Word: spaces
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...would go in on Friday to a bare stage and start one week later," Bailey says. The other weeks of the fall and spring season went to the drama school. For weeks at a time, she remembers, "we couldn't see any sign of a performance going on. Stage space was just wasted." The drama school often used the stage shop to paint and dry their backdrops. Bailey laments, "It's one thing to lose our stage time to a performance. It's inexcusable to lose it for a shop...
Times have, if not changed, at least improved. In the past few years, after a minimum of haggling, the graduate school administration has granted the Dramat the stage space it requested. But, as Cosmo A. Catalano Jr., technical adviser at the drama school, points out, "The Dramat knows enough now to limit their requests." They've learned to play the game...
...that time, however, Boston was oblivious to anything occurring outside the vicinity of Landsdowne St. Summer in Boston is, after all, not much more than a humid, sweaty fantasy, two months of radiant heat and soaking t-shirts designed simply to occupy the space between semesters. And to watch baseball, which is far more of an opiate than religion, at least as far as Bostonians are concerned...
...July was spent, or was wished it had been spent, in the center-field bleachers at Fenway Park, listening to the gentle animal roar of a bemused crowd as Rice would flick his wrists and explode another hanging curve over The Wall, or Evans would dance and whirl through space before seizing a misguided double. Nothing else seemed to matter; Mideast maneuvers and the difficulties of Dr. Peter Bourne with the Controlled Substances Act--all fell below the headlines screaming Yaz's latest heroism, bewailing Lynn's sprained pinky. And Rice continued to explode curveballs, and Evans to dance...
...answers to these questions are less important than the acceptance of the sheer incongruity of Santayana's words sitting there amid the stench of corpses and the extinction of Jones's vision. The real question is, what sort of culture could, over a space of 50 years, harbor philosophiesas utterly different as Santayana's and Jones's? And how could the two men meet, there in the jungle, beyond all understanding...