Thursday, May 3, 2012


My mother, Vince and I took a cab uptown to Broadway, opposite the Lincoln Center. We had supper at Fiorello. We walked across to the Vivian Beaumont Theatre, passed beneath the new-ish, beautiful plane tree plaza, into the theatre,  presented the War Horse e-tickets I'd printed out. The sullen ticket lady looked at them and barked: Go to the Box Office!!!


There, the nice man behind the glass said, Wrong night: You'll  have to dress up all over again tomorrow. Could we perhaps sneak in? whispered my mother. Nah, said the nice man, You don't want to miss any part of this show.

Yes. Wrong night, even wrong time. In my diary I had written it down a night early. Of course I had not checked the tickets. My mother and the Frenchman were quite nice about it, considering.

And he was right about not wanting to miss any of it. Ironically, some of the acting was quite weak - ranging from over acting to really bad English and German accents; but the music, the staging, the production, and, most of all, the horses themselves, were stunning.


  1. Marie - I've actually done the exact same thing! Imagine my relief when the box office quietly and efficiently changed my tickets so my party of 4 could be seated.

    Beautiful picture as always. Your spread on Battery Park took my breath away too.

  2. That's a nice photo.

    So despite the dodgy accents you had a good night!

  3. Dinner at Fiorello's! great memory.

  4. I had the same reaction to seeing War Horse here in Toronto. And thank goodness you were a day early. Being a day late is no fun. We get a lot of that at the opera.


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