By Lee Samsami Stein
I love New York and I visit every year. This year my girlfriends and I decided to start our first annual “Girls’ Weekend Out” vacation, which of course took place in New York! The trip was scheduled for the weekend of August 23rd, 2002. After the airline tickets were purchased, I started an online search of several off- and off-off-broadway theaters, and came across the Labyrinth Theater’s website. According to the LAB’s posted current season, during that very weekend we’d have an opportunity to see the world premier of Stephen Adly Guirgis’ new play, Our Lady of 121st Street. (No! I did NOT plan it this way!)
The theater was only 5 blocks away from where we were staying, an awesome bed and breakfast called The Inn on 23rd. So we walked over to this big ugly building, on a dark enough block which could easily be missed. In fact, there wasn’t even a sign indicating that it housed the Labyrinth Theater. No matter. We took the elevator up to the 4th floor. The door slid open and we stepped into a dimly lit lobby. It felt like I had walked into a bar that was decorated by art students—lots of darkness, the walls painted with warm colors, used furniture (some antique and some downright ratty).
I walked to the ticket window and saw a man standing there who I immediately assumed was Jinn Kim, co-producer of the play and co-manager of the theater. Jinn and I had emailed each other several times throughout the summer due to my persistence in how to obtain these tickets. He was very patient with me and I appreciated that. I pointed to my name on his list and he smiled, immediately remembering me. He looked up and exclaimed, “Lee Stein!” He turned to his colleague and explained that we’d been emailing each other for the past few months. “Welcome to New York!” he said, and I laughed and thanked him.
The main room is just that, a room…with plumbing/heating pipes exposed and all. Again, it was very small. The set was great—aqua/minty greenish ‘70s-colored walls…heavy floral drapes…old, old ‘70s furniture, and…a drop ceiling! Excellent! Just like a real funeral home!
Similar to Glory of Living, the scenes were divided by complete darkness and very loud music…this time, it was a combination of motown hits, Ray Charles, and ‘50s/‘60s progressive jazz (Miles Davis perhaps?). Obviously this is the music that the characters heard in their childhood years when they were taught by “Sister Rose,” the focal point of the play.
Like Guirgis’ previous play, these characters were angry! However, the actors, across the board, were fantastic. (Several of whom were in the New York/London productions of Jesus Hopped the A-Train.) They were able to make the tension in the scenes so palpable—you could never divert your attention for a second. But the tension and action each made the silence just as important as the words spoken.
I’ve been reading a lot of short story collections lately, so this play was great because it consisted of a series of vignettes involving the people who were taught by, and basically grew up with Sister Rose. One vignette related to another by perhaps one line, but other than that, each one could stand alone. Yet as the play progressed you could see one complete story unfolding. All but a few stories ended unhappily, or I should say stopped unhappily, because you were left with a sense that each character would still deal with many more hardships, emotional crises, etc. The theme running through it was “What happened to Sister Rose’s body?” Not only that, but what happened to all of the characters over the years? What had they lost? What had they taken for granted? What were they hoping to find? Whoever cast these actors did a great job. They were very “normal looking”. It almost seemed extremely important to cast actors who looked hardened—realistically portraying these characters who grew up in an old, tough, ethnically-diverse neighborhood.
I thought this play was terrific and I hope that other cities will produce it because I think it can speak to many people, no matter where they grew up.
P.S. The LAByrinth Theater is HOT folks! If anything, they need donations for a better air conditioner! It was very comfortable and cool at first, but once you turn on those hot spotlights and pack a hundred people in there, watch out! Still, with the caliber of work they produce, it’s worth a little perspiration. Just bring a lot of H20 and you’ll be FINE!
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Oh yeah! I forgot to mention another highlight of the evening! Let me preface the highlight by mentioning that one day several months ago, totally out of the blue, I received an email from Ms. Marilyn O’Connor (Philip Seymour Hoffman’s mom). I thought, Okay. Why do I have an email from this woman? But then I realized that she must’ve found my review of Glory of Living on Daryn’s website, and then read my unsuccessful attempt to say hello to her son because I was a complete and total chicken. Her email said, “Next time you see PSH, you should say hello.”
SO: During intermission, one of my new acquaintances, Carl, and I walked outside and hovered in a doorway because it was misting rain. There we stood, smoking our cigarettes, and then I saw Phil walk outside. I thought to myself, “This is it, no time like the present!”
I said, “Hey Carl. There he is. I really want to go talk to him. Will you help me?”
Carl smiled weakly and said, “I dunno!”
“Please? Please? Please? Just walk over with me, that’s all!”
He smiled wider and said, “OKAY!”
So I strode over, he was standing with a couple of other people, talking. I went right up to him and said, “Hi.” All eyes turned to me.
“I’m sorry to interrupt here,” I looked at Phil, “but I just wanted to tell you that I really love your work, and I think you’re great!”
“Thank you!” he said graciously.
“Cool,” I mumbled. I looked away, as if I wanted to say something else but forgot, so I started to walk away until suddenly I remembered, the play! Talk about the play you idiot!! While still walking away, I added, “Oh! By the way, so far the play is fantastic!” and I heard him say, “Oh yeah! Thanks!” but I was already practically running away back into the building, up the elevator and back to my friends in the theater lobby. Whew! It lasted only a few seconds, but it felt so surreal! Phil seemed so TALL! What the heck? He seemed short when I saw him last year! The funny thing is, I don’t think I could tell you what he was wearing because even though I was looking at him, I was really nervous so I must’ve been in my own world or something. I didn’t even notice!
Anyway, I always wanted to tell PSH that I admired him as an actor and I did, so I’m happy to cross yet another task off my life’s “to do” list. Thanks, Marilyn O’Connor, for encouraging me to say hello to your son.
-- Lee
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