodded good-bye and thank you, and she smiled for a moment but I wondered how long the grin remained the second we went around the corner. I didn’t stop to think about what goes through her mind on a daily basis as she cleans up after me and everyone else that nods to her along the way.

In The Moving Company’s current production of The 4 Seasons, at The Lab Theater, the lives of three human beings caught in the trappings of their own seeming mendacity of hope suggest an essential value we often like to avoid. Like the housekeeper we know exists, yet they are gone when we disappear in our own lives, the three characters in this fictional hotel experience life through the poignancy of summer, fall, winter, & spring, and inside each season, the human condition speaks to the turmoil we all experience no matter our level of responsibility or status in society.

These three clean up after us daily, they unplug our used toilets, gather our soiled linens, and bathe in our afterward when the season wanes and they are left alone with their own simple lives. Each character has a question and while driven by the music of Vivaldi, their actions speak to the pain that exists when hope is just out of reach, when the light disappears, when happiness cannot be attained within the mundane reality of trying to survive. There is a rhythm to their world, and the music allows us to imagine their truths are as complicated as anyone’s own. The everyman is brought to life.

The Moving Company speaks to the reality of a generalized world, while exposing our current political turmoil and the hypocrisy of the haves when measured against the have nots. The judicial system is brought into question, while the seeming confusion of how leadership is chosen by ignorance is explored in the eyes of three normal lives.

We walk past the housekeeper every day, and the spirit of always seeking the beautiful despite the disdainful existence of their lives is played out on stage with a quiet humor. The talents of Heidi Bakke, Joy Dolo, and Steven Epp  play out the illusion we choose or do not choose to maintain when carving out our own lives. The balance of live theatre under the direction of Dominique Serrand once again compels and demands an audience to think, rather than simply walk past the reality of our own existence. In a world where hope is easily forgotten, is it still attainable? Will we remember two or three hundred years from today about the purpose of our lives?

The Moving Company raises the question with a blend of delightful humor spread thin by the painful struggle within the human condition. We are left entertained yet in a constant with silent wonder.



 

‘The 4 Seasons’ performed by The Moving Company

The Lab Theater – November 1 – December 2, 2018.

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Walking By Society

I noticed a disagreement

two people in a shot

hard to know as an observer

who is right, which wronged

Standing a little closer

listening words bandied

about with an emphasis on

pitch disregard evidence.

My eyes gave cathartic glance

two views in visual contrast

we look like the parties

that in silence divide us.

Such variables in American society

look while influence reaches the street.

The Circle of Deceit

I can’t listen anymore,

I’m a citizen of this country,

I believe in my freedom,

the welfare of my neighbor

the peace of mind of a stranger.

I want to understand the peril

that one family has overcome

in order to help another find peace,

find hope,

find their own sense of freedom.

 

But the circle of deceit

two parties battling one another,

a constant rubrics cube of

smoke and mirrors,

Pollyanna and Slaughterhouse Five,

they’re all the same,

all told before,

all recognized to be contributors,

to our own incessant

Catch – 22

of hit and miss, ugliness.

 

I suppose I will turn to fiction

once again,

the result of years of twisted reality,

I’d rather just …

Imagine.

In Hypocrisy Is Solution

Wonder about the rules,

whose design,

what makeup,

howsoever long the game be played,

is their truth in a lacking

understanding

or are we always meant to wonder,

is that the purpose,

does it give our lives a reason

for a constant wander

of the mind

to be the answer

might a patent suggest

we will now end this war,

this examination of a fruitless

endeavor

meant only to pad the walls

of quiet insecurity.

In a matter of words

often the purveyor

is left, are left, certainly wondering right

from wrong,

in a calming manner,

the world lives on,

even after the shadows

drift along the avenue

following another serene

universal sunset.

When Once We Stood Together

Today I remember then,

only when

I cannot quite comprehend.

I know it was with intrigue

I wondered about time,

was this perhaps the proper sign.

I would look to wonder

each new design

a telling of a simple future.

Seems we all have a memory

whereby we might all recall

sweet passion was most kind.

We walked together as one,

hoping for the same,

a recognition of love.

Seemed rather simple at the time,

we all wanted it,

we all shouted the words.

 

Freedom seemed attractive,

easily attainable,

put a smile on all of our –

insecurities stepped in the way,

began to sway

the intelligent soul

toward shutting their door

no one allowed inside

any more, none anymore

we cannot help put pity

upon those we left behind.

 

Words are different now,

they speak quickly,

loud,

their tone misunderstood

or simply not concerned.

Sharply stated.

Rude consequences,

never really apply.

Today

instead of a polite retort,

we rather quickly

use a firearm …

the natural way they say

if a conceal and carry

is the way to go.

 

When once we stood together,

now we elude society

steady in the drum,

the lasting hypocrisy.

 

 

A Diamond

When thoughts of rocks,

come to play,

the mind is alluring,

easily left to sway

the doubts,

the indecisions,

the valued circumstance,

of shared precisions.

 

The cut of a diamond,

meant to draw blood,

perhaps never seen,

never heard,

yet known

by the fractured elements

of delight in an eye,

the beholder,

the judgment,

the reality of one,

becomes the circumstance

of another.

 

We stood inside a mini-mall

watched the world evolve,

we laughed

qualified are sanity

that lasts.

We knew our world

didn’t need the blood of a diamond,

for it is a world far beyond

the material norm.

 

Yet today, sitting in offices,

there seems aplenty,

of ignorance and entitlement.

 

The crush of a diamond,

the cut of a purity in glass,

the reality in the mirror,

won’t ever extinguish the glare.

Conversations Again

I’m sitting in my local coffee shop,

listening to Bjork shout angst toward

human behavior,

and I have to pause, listen to the words,

watch the lips move,

‘same as it ever was’

a lyric David Byrne gave us years ago,

and yet,

the conversations are still the same,

people trying to make each other,

make each other believe,

a promise, an idea, an ideal, a plea,

a necessary tool toward their own

imminent survival.

It is this human condition,

causes all of us,

well most,

to somehow indicate we can communicate,

participate, challenge, inform, suggest,

repeal,

what a God-awful reality,

when our luxuries of communications,

fall into the trappings,

the attitude, the ugly, the incomprehensible nature,

of human hypocrisy.