What an odd day.  I’ve been trying to stay in February all day – the month really hasn’t ended, but my brain can’t compute it (just like the DMV and all the other places that don’t have a spot for February 29th – poor “leapers!”).  I’ve also been leaping from topic to topic, project to project…going back six months, forward another eight…I think I prefer the forward momentum.

Onward…to rehearsals for Exit the King, to p.r. schedules and due dates for materials…to the final weekend of Wake Up, Cameron Dobbs, and more.  To planning, figuring, shaping, looking at where we are now and where we want to be.  I want to learn more about how to introduce people to who we are and what we do in our snug little theatre underground…it’s on my list.

And a tiny nod to the past, especially today – thinking of you Chris – happy birthday.

OK, so I know I was tired yesterday, but what a different kind of dream – to go from the present-day realism of Wake Up, Cameron Dobbs to a rehearsal for the absurdist comedy Exit The King.  I always hope the cast feels by the end of the run that the blocking rehearsal is the most painful thing they had to do during the production, because blocking is dreadful.  Basic blocking is does the actor have to be seen, do lines dictate that he/she is doing something specific (if the actor is saying “The floor I’m lying on is really hard,” it makes it an odd choice for them to be sitting at a desk, for example)…

I talked in an earlier post about stage directions.  Those comforting lines of italics that tell you at least one other actor found a way to move the show forward…that some people treat like gospel, and others start by marking out with a nice, thick black line.  I tend to ignore them, but for this show, a lot of them make sense (yes, I can hear you all sniggering from here).  So the poor actors had to pay attention…then ignore…then move them one line earlier…cross them out…put them back in…and yet they are all coming back for more tomorrow.  I love them all.

Once you know where you’re going, then you can think about what you’d like to do on the way, so ten more pages and we’re off.  Then it’s back for the final weekend of Cameron Dobbs, and then we will truly inhabit the stage (and the world) of King Beringer as his kingdom disappears around him.  Interesting, that…making things disappear.  We shall persevere.

OK, so I’m up now.  I haven’t really been sleeping all day, truly, but this is the first minute I had to sit down and process the opening.  It was a wild ride and a whole lot of fun, onstage and off.  Robert and I unloaded all the supplies from my car and hauled them in on a cart – I just wanted to be prepared, and with the big crowd, you just never know who’s going to want more to eat or drink.  Sean sliced the brownies, and Pauline helped me wrap and tie them…and did i mention there’s a new biscotti flavor? (We’ve also taken the noise out of unwrapping them…nice quiet napkins instead of cellophane…always thinking, that’s Mark and Merri).  Dorothy and Jerry made the coffee and iced the drinks..should we put out different kinds of sweeteners, or just stick to blue…or pink?

And that was just the frantic pace between 6pm and 7pm.  The stage was set, give the actors a final walk through, and people are starting to come in..lots of people.  It was so exciting, with the lobby full of people who were ready to see something that no one, anywhere had ever seen a performance of before.  Even now that gives me a thrill – every performance is new, fresh, but when it’s the very first… Wow!  It made me think about firsts for all the shows we know and love…the first time audiences heard from Shakespeare, Williams, Wasserstein, Howe, Mamet…

You have a rhythm in rehearsal.  Things get said at the same time, sometimes with the same intent, and you remind yourself that audiences change that – you hope they will, anyway – with their responses.  Will they laugh, will they gasp, will they join in?  It’s so wonderful when they do.  It means they are with you, inside the experience that now is being created with a whole roomful of other people.  Thank you to the audience from last night for surrounding us with love and laughter – we send thanks in advance to future houses for telling us YES, this is good, we’re enjoying ourselves.