The Commedia Series started out calmly enough in the quiet of "The Fitting Room." From there I'd planned, with the sketch above, to move on to "The Green Room" – the traditional backstage waiting room from where, in orderly fashion, each of my Commedia players would take their turn.
Orderly?!! Did someone say "orderly"? There are just too many characters in this manic gang, and things quickly went out of control.
What's more, each player has a marvellous tradition and history, across countries and centuries – and that led me to an active acquaintance with the historic artists and writers I've come to think of as the Commedia's "enablers." Obviously, when my series came to an end, I'd need to host a celebratory dinner for those who made it all possible.
Oh, dear. Is this my thing? I spent too many years backstage at top-notch fundraising organizations to overlook the opportunity for "donor recognition." But for once, the Harlequins brought me down to earth. With a chuckle, they said, "Only if it's on our terms."
Okay. Their world looks like plenty of fun, but I didn't want them taking over so I decided a less formal Wrap Party was in order. I made a rough layout to get started.
The Pulcinelli rushed in enthusiastically with cries of, "We'll help!"
What could possibly go wrong? Does this look like "helping"? They'd already driven the great artist Tiepolo into Commedia Mania, far worse (make that far better) than mine -- so of course, disruptions in the same vein were to be expected. How about these Japanese masks at the Sakura Cherry Blossom Festival?
Then my friend Y wrote of a Budapest sighting of Harlequin-garbed cyclists….which led me to check out Hungary's connection to Commedia and discover, among other things, a tradition of fine ceramics. Here's a soberly dressed Harlequin balancing on a ball.
If you wonder why I was again going astray down rabbit holes, it's because things were not going well with the Wrap Party. I knew I had to hunker down and get serious when I became totally distracted by Norman Rockwell's "Court Jester."
Okay. So Court Jesters and Commedia are not quite the same thing, but they all hang out in the same entertainment district of human affairs – masks, laughs, pranks, even insights along the way. Rockwell's Jester led me to – Danny Kaye, of all people – another rare almost forgotten funny man. (Sidebar alert: Here's an irresistible sample of Danny in fine form)
Meanwhile, back at the Wrap Party that just couldn't get underway. Despite careful considerations, the right side of an early layer was a dead-end.
Just like the Junior High-era sign that we thought hilarious:
One can only press on -- so invoking an early teacher-by-book, I picked up a large brush and followed his counsel to "Never leave a mistake on the canvas." Here's the result: Painted over. All gone. Fresh surface.
In the process, I thought of my friend GM, who is fascinated by pentimento and the discoveries coming almost annually now of whole different worlds that UV light has revealed beneath painted masterpieces.
For now, as I pick up my brushes again, let's all just enjoy the Harlequin Tulips that have finally emerged all around town – and right in my own front garden.
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