"Snow Day" Flawed But Compelling
By Galadriel T. Winnowsworth
Snow, from the Old English snaw, meaning “snow,” and day, from the Latin diem, meaning day. These are the building blocks of a snow day. Today’s Snow Day deconstructs the typical snow day, breaking it down to its most basic parts. It is this attention to the fundamentals that has made Snow Day such a rousing success among audiences across Harvard.
First, one must consider the snow. It is cold, and it falls from the sky. Such actions remind the audience of rain, but with a twist: snow is solid. Its solidity lends snow a veritable verisimilitude– an ethos, if you would– that water lacks in its liquid form. The snow is reminiscent of the mythic Chione, the Greek goddess of winter and snow. She, too, has to do with snow.
Of course one must also consider the day. This is neither a snow month, nor a snow week. Snow Day considers a much smaller unit of time: the day. A snow hour, or perhaps even a snow minute, would have been much too quick. There would not have been nearly enough snow.
Let us now expend a few sentences discussing the lighting of Snow Day. It was lit from all angles, but clouds obscured the sun. You might say it was much more “snow” than “day,” but that is up to the audience to decide, and not this reviewer.
Was all of this a directorial decision, or perhaps the way things fell into place (a clever pun, no?). Director, from the Greek directoropolous, meaning “one who directs.” Although Snow Day’s director has chosen to remain anonymous, one senses the mysterious director’s presence throughout the entire performance. A metaphor for God, perhaps? That, too, is up to the audience to decide.
Truly, Snow Day is a campus masterpiece. It has brought joy to students across Harvard, and joy derives from the Old French joie, meaning “joy.” Despite its flaws—which this reviewer considers few and far between—Snow Day is a compelling piece of art.