It was only a decade ago that I was resistant to stark truth in art. As I’ve evolved emotionally and spiritually, my cultural preferences are more edgy and scathingly honest.
And so, what a treat to see Antoinette LaVecchia’s How to Be a Good Italian Daughter (In Spite of Myself) at the Cherry Lane Theatre in the West Village tonight. It’s a one-woman show and LaVecchia gives herself over to the audience. I laughed out loud and even got choked up a few times.
She called it a celebration of her mother in the Q&A after the show. Don’t mistake that for a glossed-over, sappy, sentimental celebration, either. It’s real. It’s an Italian mother in all her no-boundaries glory, loving and bossing and not shy about stating her opinions.
The artist in me was inspired. Just a splendid experience.
