In May we lost another friend of LA theatre; Romanian director Florinel Fatulescu. Deb and I have known Florinel and his wife and partner Rodica for a couple of decades through our friend Alan Goodson, who was in one of 24th Street’s first shows, The Music of Magdalena Bay. We’ve shared many meals with Florinel and Rodica at Alan’s house over these years. And we’ve seen several of Florinel’s plays. 

Florinel was an expert in theatre of the absurd. Eastern European works with huge casts were his specialty. And he made them work with inspired physical theatre and clowning. And with his vast experience in that part of the world which takes theatre so seriously. He was a serious guy, until you got to know him. Then you could see the boyish enthusiasm that hid behind his stoic Eastern European demeanor.

Florinel’s funeral was in May, but we had an afterschool class final performance that afternoon. Deb thought it important to go to Florinel’s funeral, so I held down the fort that day and she attended. She told me about the releasing of Doves and how everybody put on a red clown nose to honor his expertise in clowning. Debbie was quite impressed with the sweetness of it all. 

Rodica surprised us the next weekend when she came to see our show, La Razón Blindada. She looked strong. Fundamentally strong. I knew she was going to be okay after seeing her. 

The next weekend was closing of La Razon Blindada. It turns out that a father from Deb’s Colburn theatre class lives next door to another old theatre friend of ours; Don Llewellen, a retired USC professor for over 40 years. It turned out that Don was getting rid of some of his theatre books and wanted to donate them to 24th STreet. They’d arranged to come drop the books off on closing Sunday, before the show. It is always great to see Don, and he looked wonderful. We graciously accepted his gift of books, and caught up a bit before Don left. Then we turned our attention back to the empanadas of our closing reception and the final performance.

We closed the show and got back to the regular business of the theatre the next week with Don’s two boxes of books still sitting backstage. Debbie randomly grabbed a book from one of the boxes the other day. Diablogues by Roland Dubillard. It was a book of monologues. She became captivated by it and read three scenes. Then a piece of paper fell out of the book and onto the floor. It was a letter folded in half. From the Ambassade de France aux Etats – Unis to producers about this play. From the early 2000’s, in hopes of getting the show produced in America. 

“The first-ever American production of these sketches opened in Los Angeles on June 8, 2001 at the Tiffany Theatre, directed by Florinel Fatulescu...” 

“Wait, What?” Deb said aloud. She read it again. It was Florinel. They were talking about Florinel in this letter from more than 20 years ago. After Deb had just been to Florinel’s funeral. Was it a sign? From Florinel? Or from the Theatre Gods? Or just coincidence that she picked that particular book out of many? And that the letter fell out onto the backstage floor?

Deb told Florinel’s wife, Rodica, about this strange happening. Rodica said “If it was Florinel, he was telling us to keep laughing.”