new york city

We have got used to waking up to the sun shining through the bedroom window. We wake up this morning to grey. The rain of yesterday is back - doubled. We chat with Colin, making arrangements for a gathering tonight, and we share cups of mocha. Thus fortified, we head out into the rain with a borrowed umbrella to make our way to Shabaka's. After some false alarms, we catch a cab to take us over to West 43rd St. Halfway there the cabbie stops, gets out in the rain, walks around the back of the cab, comes back in, and tells us we have to catch another cab because he has a flat tire. This is not all bad, as we are not charged for the half-ride. We do get another cab, which takes us without mishap directly over to the apartment building.

This is one of the newer apartment buildings in Manhattan, and after we go through the rigorous security check (the security guard sits behind a wall in the entrance, and asks us for our names, the person we are going to see, and makes us sign in), we take the elevator up to the 37th floor. Shabaka and his wife, Paulina, are staying in the apartment of friends who are presently in Connecticut. As we walk into the apartment the first thing we can see is the northern view of uptown Manhattan through large, partly open windows, and the low-lying clouds clearing away from the building. As we move further into the apartment and turn left, we realise there is another set of windows that look westward toward New Jersey. The day is dramatic, with squalls and clouds that close around the apartment and part again. Not only is the western view accessible through windows, but there is a door that gives onto a balcony on that side as well. The balcony is deep and well-sheltered - it is hardly wet. We exclaim about the views as Shabaka and Paulina agree with us. We sit down to a brunch of freshly-baked bread, smoked salmon, freshly-baked apple strudel, bought from a Greek woman down the street, very strong Derek-style coffee, freshly-squeezed orange juice and grapes.

We talk about working processes, beginning with Jitney, and Shabaka tells us of the respect paid to the production by the media, local and international. The New York Times, for example, held in-depth interviews with the cast and crew of the production after it opened, and allowed August Wilson to write an article about the play - an unprecedented act. The London papers flew to New York to review the play, and have said that Jitney is the premiere production on Broadway, and a number of international companies are trying to attract the production to their cities. Then we move on, talking about Shabaka and what he has been up to in the past sixteen years. It turns out he has a production company in LA and has written a one-man play called Jungle Bells, which has gotten rave reviews. He talks about the process of writing it, of working on it, of performing it - with a company of musicians and supporting characters, and by himself. The reactions to it by different kinds of audiences varies with the style of production. We all found it interesting that when the piece is performed with music and secondary characters, it appears to be more palatable for white audiences than when Shabaka performs it alone. We talk about other things, including world political situations, UWCs, and what some of the members of the production of You Can Lead A Horse To Water (1984) are up to today. It's an incredible morning, and the three of us leave together to walk Shabaka to the theatre, for the one-fifteen call for a two o'clock matinee.

As we approach the theatre he invites us to come across the street to meet two of the other actors in the show - a friend of Kim's, who will be taking over one of the lead roles in a couple of weeks, and the person who is presently playing that role, Carl Lumbly, whom some people may remember from his role in Cagney and Lacey. Nico discovers at this point that Carl is of Jamaican origin. Both men are very warm and friendly, and we leave feeling equally warm.

The rain continues, along with gusts of wind. This wreaks havoc on the borrowed umbrella as we scurry over to Fifth Avenue to finally get to Lord & Taylor to look for Nico's wedding outfit. We dash into the store with a great task at hand. Nico has to try on clothes, but has to do this within 45 minutes, so we can get to our matinee, which starts at 3 o'clock. Nico wastes no time, but marches up to a sales clerk and asks for petite outfits. He passes her on to another sales clerk, a very nice and obliging woman, who seeks out and chooses twenty separate outfits to be tried on. Nico begins. After the fifth try, the outfit has been found - a light silk two-piece, with a sarong-tie skirt. Nico knows that shoes are the next challenge but at least she has something to wear to the wedding.

We pay the arm and the leg that the outfit demands, and we dash out into the rain (which is now falling for real) and catch a cab downtown. Dinner With Friends, which won the Pulitzer Prize for Drama this year, is being performed off-Broadway in a converted movie theatre. It is a good play, but interestingly enough it never reaches the depths that a play like Jitney (or one like The Real Thing) is able to achieve. It is a subtle play. If we had watched it without having seen the line-up of the week (Phantom aside), it would have stood up well on its own, but in context, it's a good play (but not great). We enjoyed it. The performances of the cast of four were strong, the sets were excellent, and the production very slick. But it had the same effect on us as watching a very good television show.

We head back to Colin's, where he and his friend Jim are organizing an evening for us and the various people we have invited round. We are not sure who will appear - we have extended our invitation to a number of people, from Terence (Colin's brother) to Ronnie and his partner Dan, to Bonnie (who is out of town), to Kim, to Carly. We decide to order in Indian food. In the end there are seven of us: Philip and me, Colin, Jim, Ronnie and Dan. It is a delightful evening - good food, good wine, good conversation, plenty of laughter. When the guests have departed, Philip and I pack, and we go to bed.

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Saturday - Day Seven