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Nov. 1st, 2003
ex haus ted
Nov. 1st, 2003 09:30 amI forget that you don't often get to really bond with your fellow actors in a community theatre production until sometime during tech week. I've never really understood it - well, it was a mystery to me at times -why- you would even want to assume that your fellow cast member should automatically = friend, but at the same time, what about that final week before you open makes it suddenly so easy to gain rapport with a dozen people all at once?
Exhaustion. The pure strain of not stopping for weeks - the endless rehearsals, the quick dinners wolfed down at home before hopping into the car and driving like a madwoman to the theatre, dreading the day job you have to get up early for the next day. All of this takes its toll in the 4, 5, 6 weeks you have before the stage is awash in different kinds of pretty lights, and you're pulling on clothes dozens of people have worn before you.
Suddenly those people who you've been dancing around carefully are showing their exhaustion, too. Maybe they're irritated or feeling a bit more raw - you can see it coming through their line delivery, or the phrasing of a song. A flat photograph suddenly springs into full 3 dimensions. You learn that they have two kids, or that they just drove in from Wisconsin that day, trying to beat rush hour to make it to rehearsal on time.
Along with the exhaustion comes trust: after the month or so you've had of watching someone struggle with their lines, or mark their work instead of playing out fully, things come together. Quite suddenly, in fact. The tension you feel when entering one particular scene is no longer warranted - the intentions are there, the footing is solid, the movement is blocked, and the lines are all well-remembered and delivered with consistency. Breathing is easier. The mind does not race as much because you're fairly sure you're not going to have to improvise a line or two. Even if you do, you're better prepared, because you know what the other characters are all about, now.
So, yeah. All this to say that we all went to La Majada after the second preview Thursday night, and through a carefully-rationed margarita and some chips, I was happily (and tiredly) enveloped in a sense of comfortable cameraderie with some of the cast and crew. We're not Best Friends 4 Evah, but it's nice to find a group of fairly well-adjusted and reasonable people to hang out with for a little while.
All the digital naysayers, critics, shit-stirrers and malcontents fade into obscurity and meaninglessness in the face of nights like that.
Opening night is tonight. I am excited. We've got a really good and interesting show, and I feel like I am a significant part of that.
A scan of the postcard for the play is on my website, so click the above photo to get to it!
Exhaustion. The pure strain of not stopping for weeks - the endless rehearsals, the quick dinners wolfed down at home before hopping into the car and driving like a madwoman to the theatre, dreading the day job you have to get up early for the next day. All of this takes its toll in the 4, 5, 6 weeks you have before the stage is awash in different kinds of pretty lights, and you're pulling on clothes dozens of people have worn before you.
Suddenly those people who you've been dancing around carefully are showing their exhaustion, too. Maybe they're irritated or feeling a bit more raw - you can see it coming through their line delivery, or the phrasing of a song. A flat photograph suddenly springs into full 3 dimensions. You learn that they have two kids, or that they just drove in from Wisconsin that day, trying to beat rush hour to make it to rehearsal on time.
Along with the exhaustion comes trust: after the month or so you've had of watching someone struggle with their lines, or mark their work instead of playing out fully, things come together. Quite suddenly, in fact. The tension you feel when entering one particular scene is no longer warranted - the intentions are there, the footing is solid, the movement is blocked, and the lines are all well-remembered and delivered with consistency. Breathing is easier. The mind does not race as much because you're fairly sure you're not going to have to improvise a line or two. Even if you do, you're better prepared, because you know what the other characters are all about, now.
So, yeah. All this to say that we all went to La Majada after the second preview Thursday night, and through a carefully-rationed margarita and some chips, I was happily (and tiredly) enveloped in a sense of comfortable cameraderie with some of the cast and crew. We're not Best Friends 4 Evah, but it's nice to find a group of fairly well-adjusted and reasonable people to hang out with for a little while.
All the digital naysayers, critics, shit-stirrers and malcontents fade into obscurity and meaninglessness in the face of nights like that.
Opening night is tonight. I am excited. We've got a really good and interesting show, and I feel like I am a significant part of that.
A scan of the postcard for the play is on my website, so click the above photo to get to it!