Crossing time zones, as I have been doing - from London to west coast America (minus eight hours), back to the east coast (plus three hours) and now finally back in London (plus five hours) - I’m not quite sure if I’m coming or going. That’s an occupational hazard of flying so much and so quickly (and if I’m feeling slightly woozy, imagine the poor planet and the carbon footprint I’m leaving on it as I do….)
But if my trip was largely for pleasure, how do those that have to travel for work manage to pick up the reins in each place? I was amazed, for instance, to recently read that Gerard Mortier, the new general manager and artistic director of New York City Opera who takes over full-time next year, spends roughly one week a month in New York while he winds down from his current tenure as director of Paris National Opera.
But if he’s dealing with two full-time jobs simultaneously in separate time zones, at least New York City Opera is currently on a hiatus and presenting no staged performances while their Lincoln Center home is being extensively refurbished. I sometimes think I’ve got six jobs simultaneously - not least this one, writing this daily blog, and trying to resume it on a normal schedule now that I’m back (but failing, at least today, to do so).
The hardest part is not so much staying awake as trying to sleep normally; and the worst thing about crossing time zones this way are the odd jetlagged dreams I seem to have when I get back. Last night, for instance, I dreamt about the death of a major producer - which would indeed be a nightmare for the West End if it were true. And no sooner did I recover from the wake-up call of that prospect than I dreamt that Eileen Atkins was in a(nother) bad play; while that is also a frightening prospect, it is fortunately not a fatal one.
But if those dreams seemed real but fortunately weren’t, what to make of my last show in New York on Sunday or my first one back in London on Monday? I went to the closing performance of [title of show] on Sunday afternoon at Broadway’s Lyceum Theatre before flying home that night. And watching this musical, starring its own two writers, about the writing of a musical - the one we are in fact watching — and dreaming of taking it to Broadway, which they duly do against the odds, was a real hall-of-mirrors experience in which I wasn’t quite sure if I was suffering a premature jetlagged hallucination.
There was something infinitely touching about simultaneously watching a performance that was living proof of that dream coming true but also ending, as the struggle it articulates of getting that show there finally ended less than three months after it opened on Broadway. Yet they got there, which is more than most struggling musical writers achieve; and as they sing , “I’d rather be nine people’s favourite thing/ Than a hundred people’s ninth favourite thing,” their bittersweet triumph became one of my favourite things in the world, too.
Then it was back last night to Pinter’s No Man’s Land at the Duke of York’s; and while the play often makes you feel like you’ve stumbled into someone’s dream landscape, too, I was wondering if I was dreaming when I saw the sign outside the theatre: “House Sold Out”. When was the last time that happened for a play in the West End on a Monday night?
Don't get me wrong I love Title of Show but that lyric that you quote: I'd rather be 9 people's favorite thing , than a hundred people's ninth favorite thing " is a bit of a misnomer. It's possible to be both, they aren't mutually exclusive. Given the fervent fan base for Title of Show I think they are more than 9 people's favorite thing, so my argument doesn't really matter. I'm sure come Tony time there will be a slew of nominations for the show and maybe even some wins over some of the bigger musicals due to come in this upcoming season.