1. LISTENING: Camille O'Sullivan singing "Look, Mummy"
The doormat lay on the sidewalk. In a mix of fonts, it welcomed me to the Irish Arts Center. I got my ticket from a large woman squeezed into a small coat closet under the stairs. I squeezed myself into a sagging, crooked seat in the second-to-last row. Four songs in, Camille killed me with her raw, heart-wrenching performance of this raw, heart-wrenching song. When I stopped being dead, my only thought was "I wish I'd written that."
2. SEEING: Shakespeare's Henriad at Brooklyn Academy of Music in late April
I'm a Shakespeare freak. Though I'd dabbled with the Bard in high school, my habit got serious at Harvard thanks to Professor Marjorie Garber's fantastic class on his later works. Garber's swagger was infectious. She encouraged a deep, visceral engagement with the plays and with the phenomenon of "Shakespeare," in quotation marks, as he appears across the centuries.
Ever since, I've seen as many of the plays as I can, wherever I can -- in theaters large and small, in warehouses, on movie screens, on people's porches.