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Adam really did feed the Rats, on schedule, for 13 weeks straight. His generosity in sharing so much of his time and attention on that sidewalk outside the Lortel meant that there was an embarrassment of riches as far as anecdotes, photos, and video clips, a treasure trove that in other times might have remained buried in scattered fragments in private photo collections.
But I'm happy to say that the "Hold On To Me Darling" era is a shining example of the generosity of spirit that demonstrates the power of fandom at it's best. The spontaneous sharing of those bits of documentation, both right there on the pavement and online, made this a communal experience. In a day and age where everyone has a camera, we essentially have a crowdsourced recording of every stage door appearance, and stitching all of that together has left us with an enormous quilt of joy, witnessed, supported, and amplified by a community linked by their shared enthusiasm. I can't thank the source accounts enough for their service in sharing posts and celebrating with us so that everyone, regardless of their ability to actually attend the play, got to experience the extended emotional rush that is a theater run.
I made it all of one week after Adam made his final stage-door farewell before I was missing that emotional rush pretty fiercely; reminiscing on the year gone by had me flipping through my photos from that week in late September, remembering how much fun I'd had and all the incredible people I'd gotten to meet, one of whom happens to be the subject of this painting. This painting, which only exists because another one of those people, that I'd met in person just 3 hours earlier, was so kind and generous as to immediately share what she'd recorded.
Adam is making his gracious exit out of our little stage-door moment with him, being sure to make solid eye contact with me so that I felt the sincerity of his softly spoken "thank you" down to the roots of my bones. He'd been running his hand through his hair, leaving the forelock a bit tangled where he'd pushed it back up on top of his head, the end of it draggling a little alongside his face. His head is tilted a little to his left and his gaze, for all of it's direct intensity, is very soft; the lower eyelids pursed as they curve upwards with his gentle smile. The blurry nature of my reference, a still frame from a cell phone video clip taken at night from 10 feet away, means that smaller details like his moles are merely suggestions, but I love how the light from the light over the stage door shines on the right side of his face; it sparkles in his eyes, catches on the textures along the bridge of his nose, gently limns the underside of his nose and the brush of his whiskers, and runs along the swell of his lower lip, leaving his left side lit by the gentle glow of the streetlight.
I am so thankful to have that little video clip, and for the unrecorded memories I have with all those wonderful people I met that week. If I'm entirely honest, "missing HOTMD hours" is really "missing my Rat friends and our adventures together". So much of the joy of fandom really is the people you meet along the way!
The reference for this one was a frame from a video clip taken by mbee4 at the stage door on 26 Sep 2024, and was used with her permission. Thank you so much, M!
About 7 hours of painting time for this one; there were a number of background elements that I ended up deciding to simplify out of existence, and I fussed at it a bit and had probably three "final" versions before I finally made myself walk away. And, once again, I was unable to resist the allure of my "sodium lamp remix" color gradient map. I was hoping for this to be the last piece of the year, celebrating a moment that is THE highlight of 2024 for me, but instead it gets to be the joyful first work of 2025.
But I'm happy to say that the "Hold On To Me Darling" era is a shining example of the generosity of spirit that demonstrates the power of fandom at it's best. The spontaneous sharing of those bits of documentation, both right there on the pavement and online, made this a communal experience. In a day and age where everyone has a camera, we essentially have a crowdsourced recording of every stage door appearance, and stitching all of that together has left us with an enormous quilt of joy, witnessed, supported, and amplified by a community linked by their shared enthusiasm. I can't thank the source accounts enough for their service in sharing posts and celebrating with us so that everyone, regardless of their ability to actually attend the play, got to experience the extended emotional rush that is a theater run.
I made it all of one week after Adam made his final stage-door farewell before I was missing that emotional rush pretty fiercely; reminiscing on the year gone by had me flipping through my photos from that week in late September, remembering how much fun I'd had and all the incredible people I'd gotten to meet, one of whom happens to be the subject of this painting. This painting, which only exists because another one of those people, that I'd met in person just 3 hours earlier, was so kind and generous as to immediately share what she'd recorded.
Adam is making his gracious exit out of our little stage-door moment with him, being sure to make solid eye contact with me so that I felt the sincerity of his softly spoken "thank you" down to the roots of my bones. He'd been running his hand through his hair, leaving the forelock a bit tangled where he'd pushed it back up on top of his head, the end of it draggling a little alongside his face. His head is tilted a little to his left and his gaze, for all of it's direct intensity, is very soft; the lower eyelids pursed as they curve upwards with his gentle smile. The blurry nature of my reference, a still frame from a cell phone video clip taken at night from 10 feet away, means that smaller details like his moles are merely suggestions, but I love how the light from the light over the stage door shines on the right side of his face; it sparkles in his eyes, catches on the textures along the bridge of his nose, gently limns the underside of his nose and the brush of his whiskers, and runs along the swell of his lower lip, leaving his left side lit by the gentle glow of the streetlight.
I am so thankful to have that little video clip, and for the unrecorded memories I have with all those wonderful people I met that week. If I'm entirely honest, "missing HOTMD hours" is really "missing my Rat friends and our adventures together". So much of the joy of fandom really is the people you meet along the way!
The reference for this one was a frame from a video clip taken by mbee4 at the stage door on 26 Sep 2024, and was used with her permission. Thank you so much, M!
About 7 hours of painting time for this one; there were a number of background elements that I ended up deciding to simplify out of existence, and I fussed at it a bit and had probably three "final" versions before I finally made myself walk away. And, once again, I was unable to resist the allure of my "sodium lamp remix" color gradient map. I was hoping for this to be the last piece of the year, celebrating a moment that is THE highlight of 2024 for me, but instead it gets to be the joyful first work of 2025.
