On Monday night, Steve and I attended the Barrymore Awards, Philly’s
version of Broadway’s Tony Awards: annual recognition of the year’s best plays
and performances. Steve got us tickets because he has been understudying at the
Walnut Street and Arden Theaters during the last few years, and he knows some
members of the local show biz community. With one exception (Gypsy) I have not seen one minute of any
of the nominated shows, but felt it would be a fun night of glitz and glamour
(and a nice night out with my hubby).
Aiden's Shakespeare puppet-closest I've gotten to theatre lately! |
So we got all dolled up and headed into the city, noting on
arrival at the venue that our seats were waaaay down front; we were surrounded
by nominees who were seated close so they could leap to the stage when (if)
their names were called. We got a few puzzled glances from theatre folk trying
to place us in a show, but we were mostly ignored by our excited, formally
attired aisle-mates.
For the next two-and-a-half (no intermission) hours, I sat
and watched as people I had never laid eyes on before strutted their stuff in
the musical numbers, or wept with joy as they made their acceptance speeches. I
had no skin in the game, as it were, and had I been obligated to cast a ballot
I would have had to resort to the eeny-meeny-miney-mo method of voting. The
Lifetime Achievement nod went to an aging actress, none of whose lifetime
of achievements have been witnessed by me. The Emerging Artist nominees have
all, inexplicably, been working for at least 10-15 years in the theatre (that’s
some slow emerging). I will mention that the Best Musical winner was a rock
musical about ax murderess Lizzie Borden, and leave it at that. Even the
prospect of an open bar at the end was not enough to keep the Seyfrieds from making
a speedy exit, and we were home before 11 PM.
Steve at least had some acquaintances among the nominees, so
there was some genuine interest on his part. For me, the evening reinforced the
wisdom of my choice to stop performing years ago—this just isn’t my crowd. But
it was also a reminder that my attending awards ceremonies to which I have
absolutely no connection is a strange pastime indeed. This realization does not
stop me from watching the Oscars in years where I haven’t seen ANY of the
nominated films or performers, or the Emmys (even though I basically no longer
watch TV). But I came away from the Barrymores sort of wishing I could have
given my ticket to a starry-eyed theatre super-fan, who would have loved every
one of the 150 minutes of sitting (did I mention no intermission?) and cheering
for her favorite performers and plays.
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