Articulations

It doesn't take much to make me a sentimental slob -- say, the final performance of a show I'm in or an old-fashioned holiday. Catch me between the two -- as you are this week -- and I ooze sap. So, if sob-sister stuff makes your skin crawl, you'd best move on to "Life in Hell" or the Music section or some part of this paper where you'll find more sneering cynicism; I'm about to let the schmaltz flow.

Sunday night, Austin Musical Theatre closed its production of West Side Story at the Paramount Theatre. It was a show in which I played a small part. (I know, I know, there are no small parts, but my contribution each performance took three minutes tops, okay?) Because my role involved so little time onstage, I had plenty of time to observe the company, to see how the performers and crew prepared for the show, did their jobs, interacted under the lights and in the wings and after the curtain fell. That last night, they took to the show with the kind of verve and impassioned spirit you typically associate only with cliché-ridden show biz musicals. Twin currents of excitement and exultation ran through the company and powered them to vibrant action. It was a wonder to see, and to feel, as the energy and what was achieved with it all but caused the hair on your arms to stand on end. Taking it all in -- the fervor, the reaching, the whoop of triumph -- brought it home yet again how much is bound up in the creation of art: all the feeling, the effort, the giving of self, and how valiant those who give themselves over to it are.

Throughout the evening, as I cleared my things out of the dressing room and walked through the emptying Paramount and shared a last drink with my colleagues in the show and listened to comments about it from them and audience members and offered thanks to this person and that, I found myself grateful, not just to be a part of such a production, which I was, but to be in a city so abundant in committed artists, a city in which art flourishes like blooms in a tropical garden and in which the passion of that art can catch fire with an audience. We who love the arts have much here to be thankful for. I thought about listing them, naming names, but I'd never be able to include everyone and everything. So I'll let you make your own list and offer thanks yourself. Go ahead. Give it up.

On second thought, I will name one project to be thankful for, as it's very timely and may inspire someone who reads this to take part. I'm thankful for Body Count, the annual performance art ceremony held locally on World AIDS Day, December 1. Conceived by Austinite Sally Jacques, Body Count calls attention to the AIDS crisis through a community action that begins with a silent walk from the Congress Avenue bridge to the Texas State Capitol, then has participants lie on the Capitol walkway to represent people who have died from AIDS, and concludes with performances by local artists. It's a powerful event, personally and politically, and worthy of support. It will take place this Monday. If you'd like to take part, more information is available in this issue's Arts listings (under "Performance") or call 447-6222.