Bonjour reader, if you are out there.
Last Friday marked the end of our 8 week class period at school. The way the program works, is for the first 8 weeks we take classes from 9-6 everyday. Then we have a week long mid-fall break, which I am currently on, and the last 5 weeks we are in rehearsals for shows that will perform in the middle of December. Last Friday we had auditions for these shows all day for three directors, one of them being Ian Woolridge, the head of our program and our Shakespeare teacher. At 6 pm that night, it was announced which show of the three in which we had been cast in, and we were given scripts to read over the break. The three shows up were Widows, by Ariel Dorfman, The Arsenists, and Measure for Measure. Of course, as I was in Shakespeare mode from the last 8 weeks of study, I wanted desperately to be in Measure for Measure. However, I was cast into the Widows company. Although slightly put off at first, I read the play on my morning train to Paris the next day, and fell absolutley and completely in love with it. The way the play is written, it could cleverly take place anywere in the world, which was the intention of the playwright. He felt that the content is extremely important and valid all over the world. However, it is loosely based on the happenings in Chile while it was under the dictatorship of Augosto Pinochet, and the pain and suffering innocent citizens went through as they continually lost people they loved. It is beautifully written with a lot of deep, often times difficult issues which are still ever relevant in what is going on around us all over the world. It touched me the moment I started reading, and brought tears to my eyes multiple times. Because I had such a visceral reaction to it immediatly, I cannot wait to get to work on it when we return on Monday.
Like I said, I was on my way to Paris! I left early Saturday morning out of London´s St. Pancras train station heading east to the Paris Nord train station, where my Aunt and Uncle, Sam and Judith Pisar, were waiting for me. I had not seen them, I think, since my Grandmother Lizzy´s funeral when I was thirteen. They had been living in Paris for almost thirty years, and when I contacted them a few weeks ago with interest to come visit, they invited me immediatly with open arms. I was greatly interested in getting to know them better. When I got into Paris and walked along the platform, I recognized Judith immediatly -- a gorgeous older woman with dark hair and dark features, classicaly dressed and carrying a small, long-haired dog with an attentive face. Judith is technically my step-aunt. Sam, before he met Judith, was married to my Aunt Norma, an actress and a playwright, who was Lizzy´s sister. They divorced years ago and Sam remarried, yet always remained a strong and vital part of our family. When he married Judith, she was also welcomed immediatly and lovingly into the family, even by Norma. As soon as I walked up to her, the first thing she said was, "Hilary? You look just like Lizzy!" Hearing this, really from anyone, is a huge compliment. If you knew my Grandmother, you would know why. After a few kisses and a hug, we started walking out of the platform and I immediatly see Sam, a man of about 80 wearing a smart hat an a beige coat, waiting a little ways off. We just look at each other for a moment and then embrace, perhaps even a little more intensely then Judith and I did. Although I barely know either of them, the energy surrounding them is familiar and loving, and all they can do is smile at me.
After an extensive car tour lead by Sam throughout the middle of Paris, they took me to their beautiful home just below the Arc de Triumphe. They live literally right next to it, and to the Champs Elysees, and it is a short car ride to the Eiffel Tower and Louvre Museum. I can already tell, by the time we pull up to the house and the images of all of these landmarks I have only seen in movies are swimming in my head, that I am in love. In love with Paris, everything about it, everything I saw -- everything more beautiful then what came before it. I knew a love affair, with Paris as my mistress, had just begun.
The evening of my arrival Judith took me and Sam to see the Russian National Orchestra from Moscow, which was performing in Paris, that night. Judith is heavely involved in the music industry, planning big events all of the world involving classical music. She has a keen and wonderful appreciation of it, and wanted to share it with me that evening. How phenomenal it was! The next day Judith and Sam put me on a 12 pm bus tour of Paris, lasting five hours, in which I saw all of the major landmarks in more detail then my quick drive by with Sam the day before. When the tour ended I walked up and down the Champs Elysees, popping into the beautiful stores and shops all along it, stopping to take photos of the four story Louis Vuitton store for my roommate back in London, who desires desperately to go there one day. That evening, we went out to a lovely seafood restuarant, which was delicious. This is seafood season in Paris. The next day I went to the Louvre for a few hours, and did not even make a dent in seeing the amount of things there are inside the stunning building, which seems to go on for miles. I shopped a bit in the afternoon, walked around, and came back to catch my taxi for my evening flight to Valencia, Spain, in which I am going to visit a friend. I got a taste of the city of lights, a surface, birds-eye view of the beauty in which it exudes around ever corner, and now I know I must return and soon, for much longer.
Although Paris was amazing, nothing can compare to re-connecting with Sam and Judith. They are both lovely, one-of-a-kind people, who remind me so much of my mother´s side of the family, filled with strong, passionate people that inspire me every day. Sam is more famous then I thought he was -- I knew he was well known, because he has written a few books, but that was nothing compared to what I discovered. When Sam was just twelve, living in Poland, he was taken to Germany by the Nazis and for four years was shuffled between concentraion camps during the Holocaust, one of which being Aushwitz, the camp responsible for the biggest extermination of the Jews. Narrowly escaping death multiple times, he was finally liberated when he was sixteen and ended up coming to America, where he went on to study at Harvard and became an extremely well know, and very much loved, lawyer. Throughout his life he wrote a few books, one of which, Of Blood and Hope, which they gave me to read, tells of his experiences in Europe and how he came to survive and triumph over the terrors he went through. I am currently reading it, and cannot put it down. It is real and terrifying, sad and beautiful, inspiring, and a reminder of how dangerous human beings can be and the strength of the human spirit, even in some of the most disgusting, horrifying times. Spending only a few days with Sam, I fell absolutely in love with him and the way in which he looks at the world -- seemingly different then the rest of us, quite, remarkable, and brilliant, and still with so much love even after what he has experienced. And the way in which he and Judith treat each other, years together and still so in love, both so brilliant and loving, full of wisdom, and most importantly, many stories about my family which I had never heard. Stories of my Grandma Lizzy, whom I knew as the most loving, welcoming, beautiful woman I have ever met, stories of my Aunt Norma, her sister, the vivacious, young actress. Stories that need to be heard.
And most important of all -- that I have eyes like Lizzy. Always smiling eyes, they said.
After I left, I hoped on a plane to Valencia, Spain, which is where I am currently. Upon the completion of my week here, I shall write again.
Until then! When I return to London and am back at my computer I will upload some photos of Paris.
This blog is dedicated (how funny...so...21st century) to Lailee Baktiar. She was the third sister, to Lizzy and Norma, who passed away this past Friday night after a long battle of a horrible disease that slowly, over years, ate away at her nervous system. She was just like Lizzy and Norma, vivacious and beautiful, a brilliant doctor who was adopted into the family when she was young from Iran. Another loving, strong woman from my family who has passed on. She will always be loved and remembered.
