Wicked. It is a word with so many meanings. Once upon a time, it was a character trait of people at the 'not pleasant' end of the scale, like, say, a witch...no, wait, more of that shortly.
Saturday, play day today. The 7 Stages of Grieving. Written by Wesley Enoch and Deborah Mailman, its 20th Anniversary production. It is strong and highly recommended. Thoughtful. A monologue performed by Chenoa Deemal, fast becoming one of my favourite people to see on stage.
The staging, the production, the set, all contributed to the incredible atmosphere of the play. The light and sound was magic. The thunder and rain sounded so...real. But wait, in fact, that part was. As we watched on, outside was turning into a flash flood moment. So flash and so flood that we were unable the leave the theatre via the foyer, but had to exit via the fire doors. Sheesh.
So that called for a tea break nearby with friends. The rain didn't really stop. We had an idea about going to purchase tickets for the musical Wicked presently being staged in Brisbane...long story short (tl:dr) via lottery system, we ended up seeing it this evening, albeit in 'sight restricted' seats for a very discounted price. A compleat change of plan.
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| QPAC green and foreboding clouds |
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| Greenness, rainness, jobs to be done |
I kind of understand why everything around QPAC is looking green at the moment, right down to green drinks. And while green to me was always the colour of 'envy', it seems the young people have appropriated it to mean 'Wicked'.
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| There was this... |
I hope 'Grease' is ne'er similarly appropriated though.
[Camera : Canon EOS 60D, 28-80mm, 5.45pm, 5.50pm, 7.47pm (before the show started)]
