This May Day was completely sans May, and instead a drearily beautiful pastiche of early autumn. The rain-splashed winds in conjunction with the rush of traffic in Times Square made my bell-sleeve floral dress sway gently against my thighs, and I clasped my jacket close to me, smiling through the mist. Sometimes life does imitate art, but I had no idea how fully this chilly Sunday would complement Ivo Van Hove’s rendition of Arthur Miller’s "The Crucible," now on Broadway at the Walter Kerr Theatre.