Sylvia

Sylvia Plath, A Portrait opens at Pier Pressure Productions this weekend. It will be the first production in the new space and I feel very honored to be a part of it. We've finally seen the other group perform, the women who do the actual portrait. They are amazing. They have delved into her poetry and have put together this piece that is both humorous and moving.

My group performs a short work of Plath's entitled "Three Women." It was written as a radio play for the BBC and is a three voice poem about three different childbirth experiences. Since it was meant to mainly be heard, Susi has set it as a reader's piece. There is little staging and we sit and read from our scripts. The focus is on the voices, and of course Sylvia Plath's amazing poetry. We serve as the preface to the other group.

First Voice (me) has a son. Second voice has a miscarriage. Third voice has a daughter and gives her up. All of the stories are interwoven. Here is one of my favorite passages:

First Voice:
What is it that flings these innocent souls at us?
Look, they are so exhausted, they are all flat out
In their canvas-sided cots, names tied to their wrists,
The little silver trophies they've come so far for.
There are some with thick black hair, there are some bald.
Their skin tints are pink or sallow, brown or red;
They are beginning to remember their differences.

I think they are made of water; they have no expression.
Their features are sleeping, like light on quiet water.
They are the real monks and nuns in their identical garments.

I see them showering like stars on to the world --
On India, Africa, America, these miraculous ones,
These pure, small images. They smell of milk.
Their footsoles are untouched. They are walkers of air.

Can nothingness be so prodigal?
Here is my son.
His wide eye is that general, flat blue.
He is turning to me like a little, blind bright plant.
One cry. It is the hook I hang on.
And I am a river of milk.
I am a warm hill.

Dress rehearsal is Thursday and then we perform Friday, Saturday, Sunday.