I love you Em because you researched your but off on Company. What I did for love, man. What I did for love.
Actually, though, I fell for this revival before any of that research. The revival was my first exposure to Company, which isn't something I see much use in trying to hide. When talking about his work, Doyle said something about how you can't un-do something without first knowing how to do it. And in that sense, to me, it is impossible not to have a great deal of respect for the original. On a very elementary level, without the original, we wouldn't have the revival. But further, like you said, you can't deny those roots. And even though after learning about the original and trying to reconcile the differences, I still can't see myself having fallen in love with the original or a traditional production the way I did with Doyle's. I'm not sure I think it would've spoken to me the way this one did. But I still felt like I needed to understand it because it's important to respect the things that came before -- and gave way to -- whatever it is that you fall so in love with. And that may just be my inner academic, but from an artistic perspective, I appreciated what Doyle did even more because I familiarized myself with what came before.
I actually just recently watched the video of the '72 tour that they have at the Lincoln Center Library. It was very weird for me, but totally fascinating. Afterward, someone asked me if now, having seen it, I can understand better why some people reacted the way they did to Doyle's version. And my answer was that yes, I can absolutely see why it would have pissed people off. She then asked if seeing it changed the way I felt, to which my answer was a decisive no. I think not being familiar with the original when I saw this made it much easier for me to accept such a radical departure, because I didn't know any better. And so, to see the original now is almost like taking a big step backwards.
A work of art is an invitation to love.
Updated On: 11/13/07 at 07:45 PM