Day 33.83333: Home on the Grange

Listening to: Ian McKellen performing the "Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow" from Macbeth

No sooner had class ended did I have to scoot to La Cartoucherie, a series of theaters, to see a production of Shakespeare's Macbeth performed at Théâtre du Soleil. So I was excited though apprehensive: I wouldn't be able to understand a word that was being said, apart from the occasional shouted name to obvious cognate.

The transfer station (Bastille, funnily enough) looked so nice. I was very excited.

Unfortunately, adrenaline doesn't last long. When I got to the Metro stop Château de Vincennes (all the way at the end of Zone 2!), it seemed pretty empty. I mean, it's the equivalent of riding out to the Vienna station on DC's orange line. Anyway, I had to take a bus from the Metro to the theater. Surprisingly, the bus wasn't the bad part. I got to look out the window at the Château de Vincennes--the namesake of the Metro station. It was this huge, looming, castle-like property. That was very pretty.

When the bus stopped at the supposed Cartoucherie stop, I was just thinking, This cannot be right. We were in the middle of nowhere; that hardly seemed good for any theater, let alone a collection of theaters. I crossed the road, stepped over the low gate, and immediately was greeted with the pungent odor of horse manure. 

Wait, what?

I looked to my left, and sure enough, there was a horseback-riding lesson going on inside a barn. And as I continued to look around, I noticed all the buildings were barns. And a daycare center. But they all looked like barns. 

I had lost all hope at that point, feeling like someone had punked me, but then I saw a building emblazoned:

And, you know, that seemed like a good sign.

So I stood outside, teeth chattering from lack of food and warmth, hoping someone would take pity on me and let me inside. Finally, someone did, and I was inside the building in the picture above.

Now, this inside looks nice and kitchee and quaint, and it would've been if it weren't for the cold. In fact, the whole experience reminded me of when my family would meet the other China 11 families at this building called the Grange in Vermont. It was much like that. Except then, I had 10 other girls to run around with so I could keep warm. Here, I was sitting hunched on a bench, desperately wondering why I didn't double-check that dinner was being served.

I guess that was my own fault for going early. But I wouldn't have had time to go back to my apartment, drop off my stuff, and then come out to the theater. Nope. So I decided to suck it up and wait for the rest of the class. In the meantime, I was driven to eating squirrel food. :/

The room would fill with people, and then they'd be gone. Then new people would come in and go. What was going on? Finally, I decided to call my professor as soon as the clock struck 6:15 pm, our agreed meeting time. I prayed that the theater was not in fact that room I spent the last hour freezing in.

Nope. It was right next door.

And thankfully, the inside was huge, heated, and serving dinner. Now why couldn't anybody have told me that 10 minutes ago??

It had the feeling as if we were in a huge tent. But a nice huge tent, like the one they stay in during the Quidditch World Cup in Goblet of Fire. Anyway, they had some fun Macbeth artwork hanging around from famous productions. After our professor offered us some wine (totally cool here), I looked around.

And yes, you did just see a sign for a Kabuki Theater version of Macbeth. Man, that would've been a great production to see.

Now, my goal is to at least see every Shakespeare play I've read in school. And I've read Macbeth twice, so it was important to me. 

Last night I would've gone over all aspects of the play in excruciating detail, but for your sake, I don't have the energy to right now. I have another play to attend at 8:00 pm and I'd prefer not to fall asleep like the kid next to me kept doing during Macbeth.

Very out of order. But here we go: I guess a sun for soleil, which is "sun" in French, after all.

Wall decorations. Stepping into the theater section was equally breathtaking, as it was so cozy yet grand. That doesn't make any sense. I"m sorry.

There were steps in the back that led up to the seats. It was easier for us in the cheap seats to access them this way.

Will benevolently watching us as we dine.

The stairs from the other end.

Going up the stairs allowed you to channel your inner voyeur: the dressing room was right below. So I creeped on them. It wasn't like anyone was changing. I think.

Cool ceiling in the dining area.

See, they're inviting to look, through little peepholes, nonetheless! They definitely get a kick out of this voyeurism thing.

Yep, a balcony dining table above the theater door. Other obnoxious 20-somethings took it and laughed like hyenas. :/

The production was spectacular to see, but very lackluster in the acting. Unfortunately, a lot of the main characters happened to look like regular actors that appear in those College Humour videos, and that didn't really help me see them as tough Scotsmen. It was hard for me to follow even though I know the play well, but I mean, who can't help but mix up Duncan, Malcolm, Donalbain, Macduff, and countless other names that all sound a little too similar to remember. It was very obvious who was Banquo because his name sounds so different. 

Man, they put those actors to work. They were doing more work changing the stage than I've ever seen done before. They were sweeping, cleaning, running with curtains, rolling rugs--you name it. I guess stagehands are expensive?

Also, I've noticed from these two productions that French audiences really take encores to a new level. Maybe it'll be different tonight, as this theater is swanky and in the heart of Paris, but these more suburban theaters really go on and on and on with the clapping. The cast came out at least five times, and even though it's rude to leave while they're bowing, by the fourth round, it seemed like overkill to me. Plus, it was 11:30 pm, which meant if I was lucky I'd be home by 12:30 in the morning. Yippee.

Oh, and I also just filled out my application for my Senior Year Housing at GW. Eek! And I turn 21 in less than 21 days! I may have an existential crisis in the next few days--thankfully different than a midlife crisis, as there are no motorcycles, sports cars, piercings, or tattoos involved. But the other kind of crisis does make you wander around like Hamlet and annoy the hell out of everyone by being not just overly emotional but annoyingly depressing. Ah well. Welcome to 21, Willard.