One of my charges as a teacher of Theatre History is to cover the birth of theatre and the story of the Greeks in the early weeks. After all this art did begin in the rocky hills – – or did it??? For years I have kept this huge historical find a secret, reluctant to share it with the rest of the civilized world. Perhaps I thought I was due some finder’s fee, but alas that was not to be. copywright money coming my way – – but I guess not. So now my academic find is up for your consideration.
Cue the pretentious academic music.
This play which has been passed down from generation to generation since man stood on two feet. It has been celebrated on every continent with every culture. This most primitive play explores the very nature of existance and the possibilites and probabilites of existance beyond what we are able to feel and see. It speaks of our desperate need for relationship and the unimaginable existential nightmare of a life without connection. It is told in screams and giggles. Blood rushes cold and joy bubbles (however joy bubbles, I guess)
More shockingly, YOU have witnessed this play. You perhaps have even become an actor for this ancient text. And that portentous text is titled:
Peek-a-Boo.
Yes, Peek-a-Boo is that first play. The audience is the child. The actor is the parent. The tale is brief but deeply significant. Imagine the first day when you attended the first performance – when the actor (aka your mother) covered her face; she disappeared from your world. She vanished. She dissolved into some spooky Beckett-like abyss. All hope was gone. Life as you knew it disappeared into your soggy diapers. Then – reversal – that magical, theatrical twist of story and your mother removes her hands from her face. She has returned. She is filled with joy. She left – chances were that she was not to return – but, alas, she came back to you – for you! You, the audience reel in delight. You have entered into the world of pretend. You enjoy the thrill of play. You are ready to face a lifetime of peek-a-boos. When we dress up and head to the theatre’s of New York and London, we hope to find stories just as thrilling as this peek-a-boo – but nothing can ever top the original cast that featured our first actor “mother.”
On a side note, the class, who believe I have an honest dislike of children, believe that should I have had children, I would have played peek-a-boo myself, but, that when I covered my face, I would have slipped out of the room, leaving my progeny whaling as some member of a Greek chorus. not true . . .