So last night Trillian and I went to see the Theater Exile production of David Mammet's Glengarry Glen Ross which was in Olde City. The venue was great, we got seats in the 9th row and saw a really fabulous production -- it was like being in a restaurant eavesdropping -- especially Harry Philibosian who played "the machine", so so freaking well. That was amazing. But sweet barking cheese -- what a depressing play -- it was like watching a dog drown in a swimming pool. The actors were so good I felt completely emotionally drained upon leaving. Really. Every one of those sad characters you realize has no chance of surviving or getting a moment's rest and as soon as they get weak, everybody else attacks. What a miserable life. It was like Death of a Salesman, but ... more ... depressing.
Anyway ... as soon as we opened the programmes I noticed that Brian McCann was in it, and I'd photographed him about three years ago for the Shakespeare Festival, so we stuck around like theater groupies after the show and Brian invited us out to the aftershow party, which was at some place called Skinners, which it turns out is managed by this guy named Bill, who used to own an art gallery that gave me one of my first big shows, so it was a stupendous evening in all. What a beautiful big little art scene. I'm so lucky to have moments like this in my life.