Center Stage MDT performs scenes from the musical Ordinary Days, following Deb, Cory, and Lori through coffee shops and subway rides. The piece weaves everyday dialogue with songs about finding meaning in mundane moments, touching on thesis stress, artistic ambition, and what beauty actually means.
By itself. In the meantime, I have one teeny little question to propose to you. As one academic to another academic, have you ever seen at least a whole entire copy of a research paper? Guys, we're about to toss in our pool items. I might put the wreath on the subway platform. So I hope you guys can keep up with me. Whoa, smiley face. I got an email. Dear Deb, we should meet so I can get you back your book. Okay. Another email. Dear Deb, we should meet somewhere in public so you won't be harassed. I'll have a mocha caramel latte chino made with skim milk, foam, and cream. Please put that in a morning cup, but use the same amount of coffee that you put into a tall. That way there's about an inch of extra room on top to stir my own nothing without spilling any coffee at all. What do you want? I'll have a tea. What kind? Just tea. He'll have your green argility tea, which I am sure you know cannot be steeped for more than 95 seconds. Shall we? So what's your deal? My what? What are you about? Well, I'm about 6 foot 1, I guess. You really don't find me funny at all. Funny, yes, but you think I look a bit serious. I want to know, describe to me your favorite artist. Well, there's a Picasso. Don't start. And another one. We all have one. I haven't got that far ahead. I mean, I work for horses. I don't know, I'd watch his cat. And this morning I fixed his curtain rod. So what's yours? Is it quite apparent what I'm supposed to do to get it? My what? Oh, it's sort of gotten cold. <LYRICS>These stupid reasons don't know how to heal the plot. Death is really okay. Look, I know that we just met, but it seems to me that maybe you might want to get some perspective on this big picture. Big, after all, is a relative term. Talk about this big picture. It shouldn't be something on which you stand firm. You're in a rut.</LYRICS> Who cares? So what if your picture's not quite clear? I mean, let's meet. This could be a really big picture right here. Oh my God, you're right. See? Sitting here at Starbucks drinking mediocre coffee with a professional cat sitter is all my life is going to amount to. What time is it? I have to go. You don't have to go. Yes, I do. I have to go. Deb, there's something I want to show you. What, Deb? Then soon. Promise. Call me then. Don't call me. Sup! I am on the 6th rank heading club couch while I'm in the professor's office. It's like light years off of campus, so ask me why. I'm sandwiched in between this guy who is literally drooling and some European history who, well, I'll just be honest, smells. What do you got? A freshman in the air. What do you got, Smith? A freshman. Well, I'm not so impressed. I feel like Bill Clinton's the best I've ever smelled. Oh my crap. Really cold. Like, high-speed climbing. Like, totally freak me out. Like, I'm going to slowly go crazy and throw myself off of the balcony. No! Yeah, it worked. Oh, I terrified hostage. I had to walk to the next station. Of course, the subway's broken, so I walked. I walked. I'm like 14 10 hours later, I get back to my apartment with my crazy spastic roommates and a room, well, of my own. I bought this black and white poster online that says "My Dad Has It" and I give it to the speaker. But I like my music. And then suddenly I'm struck by this bizarre revelation that I like boring, blacked-out, giving my opinions and explanations. I sit in my bed and I memorize my laundry. Home. Wow, look at this view! I know, it's stunning. I'm sorry that you live here. Well, I'm not sick, I'm an artist. Oh, not really. Trust fund. Oh my graduate dissertation office. Is that what one does? Is that what it is? They have pizza! Windows right there. Fifth floor. That flower pot, that was not there before. Come up here every day and you watch the landscape shifting. Painted bar that speaks its name. Stays the same. No one sees me. I come here every day and see the world evolving from the curtains of windows to the sky. But I stay just the same and no one ever sees me because I, I know that I'll never stand. As tall as these buildings, I'll never quite reach the sky. These pages I read are just assuring. I'd rather see them die. Yeah, it was sort of a project, but no one ever took them. They're much better off out there. You gotta see this. Is that mine? Ah, the view of your dreams. That's mine. Keep it. The rest are going over the edge. Wait, Cory. Oh my God. What about your thesis? It's all wrong. The whole thing is wrong. I don't even like Virginia Woolf. Her life was so messy. I mean, it's not right. It's sloppy. It's not like— Less story. Yeah. Hey, we're waiting. Okay. Hey, ready? Yes. On your mark, get set, go! I know. Look, look. I don't see— Lori, you've been walking over the whole packing stash. You have 8 more things remaining. Oh my gosh. So you can choose any one, and we're standing in front of the station of everything beads. It's beautiful, right? Oh, it is. It's amazing. Well, part of our trip to to the mess, because I get to explain. So this is a painting of what? That's right, that's right. And the artist has us looking at what? Well, yes. The point is that things aren't beautiful all on their own. Beautiful comes from reflection. Beautiful takes a person who makes a connection. You know what I mean? For beautiful to happen, the beautiful has got to be seen. It's simple, familiar, and full of feeling. The color of shouting from rooftops. The colors of dreaming that life is okay.
