news

Nice dancing today. I appreciate the patience of SO many of you when you weren't on stage. Use that time wisely to review lines and songs, find/make a prop, and practice dances. I've noticed a clear tone change in your attention: thank you.

I'm working on tix, bio photos, and t-shirt image. I'll try to limit the typos. $12 to Sarah on Monday for t-shirts -- after you pay your activity fee.

Light and sound crew is pretty amazing. They may be far away from the stage, but their work is valuable and help us do this. Especially thank Allison Cooney.

Let's also keep David Harris at the top of our list. He has logged more hours than ANYONE else involved in this show, although he won't spend a minute under the hot lights. His work makes possible any success we have.

Monday, beyond having a clear run, I hope to focus on the street scenes, making sure we all have believable actions and intent.

Tuesday we'll have fun at the Guthrie!!! Tix are complimentary, bus is $15, entertainment provided by me and Nieland is free. Bring me your check early Monday morning to make sure you're going.

Wednesday we have ONE goal: get through the show with the pit.

I am powerfully moved by moments in the show. Today, during a rehearsal of the Kaddish with only four people, I was in awe. More of those will continue to appear as we progress.

Oh, and here's the lapel tearing stuff I found:

Rending One's Garments

Keriah means tearing and originally this referred to rending one's garments at the moment of hearing about a death. This sign of mourning is now generally practiced immediately before the funeral service.

Keriah originated as a response to pagan practices in which people would mutilate themselves and tear out their hair upon hearing of the death. So keriah represents, by contrast, the containment of grief. At the same time, especially in our contemporary setting, keriah is a dramatic and sanctioned expression of anger and anguish. Ripping a shirt can be a release and relief. (In modern settings, a specially designated mourner's lapel ribbon is often torn instead. Many rabbis, myself included, find this less powerful than rending a garment that has been worn in the presence of the deceased.) Mourners tear the fabric as if to say, "My world and my heart are torn apart by this loss." Providing this release, the tradition validates the mourners' feelings, alleviating any guilt they may have about their anger at God.

Children mourning parents rip an area of clothing or a ribbon on their left side, over their hearts, to indicate a heart-felt loss. For other losses, mourners rend on the right side, and a less visible tear may be made. Parents command a greater level of mourning than other loved ones, because they gave us life. (The mourner's prayer is recited for eleven months for a parent, but thirty days for others.) With the loss of a parent, we are also deprived of the opportunity to fulfill the mitzvah (commandment) to "honor thy father and mother."

Neither a garment nor a mourning ribbon is torn completely. The mourners leave it attached, if only by a few threads, symbolizing that, as long as memory is alive, the connection between the deceased and the mourner is never fully severed.

Good night and good luck.