Don't tell anyone but I think we might be getting there.
The ticket fiasco is almost behind us, for which we must be eternally endebted to Russell (and Neil, Mary and Brian but principally, maximumly inconvenienced ticket sales virgin Russell). This is a giant diplodocus-sized burden off my spindley shoulders but after one final question to ever-patient Ross, I think I'm ready to take a deep breath and release all remaining tickets to the Fringe office.
Therefore, don't get too excited by this:
But it actually isn't so very far from the truth.
My to do list is gradually diminishing. I still have a longer list of things to do than can reasonably be accomplished before Sunday night with part of a wedding inbetween. But who am I to moan on? I don't have to store bundles of ornate and antiquated lines in my head as I go.
So I wasn't quite getting the waves of nostalgia thing at last night's rehearsal but the to do list (TDL) was longer then. But despite that (in spite of your heart I think - alas poor heart), I ended up curiously alone with my actors on Tuesday night's boat. The past few rehearsals seem to have been filled with entourage. Props people and set people and costume people and organising people and prompt people and hangers on along for the ride.
But this night saw my prompt lurking at a discrete distance, the actors lurking in what passes for wings and so I got long stretches of time where it was just me and them. I wish it could be like that for all the audience members. 'Cause it's the most magical thing.
And any minute now, it ceases to be mine. Tomorrow night, the production team will crowd in. Then we have the move-in which will be noisy and busy and no doubt chaotic but purposeful. And then what'll pass for a tech. And then it's our so-called preview night. And then it's entirely theirs - the actors I mean - and the audience's. This, I shall miss.
The ticket fiasco is almost behind us, for which we must be eternally endebted to Russell (and Neil, Mary and Brian but principally, maximumly inconvenienced ticket sales virgin Russell). This is a giant diplodocus-sized burden off my spindley shoulders but after one final question to ever-patient Ross, I think I'm ready to take a deep breath and release all remaining tickets to the Fringe office.
Therefore, don't get too excited by this:
But it actually isn't so very far from the truth.
My to do list is gradually diminishing. I still have a longer list of things to do than can reasonably be accomplished before Sunday night with part of a wedding inbetween. But who am I to moan on? I don't have to store bundles of ornate and antiquated lines in my head as I go.
So I wasn't quite getting the waves of nostalgia thing at last night's rehearsal but the to do list (TDL) was longer then. But despite that (in spite of your heart I think - alas poor heart), I ended up curiously alone with my actors on Tuesday night's boat. The past few rehearsals seem to have been filled with entourage. Props people and set people and costume people and organising people and prompt people and hangers on along for the ride.
But this night saw my prompt lurking at a discrete distance, the actors lurking in what passes for wings and so I got long stretches of time where it was just me and them. I wish it could be like that for all the audience members. 'Cause it's the most magical thing.
And any minute now, it ceases to be mine. Tomorrow night, the production team will crowd in. Then we have the move-in which will be noisy and busy and no doubt chaotic but purposeful. And then what'll pass for a tech. And then it's our so-called preview night. And then it's entirely theirs - the actors I mean - and the audience's. This, I shall miss.
posted by Claire at 11:16 pm
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