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Saturday night I went to the Tu B'Shvat seder at the Tremont Street Shul, to celebrate the new year of the trees. The text we used (PDF, made by Chanaleh) included special recognition of the seven species of Israel, and a lot of other interesting readings about trees and laws about tree-fruit.
This kind of seder is a relatively recent innovation, started by Kabbalists in the mid 1500s, which has never become codified (unlike most other Jewish ritual practice). I think this is why I feel comfortable with a number of things I otherwise tend to dislike, such as everything being in English, or group readings. The general idea of eating different kinds of fruits (those with peels, those with pits, wholly edible fruits) and drinking four glasses of wine/grape juice (tones darkening from white to deep red) while reading exerpts of Jewish texts relevant to trees ends up being done differently in different places, with no one text, nor preferences for particular fruits, which leaves a lot of room for interpretation and innovation.
Sunday morning I went for a walk in Mt. Auburn Cemetery. I haven't been there in ages, and perhaps Sunday wasn't the best time to go, with the wind whistling through the (not enough) layers I was wearing. On the other hand, it meant there was some wonderful ice to crack, some of it so paper thin that it blew away in the next breeze after breaking. (What is it about cracking ice that's so much fun? Irresistable.)
Even with the wind, I had a good time, appreciating names, and epithets, and the stories that many headstones have (explicit or otherwise). (Captains lost at sea, doctors experimenting with vaccines on their own children, successful entrepreneurs dying young, women and their babies dying after childbirth, second wives, unwed children...).
Despite the cold, there was a fat robin perched in a bare tree, rather out of season. And there was an odd-looking tree, all pale and peeling, which the tag identified as "Seven Son's Flower", or something similar. It looks like it's technically a shrub; I wonder if I can get one for my porch (or if it would survive wintering outside in a container).
In the afternoon, I went to the opening night (well, afternoon) performance of Conspiracy of Memory at the Boston Playwright's Theatre. It's the story of a Holocaust survivor (one of the silent types who has not discussed his experiences) now going through the stages of Alzheimer's. Really, there are two main plots, about his mind going, and about what he did to survive the camps, along with how this affects his family.
There was a lot of use of screens that were transparent when lit from behind, and slides, also black light, which worked.
I thought that the production was interesting, but the play isn't quite honed yet. I was left unsure what the playwright's point was. Alzheimer's unlocks doors that might be better left locked? Families should stick by loved ones? No one should judge another's actions in those extreme times? All of these? Something else?
Also noted: the average age of the audience was far higher than any other play I've seen. This is not a surprise, I suppose, considering the topics.
The weekend ended with a five-player game of Cities & Knights. It's the second time I've played with Majes' modification, and I think I'm getting the hang of how to use it more fully.
This weekend has been sponsored by the letters s and c, and by the numbers 2 and 5.
This kind of seder is a relatively recent innovation, started by Kabbalists in the mid 1500s, which has never become codified (unlike most other Jewish ritual practice). I think this is why I feel comfortable with a number of things I otherwise tend to dislike, such as everything being in English, or group readings. The general idea of eating different kinds of fruits (those with peels, those with pits, wholly edible fruits) and drinking four glasses of wine/grape juice (tones darkening from white to deep red) while reading exerpts of Jewish texts relevant to trees ends up being done differently in different places, with no one text, nor preferences for particular fruits, which leaves a lot of room for interpretation and innovation.
Sunday morning I went for a walk in Mt. Auburn Cemetery. I haven't been there in ages, and perhaps Sunday wasn't the best time to go, with the wind whistling through the (not enough) layers I was wearing. On the other hand, it meant there was some wonderful ice to crack, some of it so paper thin that it blew away in the next breeze after breaking. (What is it about cracking ice that's so much fun? Irresistable.)
Even with the wind, I had a good time, appreciating names, and epithets, and the stories that many headstones have (explicit or otherwise). (Captains lost at sea, doctors experimenting with vaccines on their own children, successful entrepreneurs dying young, women and their babies dying after childbirth, second wives, unwed children...).
Despite the cold, there was a fat robin perched in a bare tree, rather out of season. And there was an odd-looking tree, all pale and peeling, which the tag identified as "Seven Son's Flower", or something similar. It looks like it's technically a shrub; I wonder if I can get one for my porch (or if it would survive wintering outside in a container).
In the afternoon, I went to the opening night (well, afternoon) performance of Conspiracy of Memory at the Boston Playwright's Theatre. It's the story of a Holocaust survivor (one of the silent types who has not discussed his experiences) now going through the stages of Alzheimer's. Really, there are two main plots, about his mind going, and about what he did to survive the camps, along with how this affects his family.
There was a lot of use of screens that were transparent when lit from behind, and slides, also black light, which worked.
I thought that the production was interesting, but the play isn't quite honed yet. I was left unsure what the playwright's point was. Alzheimer's unlocks doors that might be better left locked? Families should stick by loved ones? No one should judge another's actions in those extreme times? All of these? Something else?
Also noted: the average age of the audience was far higher than any other play I've seen. This is not a surprise, I suppose, considering the topics.
The weekend ended with a five-player game of Cities & Knights. It's the second time I've played with Majes' modification, and I think I'm getting the hang of how to use it more fully.
This weekend has been sponsored by the letters s and c, and by the numbers 2 and 5.