“Then, just when the suspense became overwhelming, the whole audience holding its breath, the curtain did rise, ascending heavenward so fast (where did it go?) and revealing such an explosive cacophony of light and costumes and people singing and dancing that it was more than I could absorb. The whole whirligig of sights and sounds and bodies rushing forward seemed to be aimed directly at me. And there was no letup. Each moment that followed passed too quickly, each shock of delight slid instantaneously, cruelly into memory — a pileup of double-edged sensation in which exhilaration turned instantly into a kind of sorrow.
If only there was a way to hold each moment, to freeze it in time and put it in my pocket and preserve it forever, before it was hopelessly lost!”
From Ghost Light, Frank Rich’s memoir about growing up in and around the theater. Thank you to Blakeney Schick for sending this to me!