What bothers me most when I go to the theatre (professional theatre -- say, The Steppenwolf, or some small off-Broadway company, or some decent repertory theatre) is the lack of attention to detail. Music begins and ends abruptly (no finesse in transitions, and no music ever used with dialogue, only before and after) and the actors' movements are kind of " murky." I know that "murky" doesn't really communicate what I mean, but I like using it in rehearsal: "This scene is murky" or "That transition is murky...Needs work." A murky scene is a scene put together in a hurry: the blocking is sketchy, actors kind of know what they're doing but not really, things are not crisp. I like crisp. I like starting with a general idea and then adding focus -- what I call precision work -- with every rehearsal, until the scene looks effortless. That's the idea: to work so long on a scene, on the transition to the next scene, on mood, rhythm and choreography that, at the end, the scene looks completely effortless. No missed beats, no false tones. The problem with such success is that, at the end of the play, people think something this smooth must come naturally and must have taken little time to rehearse.
Today was all about detail work. In about 4 days, we need to look effortless. I woke up determined to fix all the moments in the play that still bothered me: some of Chess' lines, Larry's last monologue, Gabe hesitation at the end and -- the biggest one of all -- the bride falling out of the Zeppelin. Here's the thing: you can't have a bride fall out of a Zeppelin effectively if you have no Zeppelin. So, the first order of things: make giant Zeppelin contraption. One of the walk-in closets in my house is full of costumes and props from all my previous productions. Whenever I need ideas I "take a walk" in that closet (that's the purpose of the "walk in," isn't it? I always find what I'm looking for). The "stroll" paid off. I found a wire underskirt Susan made for our production of Dorian Gray and I added to it, elongating it to look like a Zeppelin carcass. Then I glued on blue tissue paper and...voila! I had my flying machine. I called Susan and shared my victory. Then, together, we went to Party City and bought rose petals (for the weeding party to throw into the air -- I like how the silk petals descend slowly -- that's going to look great with the lights). We also bought party hats and a dandy white hat for Seth who plays the groom.
Once I got to Fletcher, I started looking around for something to suggest the gondola, the Zeppelin's cabin from which the bride falls shouting "Good bye, Steve. It wasn't meant to beeeeeeee...." A simple, high back chair solved the problem. So now the scene that pained me most in the play, is totally awesome. Mikey managed to run in slow motion (my dream on the stage -- to have people run in slow motion and/or fly. Mikey accomplished one of the two...), Seth rocked the hat and held the Zeppelin above his head convincingly, Ellie (the bride) fell out of the flying machine, according to my direction, "in an interesting manner."
Once the Zeppelin scene was choreographed, everything else seemed easy. I took care of two transitions that were taking too long, I corrected tiny details (that made a world of difference) in the Paris/Louvre scene, I listened to Dan read that last monologue like he was in my head, following every inflection and every pause...Dan looks great. What I mean is that he looks so tortured naturally -- he has that kind of face, that vulnerable, my soul-is-in-your-hands kind of look that probably drives women crazy because they think they can cure his sadness -- that Larry's character presents no problems for him. He sits in the radio station and reads passages from his favorite books (Larry's books), and weeps and talks politics and affection, and reads poems and shouts and makes his own rules. He's great. And because I know that Dan can be great all the time playing Larry, I often drive him crazy, so that he'll work harder during the scenes in which he's merely very good.
Conni is incredibly graceful. I can't emphasize enough the importance of working with actors who move well or, in Conni's case, with natural grace. Just watching her cross the stage is delightful, to say nothing of the dance interludes or the caress -- the affectionate scenes. Ellie is excellent in the scenes with Dan and kind of flat in the scenes with Seth. We still have to find a tone for her in those scenes. She doesn't yet know how to play convincingly a character who hesitates between so many possible adventures...
Mike is awesome all the time. This part was made for him. Seth is finally beginning to have some fun with his character. I doubt he'll ever let go completely, but, at this point, I'll take what I can get -- a more relaxed posture, a smile, genuine laughter.
So here I am, at 11pm, exhausted but accomplished. I really wish I didn't have to teach tomorrow, but there's nothing I can do about that or about the MA defense I have on Wednesday (an event I completely forgot about as I scheduled a recording of Dan's opening lines at the KRVS studio...I remembered it just in time not to make a fool of myself, but this just shows you where my mind is.)
I need sleep and I need a glass of cognac (not in that particular order) and I need more hours in the day and longer nights. I'll see what I can do about all these reasonable demands tomorrow...
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