Olympia Theatre, Dublin

Dublin

Walking down the sidewalk with the intension of wandering around Temple Bar, I only got a couple blocks from the hostel, when I saw lots of people in front of the Olympia Theatre, which has in front a big sign saying “Druid Synge.” It was 7:30 pm or so, and I hadn’t realized that this series of performances of all of J. M. Synge’s plays had opened. I stopped and looked at the schedule—for that night there were two plays listed on the front of the building:

The Shadow of the Glenn
The Playboy of the Western World

After some really brief hemming and hawing, I went into the box office. I didn’t stand in line long when a woman came along and sold me one of her three extra tickets for E15.00 instead of their regular E22.50. So I did one of the most impulsive things I’ve ever done—I went into the Olympia, and I saw those two plays! (Sure, Conservatory did Playboy of the Western World when I was a student, and I do remember being in the costume shop, but at least this is an Irish play!)

The Olympia was a Victorian vaudeville theatre, and its décor could be described as “shabby chic.” Lots of red velvet—lots and lots, and the corridor walls are painted red with white trim and glass-shaped lamps are over doors. In the auditorium, it’s all red with white painted floral molding around the proscenium, boxes and balcony. Crystal chandeliers way overhead. “Safety Curtain” in front of the stage—with a fake red curtain painted on, and dramatic masks, and oddly a sort of computer screen on which ads were projected, like at a movie theater before the previews start. The seats are covered with red velvet, but it’s worn and even torn in many places, making me wonder if it’s ever been re-upholstered (and reminding me of a couple of dollar movie theaters in St. Louis). On the floor, there’s a red carpet in the aisles and I think directly under your feet, but there are weird black metal squares directly under the seats. The rows are narrow, and the seats are not for wide hips. I found myself stretching my legs under the seats ahead of me.

Except for electricity, the safety curtains, and the lights and speakers, I don’t think the theatre has been altered. True, there’s probably a light booth. The boxes were unoccupied—they didn’t appear to have good sightlines anyway, and they had wires on them for the lighting. Of course, they date to when people went to the theatre to see and be seen, and nowadays lighting stuff in the old boxes seems to be common in theaters. It was easy to see this as a vaudeville theatre.
The plays were both funny and had almost the same setting—Irish cottage interior, the only thing that changed from one play to the next was the furnishings. Also a couple of the actors were in both plays. The actor who played the playboy was a cute redhead, and of course everyone had Irish accents. Beautifully done, though I must say the characters were a bit on the crazy side. No wonder there was rioting occasionally. I mean, during Synge’s time, at his plays, not while I was at the Olympia. I sat in a well-behaved audience.


Tuesday August 9: Hop on the bus and go to the airport. Grr.

I’m on the plane now, waiting for it to take off. A suitcase and backpack taken from the hostel on Lord Edward Street to the Busaras Bus Station a few blocks further than the Abbey Theatre was quite exhausting, but I made it, and that’s the important thing. At the JKF airport, my next concern will be getting my suitcase and getting on the shuttle to the other airport.

New York

La Guardia Airport—this is the second NYC airport I’ve been to today. I eventually got on the correct bus at JFK. Bewildering places. It was a long wait at the bus station. I wonder if NYC is having a rabbi convention or maybe male Orthodox Jews wear black from head to toe and wide brimmed hats and long beards every day even if they’re not rabbis. OK, I said that wrong—I don’t think the beards are fake. Unless they’re in disguise, like they’re private investigators. Um, never mind.

Kansas

Don’t ask me how anyone emigrating from Ireland to the U.S. could possibly stand the climate. Ick.

I keep having Ireland flashbacks. I may be physically back in the States, but my mind is still in Ireland.