Why I Love Washington

On any given day in Washington, you're bound to meet people with great stories, which to me is what makes life worth living.  Better yet, because DC is DC, you'll meet people who tell stories about politics - intrigue, behind the scenes details not found in the Post or online, and tidbits you'll tuck away for later retelling at your next cocktail party.  This past Friday night, I was reminded why I love being out and about in Washington and why I love touching elbows with these movers and shakers.

I was fortunate that my friends Jess and Doug invited me to join them and their family for dinner and to see Hamlet at the Folger Library.  Jess's father, Ken, is one of DC's political elite, but more relevant to this evening, he is passionate about Shakespeare and particularly passionate about Hamlet.  Jess's mother, Carol, is also a Shakespeare lover and also a DC power broker. 

We started the evening out at Bistro Cacao on the Hill, where we dined outside and all enjoyed great French food (particularly the filet mignon and venison).  At the table with us was Frank Gannon, a long-time friend of Ken and Carol, who worked in the Nixon White House and had many stories to tell.  I quickly learned about Frank's Nixon connection because Doug and Jess had dressed their daughter in a onesy with a photo of Nixon and the tag line WWND: What Would Nixon Do? across the front of it.  Many pictures were taken of Frank and the baby.

Frank was quickly asked to tell one of his Nixon stories, which started with some basic background details. As a young White House staffer with a writer's temperament, Frank admitted he could not get himself into the office before 11 a.m. most mornings, something rather unheard of in the Nixon administration.  While he did sleep late most mornings, Frank noted that he was religious about having his alarm go off at 10 a.m., which to his young mind was a sign of honor and great commitment to the job.

One morning, Frank was awakened just before his alarm to find the White House operator asking him to hold for the President.  As he said, he was somewhere in between levels two and three of R.E.M. sleep at the time and not particularly ready to speak with the Commander of the Free World. As Frank was coming to, he heard Nixon's voice over the phone just as his clock radio alarm turned on blasting the Beetles' Strawberry Fields Forever.  Here he is, flat on his back with a line to the President on one side and the embodiment of the counter culture Nixon so despised in the background.  Frank said it was all he could do to focus on answering the President's questions while trying to shut off the radio across the room.  (Why was Nixon calling?  To clarify a quote from Churchill.  Frank had written much on Churchill, and as this was before the Internet, the President just called Frank for the answer.)

My question to Frank was whether or not he thought Nixon would have known or cared where he was at that time.  He said that Nixon would have assumed he was at his office at work at that hour - without doubt or question that is what he expected of his staff. And then Jess clarified.  She noted that Nixon wouldn't have cared where Frank was or even taken note of it.  As the President, all you know - or all you need to know - is that when you call someone or need an answer, they will always take your call and always have the answer you want.  Living is easy with eyes closed, indeed!

The rest of the evening was a hit as well.  Hamlet was very well acted, especially the actors who played Hamlet and Polonius.  I was particularly interested in the set and costumes, both of which were modern in feel although didn't necessarily correspond to the tone of this particular Hamlet.  The set - stark, all white, angled - I took to be a modernist Danish look, white the better to show off the acting.  Doug went deeper than I did and saw it as a symbol that everyone in the court but Hamlet had moved on, further highlighting his isolation.  Either way, its best effect was through the use of light and shadow, especially during the to be or not to be soliloquy and during the play within a play (Murder of Gonzago), which was done using a light and shadow show across the faces of the cast and across the white-walled backdrop.

If the "soul of a man is his clothes," then the costumes in this production should have been re-thought.  They were very disappointing and I didn't understand their connection to the play.  My take on the costumes could have had much to do with our seats in the front row or it may have had something to do with my ability to get lost in a detail and lose sight of the bigger picture.  Either way, while Hamlet's and Gertrude's outfits were spot on - he in black and gray, fitted clothing, she in stunning, queenly outfits, all with glitter or jewels - the rest of the cast's outfits were just a bit off.  The clothes themselves were very poorly cut and not well maintained - too large in places, holes in others, shoes unpolished.  This was particularly striking in the uniforms worn by Claudius and King Hamlet.  Uniforms are meant to fit properly, and the effect of them hanging loosely and ill-formed was off-putting to me, especially given the modernity of the set and the other actors' clothing.  I did like that all of the male actors (save Horatio) were fully bearded; that was a nice unifying touch.

And here I am again, lost in the detail and missing the big picture, which this night was enjoying the company of some very interesting people who told great stories with zeal and shared their passion for one of the world's great plays.  Thank you, Washington!