(from the Oct. 10th Writer's Almanac)
Pinter said that the opening of that play in New York City in 1967 was one of the greatest theatrical nights of his life. He said the audience was full of money—the women in mink, the men in tuxedoes. And as soon as the curtain opened, they hated the play. Pinter said, ''The hostility towards the play was palpable. You could see it.'' But, he said, ''The great thing was, the actors went on and felt it and hated the audience back even more. And they gave it everything [they had]. By the end of the evening, the audience was defeated. All these men in their tuxedos were just horrified. . . . There's no question that the play won on that occasion.''
Pinter said that the opening of that play in New York City in 1967 was one of the greatest theatrical nights of his life. He said the audience was full of money—the women in mink, the men in tuxedoes. And as soon as the curtain opened, they hated the play. Pinter said, ''The hostility towards the play was palpable. You could see it.'' But, he said, ''The great thing was, the actors went on and felt it and hated the audience back even more. And they gave it everything [they had]. By the end of the evening, the audience was defeated. All these men in their tuxedos were just horrified. . . . There's no question that the play won on that occasion.''
no subject
Date: 2003-10-12 10:50 am (UTC)Then again, it's difficult for a writer to fail on such a monumental level these days, in that it was much easier in 1967 to make inexpensively beautiful failures over and over again -- these days it's millions of dollars down the tubes if the tuxedoes don't line up at the box office with their wallets open.
But no matter. The writing keeps on going.