Also: Hello and Goodbye Archive Photo Shoot - Part 1
Also: South Bend Tribune review of Hello and Goodbye. You're the best Jack.
]]>There's always such a strange feeling of letdown at the end of a show, and this show is no exception. I feel like our last two performances were some of our most emotionally intense, and it's strange to be pushing to a climax like that just to have everything disappear all of a sudden. The theatre is empty; the boxes collapsed; the packing peanuts, plastic bags, tin cans, doorknobs, etc have been permenantly packed away again; the curtains of clausterphobia removed; my costume pieces are back hanging up in my closet (except for the fishnets which, after seven performances on the same pair, are now at rest in the trash can); it's empty.
I'm not exactly sure what to say or how to talk about it, but I miss Hester and Johnnie; I miss the way they each tried to fight their stifling, oppressive world; I miss their quirks, their strength and their moments of vulnerability. But maybe it's not right to talk about them like they're dead and gone forever - maybe they're "resurrected" somehow in our everyday lives now that we have gotten to know and love and be them.
This has been such a beautiful and enlightening process to be a part of, and I am so grateful (even though Hester hates that word) to all of you for your gifts and talents that I got to share for a little while. Ben, Eric, Michelle, Emily, Danny, (and Jono - sorry it didn't work out) you guys are the best - and I can't wait to work with you all again!
]]>the audience is responding. they have questions. they have answers. some of them walk out at intermission, some come back for a second or third showing. i wish there were a better forum for public feedback and discussion and processing - that's something i'd like to work on over the next while. theatre is a communal art - it's created by a community, performed within a community, and needs to be processed as a community. for now, post any feedback, thoughts, questions, or anything else you need to say about H&G as comments on this post.
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Also: Hello and Goodbye Archive Photo Shoot - Part 1
Also: South Bend Tribune review of Hello and Goodbye. You're the best Jack.
]]>Also a huge thanks to Dan Eisenstadt, pulling through as a replacement percussionist at the very last minute. You're the best. Also deserving much more credit is Emily, stage manager of the year, and her crew of dedicated uber-stagehands. they can clean and sort anything you give them at any time of the night, and they'll do it better than you ever would. YOU ALL ROCK. hard core.
I recommend my entire cast and crew to anyone out there looking for people to put a show together. On second thought, maybe I'll just put another show together with them. Who's up for an action comedy? Bruce Lee, a water slide, trapeezi, big guns, bigger guns, the works? boo-yeah.
KUNG FU IS REALITY
Also, thanks to Eric Kanagy for not only making NWA theatre possible, but also laughing at all the great parts of H&G. Please remember, as bleak as it may look, H&G is a Chekovian comedy at heart. This is funny stuff. Enjoy.
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Also:
See the new splash page on New World Arts. One of many things happening before 8pm.
]]>We are at a place where I can appreciate the play instead of being overwhelmed, and it's really neat. Back (a few long days ago), I couldn't do anything but fish for lines or try to remember my blocking. I was so concerned with the next moment that I lost the broader story and how the relationships progress through the play. When viewed as a whole, the play is a fantastic ebb and flow of power from Hester to Johnnie. One moment, I'm interrogating Hester about what she really wants and the next I'm hunched in the corner, to frightened or overwhelmed to speak. It's bright, it's sharp, and it's dangerous.
Also in the past few days, I've rediscovered some of the playfulness of the show. Since enough of the lines and blocking are in place (Emily might contest this), I can simultaneously respect what we've established and trust my instincts to find something new and interesting. I really love the newness that is possible in doing the "same" things night after night, like throwing boxes or eating Smarties. It opens everything up for consideration and reinvention. To steal one of Johnnie's lines, "Seen like that, life's amazing."
Anyway, come to the show. It's spectacular. Only costs as much as bowling and it's at least a thousand times as sweet.
]]>It's an exciting place to be at. I love the energy and the creativity that continues to emerge - the show is new and different each time we run it, and I really appreciate the fact that we are always making discoveries and playing with the way this world works. And I can't wait for other people to come and join in the creation of this reality. I'm just amazed at how fresh this show can be, even after living and flowing through our minds and bodies for a couple of months. I know it will be a challenge to keep it that way, but that's why I can't wait to get an audience in there - throw ourselves a few new punches and see what happens...
P.S. ...I just read over what I have written so far and I'm not entirely sure it makes much sense, so I'm going to take that as an indicator that it's bed time. (And I must admit that I have a little guilt surrounding the issue of bed time since everyone else is currently painting the stage at New World (you all are my collective hero!), so I hope the fact that I posted makes up for it a bit...)
The problem is that I miss it, already. I like this group, and the work I did when I was around them. I like it even more when I feel like I contribute, and Michelle's last post certainly helped me feel like that.
I just spent some time reading through old posts on this blog. There are some good ones. The trouble wil multiple authors is that posts can get past up which shouldn't. If you haven't looked at the archives, I would recommend it.
So, I'm not terribly certain why I wrote this. I'm pretty tired, and pretty excited for next friday night to come.
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now we're all back. after a week of late nights, workshops, bad theatre, mediocre theatre, good theatre, and some hints of great, after an early morning and a four hour drive home, some meetings, some cookie-buying (thanks, emily), and not much time to breathe, we went directly into a rehearsal where we were tired and trying to remember this world we were in the process of creating when we got interrupted about a week ago. trying to remember lines and blocking and choreography of the objects, trying to remember the path we were on so it doesn't look thrown together, trying to remember all the errands to complete and objects to find...
and then, suddenly, cassie is on the floor making snow angels in the packing peanuts and eric and i are cheering her on and ben is so completely focused and emily doesn't have to give blocking notes, because we found a moment. a moment in the chaos that can carry us on to the next moment.
i don't doubt that the frustrating moments will continue, and the moments of wondering how this will all come together. but i also don't doubt that we will find the moments that will bridge and build and accelerate into production. it's hard work, it's looking good, and i'm getting excited.
]]>here's to undefinable theatre. cheers.
]]>It was a rather amusing exercise. I began taking small, quick, discrete bites of scrambled egg, chewing quickly, and looking around every few minutes to make sure I hadn't missed anything that might be happening. After a while, I almost started getting panicked, afraid that someone somewhere was watching me, glaring at me, thinking bad things about me. I was so skeptical of everyone who walked into that hotel lobby. I was skeptical of the waiter who kept refilling my water glass, making it difficult to just sit there and crunch on the ice like I wanted to.
]]> There was so much unrest, tension, turmoil in my body. It would be exhausting to live like that 24 hours a day! When Hester talks (in the script) about all women falling into their graves frightened, I think she is speaking about herself also (though perhaps not consciously). There seems to be so much fear in Hester's world that she tries to push down inside of herself and hide with her strong, composed exterior.I can relate to this. I hate coming across to other people as afraid or weak, so I try to hide my fears and present only a confident exterior to everyone around me. It is exhausting, I guess, but it's also amazing how easily one can become used to living like this. I think for Hester, this all finally explodes in the second act of the play. She can no longer keep her calm, and all those repressed fears come shooting out in her anger. I'm pretty sure this isn't a healthy way of dealing with fear, but I think human beings follow this pattern more than we realize, or more than we like to admit.
Even though I sometimes hate to acknowledge our similarities (especially when it reveals the parts of my own character that I am not terribly proud of), I love Hester, and I love feeling connected to her like this. And of nothing else, knowing Hester in this way is teaching me a lot about myself and about the best way to live in this world.
]]>Yesterday morning, Cassie and I performed a scene from "Hello and Goodbye" as part of the Irene Ryan acting competition. We used some of the same warm-ups we use in rehearsal: yoga, Bogart-inspired and Meisner-inspired exercises. While other contestants were sitting patiently in the holding room--with super-serious passion and soul of all black wearing theatre artistes--we were doing lanes in the hallway. Running, skipping, bouncing, talking high, talking low, catapulting off of walls, and waving our arms like lunatics. It was great. Then while we were on deck and told to be very, very quite, we did some of our gestures series. The others in the lobby seemed a bit confused, but for those in the know, it was clear that those strange motions were really Cassie and I applying lipstick out of a five foot long tube in tandem.
We delivered our best rendition of the scene for the judges--great connection, strong feeling, energy like you wouldn't believe. They seemed a little skeptical. In the talk back session both judges mentioned that they didn't know immediately know Hester and Johnnie's relationship to each other or what our specific motivations for the scene. Eh, probably true. We mentioned that we were likely looking at the scene in terms of the whole play. The judges agreed and pointed out that the Irene Ryan rules suggest not doing scenes from plays that you've performed (let alone in the middle of rehearsing) for that very reason. Ah well. We did have an exciting conversation with one judge about Hester and Johnnie's motivations throughout the entire play. She hadn't read "Hello and Goodbye" but guessed some of the nuances of our relationship remarkably accurately. Maybe we conveyed more than the judges thought they thought. She helped me clarify my vision of Johnnie for the play: an insecure, lonely character who tries to control his sister--who he's always feared--by resurrecting something she's has always feared, their father. There's this wonderfully terrible sibling relationship that hinges on how the two characters relate to the father. For Johnnie, the father is not only a comfort, a crutch, or a shield, he is also a weapon. I'll keep mulling this over. Maybe by the end of the run I'll have an idea of what Johnnie is all about.
Or how he is all about it. Dell'Arte, chaps?
p.s. there are some fantastic actors in the world. wow, they're fun to watch.]]>
The obituary of Josef Svoboda (considered the father of scenography) says that "He saw his function as crucially contributing to the unfolding drama, creating 'a setting that is dynamic, capable of suggesting changing relationships, feelings, moods, perhaps only by lighting, during the course of the action'." (UK Times)
An article in the March 2003 issue of American Theatre says:
"Translated from the Greek to mean 'the writing of the stage space,' scenography embraces a holistic approach which ... involves working hand-in-hand with the director throughout the entire production process--fusing textual interpretation, historic research, dynamic staging and artistic vision into a seamless visual experience." (p.44)
Pamela Howard writes in her book What is Scenography? that a scenographer is someone who assists in the "seamless synthesis of space, text, research, art, actors, directors and spectators that contributes to an original creation" (p. 130).
This site describes scenography as "the art of creating performance environments; it can be composed of sound, light, clothing, performance, structure and space."
For another (VERY brief) discussion of the term, see this page of the same site.
For a slightly longer description, see this site.
Finally, a quote from Svoboda (found on the same site as a couple of the above links) that I can relate to no matter what role I am playing in any given production:
"When I sit alone in a theatre and gaze into the dark space of its empty stage, I'm frequently seized by fear that this time I won't manage to penetrate it, and I always hope that this fear will never desert me. Without an unending search for the key to the secret of creativity, there is no creation. It's necessary always to begin again. And that is beautiful."
Box Workday Photos
I guess we love boxes or something, since we made 225 of them in 7 (9) hours.
Also see... Photos from another program photo shoot.
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