I forgot one essential costume piece for Thursday’s performance:
The glasses.
I noticed they were missing with about half a page of dialogue left. I considered running to the dressing room to grab them, but I would have most certainly missed my cue, and I would have been short of breath, and I may have fallen backstage. There were a number of possible hazards involved.
Right before my cue, I told myself it’s not going to be a problem. They are just glasses. It’s no big deal. They weren’t even an original part of the costume design. It was just an extra little thing the designer handed me. I looked at them and though: “is he serious?”
These glasses are ridiculous. But that accessory along with the hat I wear are the critical elements (for me) that make Schmendiman zing to life. They are the last thing I put on before going on stage, and I was a bit distracted (to be honest).
Think caterpillar in Alice in Wonderland. They’re kind of marbely dark brown and black on the frames. Perfect circle lenses that magnify the eyes. It’s a treat, let me tell ya.
I burst on stage and it was the weirdest sensation. My face felt naked and I was hyper self-conscious about being self-conscious.
Frustrating to say the least. The audience wouldn't know any difference. I don’t even know if my fellow castmates knew (some did).
I won’t be forgetting them again, but it’s odd and strange how this ONE detail threw me off my game. Makes me mad that I let it. Everything on stage should have this notion that it's happening for the first time at that moment. Spontaneity is key, and muscle memory has been worked inside body and mind...it's frightening that I'm in a kind of a rut (or perceived one anyway). I've been doing this role since MAY. You'd think I'd embrace such a "change," but that wasn't the case.
I’m not gonna beat myself up about it.
There's another chance tonight; it's a sold-out house. This run will close a month from now.
Showing posts with label performing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label performing. Show all posts
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Performing one show, rehearsing another
The silence over here can only be explained by the rigors of tech week layered with a desk job at the same company AND beginning rehearsals for John Gabriel Borkman. Needless to say, I've been overwhelmed.
But talking to audience members after the show eliminates all the anxiety I had about Death and the Ploughman. It seems to be received well. There's good buzz about according to some other company members. We've provided a doozy of a play. A couple people even told us that this production was certainly comparable, if not better than the stuff they see in the Cities (and a lot that's in the Cities is good).
I'm relieved. I didn't know how this particular show was going to pan out. I'm having a good time, but it's difficult work that requires absolute specificity with so much text to chew through. I've been battling a sore, tired throat and have a bit of a cold.
We've only got six more performances for Death and the Ploughman. Click on the link to see some pictures from the show. It just looks BEAUTIFUL on stage. There's so much color. If only you could hear the music we have as underscoring. This is a show of which I'm incredibly proud.
Tonight is a gala for the apprentices. I've got some friends attending the next few performances. It's a great time. Spring has sprung and I've got a great sense of rejuvenation.
--------------------------------
As far as John Gabriel Borkman is concerned....
Jeffrey Hatcher, renowned playwright, has written an adaptation of Ibsen's John Gabriel Borkman. He's made it more conversational and less British than previous translations. We're setting this in a non-specific contemporary world (and we're very conscious of the Bernie Madoff scandal).
I just did a costume fitting and it's exciting to have this energy swirling for another production already! At the moment, I'm in skinny black jeans with a dress shirt, tie, and hip charcoal coat with big ol' buttons everywhere. It's very hip. I'm playing Erhart, John's son (who wants nothing to do with his family).
This rehearsal process is very interesting. There's a lot of mystery to the story, and something the cast is working to collectively find answers.
Our "homework" for next week:
Every character will show their greatest moment of happiness and greatest moment of sadness (prior to the play). Each must involve the plot and one moment must involve another character within the story. This is away of creating a living history so that we can turn to those moments as they inform us with what is happening on stage. I'm excited, there's going to be quite a lot of creativity and imagination (of course) for this to thrive.
But now, I have to clean my room. It's in such a shambles and fueling any stress I'm going through for the past week. Maybe I'll catch up on Lost before then.
But talking to audience members after the show eliminates all the anxiety I had about Death and the Ploughman. It seems to be received well. There's good buzz about according to some other company members. We've provided a doozy of a play. A couple people even told us that this production was certainly comparable, if not better than the stuff they see in the Cities (and a lot that's in the Cities is good).
I'm relieved. I didn't know how this particular show was going to pan out. I'm having a good time, but it's difficult work that requires absolute specificity with so much text to chew through. I've been battling a sore, tired throat and have a bit of a cold.
We've only got six more performances for Death and the Ploughman. Click on the link to see some pictures from the show. It just looks BEAUTIFUL on stage. There's so much color. If only you could hear the music we have as underscoring. This is a show of which I'm incredibly proud.
Tonight is a gala for the apprentices. I've got some friends attending the next few performances. It's a great time. Spring has sprung and I've got a great sense of rejuvenation.
--------------------------------
As far as John Gabriel Borkman is concerned....
Jeffrey Hatcher, renowned playwright, has written an adaptation of Ibsen's John Gabriel Borkman. He's made it more conversational and less British than previous translations. We're setting this in a non-specific contemporary world (and we're very conscious of the Bernie Madoff scandal).
I just did a costume fitting and it's exciting to have this energy swirling for another production already! At the moment, I'm in skinny black jeans with a dress shirt, tie, and hip charcoal coat with big ol' buttons everywhere. It's very hip. I'm playing Erhart, John's son (who wants nothing to do with his family).
This rehearsal process is very interesting. There's a lot of mystery to the story, and something the cast is working to collectively find answers.
Our "homework" for next week:
Every character will show their greatest moment of happiness and greatest moment of sadness (prior to the play). Each must involve the plot and one moment must involve another character within the story. This is away of creating a living history so that we can turn to those moments as they inform us with what is happening on stage. I'm excited, there's going to be quite a lot of creativity and imagination (of course) for this to thrive.
But now, I have to clean my room. It's in such a shambles and fueling any stress I'm going through for the past week. Maybe I'll catch up on Lost before then.
Friday, March 5, 2010
I've got a picture
Here's a teaser publicity photo we took today.
We're getting closer and closer to tech and all that.
I hope people come to this show. It's not a downer the whole time, I promise.
We did a run today. It went well; I think. There were some moments that really surprised me. We've got a couple days off. I'll be reviewing lines and some spotty sections. I can't wait to add the music and lights, and I love the suit I get to wear.
Later.
We're getting closer and closer to tech and all that.
I hope people come to this show. It's not a downer the whole time, I promise.
We did a run today. It went well; I think. There were some moments that really surprised me. We've got a couple days off. I'll be reviewing lines and some spotty sections. I can't wait to add the music and lights, and I love the suit I get to wear.
Later.
Friday, December 11, 2009
Snow Daze
We've were dumped with snow. And I have proof.
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This is just outside the theatre. I attempted to show how deep the snow got in some places, but that failed.
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The bluff nearby. I'm not sure if this photo can give the proper justice it deserves. Earlier this morning, the sun hit the bluff and made it all shiny with this haunting pinkish tint. You'll just have to take my word for it.
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Obligatory here's-my-car-underneath-a-ton-of-snow picture. Take a look at the front left part of the hood.
--------------------------------------------------
Because of all the snow, I've been cooped up in the house, working on monologues. Here's the initials of every word to a Romeo monologue. It's a handy way to check memorization without having all the words in front of you:
----------------------------------------------
WE HAD A PERFORMANCE OF 1940'S RADIO HOUR last night. It was so great to be back on stage after three days of sitting around and watching movies. I did a bit of cleaning, but it was a ton of nothing. Last night, I finally had to walk to the gas station and get some milk (it's about a mile walk, round trip). My eyelashes felt particularly frosty after that trip.
BUT I DIGRESS.
The show was a lot of fun. It felt great to have a renewed sense of energy and purpose. The crowd was rather...inebriated... They were responsive to us, but it got to be a bit annoying and distracting.
I have a tiny speech where I talk about being in flight training and going off to war.
I said: "I got a call last night from my folks in Greenwood, Indiana..." I paused, trying to find the best way to say "and they said the best Christmas present I could give them next year would be my being home." Well, before going into that weighty bit, a couple people started cheering, applauding:
"WOO! Indiana!!!"
I stopped, hoping the silence would shut them up. It worked, but it put me completely out of the rest of the speech.
The audience acts as the actual audience of the radio show that is broadcast live throughout New York. So we interact with them and appreciate some verbal nods here and there. This time though...it was unwelcome.
A baby was also in the audience. It wasn't too distracting. While I was changing into my tap shoes and Ann is singing "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas," I heard the baby coo. The mics picked that up into the dressing room feed. That was pretty adorable.
AND THEN TODAY we had 200 middle/high school students catching the show. They just didn't seem to appreciate the 40's. It's funny how one night the entire audience knows ALL the music, and the next it goes right over their heads. I think they ended up enjoying the show (or getting out of classes for a morning).
--------------------------------------------------------------
This is just outside the theatre. I attempted to show how deep the snow got in some places, but that failed.
--------------------------------------------------------------
The bluff nearby. I'm not sure if this photo can give the proper justice it deserves. Earlier this morning, the sun hit the bluff and made it all shiny with this haunting pinkish tint. You'll just have to take my word for it.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Obligatory here's-my-car-underneath-a-ton-of-snow picture. Take a look at the front left part of the hood.
--------------------------------------------------
Because of all the snow, I've been cooped up in the house, working on monologues. Here's the initials of every word to a Romeo monologue. It's a handy way to check memorization without having all the words in front of you:
----------------------------------------------
WE HAD A PERFORMANCE OF 1940'S RADIO HOUR last night. It was so great to be back on stage after three days of sitting around and watching movies. I did a bit of cleaning, but it was a ton of nothing. Last night, I finally had to walk to the gas station and get some milk (it's about a mile walk, round trip). My eyelashes felt particularly frosty after that trip.
BUT I DIGRESS.
The show was a lot of fun. It felt great to have a renewed sense of energy and purpose. The crowd was rather...inebriated... They were responsive to us, but it got to be a bit annoying and distracting.
I have a tiny speech where I talk about being in flight training and going off to war.
I said: "I got a call last night from my folks in Greenwood, Indiana..." I paused, trying to find the best way to say "and they said the best Christmas present I could give them next year would be my being home." Well, before going into that weighty bit, a couple people started cheering, applauding:
"WOO! Indiana!!!"
I stopped, hoping the silence would shut them up. It worked, but it put me completely out of the rest of the speech.
The audience acts as the actual audience of the radio show that is broadcast live throughout New York. So we interact with them and appreciate some verbal nods here and there. This time though...it was unwelcome.
A baby was also in the audience. It wasn't too distracting. While I was changing into my tap shoes and Ann is singing "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas," I heard the baby coo. The mics picked that up into the dressing room feed. That was pretty adorable.
AND THEN TODAY we had 200 middle/high school students catching the show. They just didn't seem to appreciate the 40's. It's funny how one night the entire audience knows ALL the music, and the next it goes right over their heads. I think they ended up enjoying the show (or getting out of classes for a morning).
Saturday, September 12, 2009
MN Shorts Play Festival
Yesterday I put up posters all around town for the theatre. I’ve still got more to go, but I was able to get a large chunk of them done. It was hot. It didn’t make sense to me since it seems we’re in full autumn swing mode. Ah well.
I attended a development team meeting. It looks like I’ll be visiting some classes this fall to explain more about our company and discuss the themes and elements of THE RAINMAKER. That could be a lot of fun, I think. I’m also going to be learning more about the world of grants and foundations. It all sounds pretty fascinating to me.
After the meeting, I got my things together, pulled a suit and some shirts out for a costume, and hopped in the car with the writer/director of the ten-minute play and his wife, who was my scene partner for NOTHING HAPPENED. We traveled to Mankato, MN for this short play festival.
The festival was in an old school that has been converted to a community center. We had a makeshift greenroom, which was just a section of a hallway that was curtained off. It wasn’t a huge deal; we were only there for five hours tops.
The strange thing about this event is that none of us had any idea of what to expect. It seemed like it was a large blend of professional/academic/community theatre. I was really nervous for some reason. My scene partner and I decided was that it seemed just like an audition. You’ve got all these actors in a rather small space, waiting to go on stage for ten minutes. Some people are very friendly to strangers. Others know each other. I didn’t know anyone.
Ah well. I must say that we did a pretty fine job. We performed the play twice. We were second on, so we were able to catch most of the other shows in the audience. Boy was that auditorium hot. And there was a lot of variety in the plays. One was about a woman with a puppy attempting to attract men. Another play was written and performed by a sophomore in college and it was all about crying and these different stages of relationships and age. Another play was about this washed out rock band who was getting past middle age and debating the merits of tour and going on for a fifth encore.
The writer of our play (and fellow company member) did say that whenever there was laughter from other plays, it was only pockets of people who were friends of the people on stage. In our case, no one knew us. So when we got laughs, it was from the entire house. That was cool to hear.
I guess I didn’t even describe what the play I was doing is about.
I played Eric, who is sitting in a nice restaurant on New Year’s Eve. He’s about to propose to his girlfriend, Stephanie, but he’s got a lot of doubts. He’s had a habit of calling upon his former fiancé, Jennifer, just to hash out his problems. So Jennifer arrives (it’s all in his mind, so he uses his cellphone to talk to her, so as not to appear crazy. But since this is theatre, an actual actress appears and sits at the table—it’s pretty clever, actually. The two exchange pleasantries and get into a bit of an argument. Things get heated, and Eric denies that he’s trying to compare Jennifer to Stephanie. He also (finally) admits that he desperately wants to be “different from the man you couldn’t marry.”
What’s so interesting is how, in ten minutes, you go through a beginning, middle, and end. This play has a LOT going on, and I think we pulled it off with some success (not that this was a competition or anything). That’s hard to do in ten minutes.
I wonder if I’ve got a ten minute play or two I could write out. Who knows!
I’m glad I had the chance to do this. It was a great side project and nice change of pace from doing the same show for the past three months (not that I’m getting tired of THE RAINMAKER).
I attended a development team meeting. It looks like I’ll be visiting some classes this fall to explain more about our company and discuss the themes and elements of THE RAINMAKER. That could be a lot of fun, I think. I’m also going to be learning more about the world of grants and foundations. It all sounds pretty fascinating to me.
After the meeting, I got my things together, pulled a suit and some shirts out for a costume, and hopped in the car with the writer/director of the ten-minute play and his wife, who was my scene partner for NOTHING HAPPENED. We traveled to Mankato, MN for this short play festival.
The festival was in an old school that has been converted to a community center. We had a makeshift greenroom, which was just a section of a hallway that was curtained off. It wasn’t a huge deal; we were only there for five hours tops.
The strange thing about this event is that none of us had any idea of what to expect. It seemed like it was a large blend of professional/academic/community theatre. I was really nervous for some reason. My scene partner and I decided was that it seemed just like an audition. You’ve got all these actors in a rather small space, waiting to go on stage for ten minutes. Some people are very friendly to strangers. Others know each other. I didn’t know anyone.
Ah well. I must say that we did a pretty fine job. We performed the play twice. We were second on, so we were able to catch most of the other shows in the audience. Boy was that auditorium hot. And there was a lot of variety in the plays. One was about a woman with a puppy attempting to attract men. Another play was written and performed by a sophomore in college and it was all about crying and these different stages of relationships and age. Another play was about this washed out rock band who was getting past middle age and debating the merits of tour and going on for a fifth encore.
The writer of our play (and fellow company member) did say that whenever there was laughter from other plays, it was only pockets of people who were friends of the people on stage. In our case, no one knew us. So when we got laughs, it was from the entire house. That was cool to hear.
I guess I didn’t even describe what the play I was doing is about.
I played Eric, who is sitting in a nice restaurant on New Year’s Eve. He’s about to propose to his girlfriend, Stephanie, but he’s got a lot of doubts. He’s had a habit of calling upon his former fiancé, Jennifer, just to hash out his problems. So Jennifer arrives (it’s all in his mind, so he uses his cellphone to talk to her, so as not to appear crazy. But since this is theatre, an actual actress appears and sits at the table—it’s pretty clever, actually. The two exchange pleasantries and get into a bit of an argument. Things get heated, and Eric denies that he’s trying to compare Jennifer to Stephanie. He also (finally) admits that he desperately wants to be “different from the man you couldn’t marry.”
What’s so interesting is how, in ten minutes, you go through a beginning, middle, and end. This play has a LOT going on, and I think we pulled it off with some success (not that this was a competition or anything). That’s hard to do in ten minutes.
I wonder if I’ve got a ten minute play or two I could write out. Who knows!
I’m glad I had the chance to do this. It was a great side project and nice change of pace from doing the same show for the past three months (not that I’m getting tired of THE RAINMAKER).
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