Rehearsal tonight and I got off with a little light two hours. And it reminded me again how glorious it is to be in rather than directing a thing. So for example:
- I arrived three minutes late but did not find a pack of (rightly) disgruntled on the doorstep
- I could sit not remotely concentrating when I was not on 'stage'. Well yes, you try and look over your lines but you can't ever really concentrate when other people are strutting about bleating
- I don't have to wheedle with people whose vision of their character veers wildly from my own
- And I don't have to think up clever, interesting and kind ways of telling them this
- It doesn't fundamentally matter that much to me that we don't have a costume person yet. With approx 4 weeks to go. (Although I can only be cavalier as it's a very conscientious cast)
- It isn't a terribly personal slight that with these aforementioned 4 weeks to go, we've only sold ahem tickets
- I have only to worry about not moving my arms about like an ape (I'm sorry Wendy, David) and remembering my lines
- I can enjoy the look of panic in the eyes of fellow actors when we all try to work out who should speak next - rather than panicing about how far this show is from ever being fit for performance on a real stage - oh doesn't it seem gloriously funny while the show's still just about too remote to worry about overly (I wonder when true panic will set in..?)?
- And I can leave before the end because I'm dead dead dead in the final scene. Hurrah!
I'm admiring Wendy's pragmatic delivery of character development points. She thinks hard about what actors think. I think much harder about where they might stand to look pretty and as long as they sound half like they mean what they're saying, I don't analyse it too much. I must remember to learn from this.
I'm loving my 'sister' who is a newbie to the group but has such a terrifying withering look that I shan't have to try very hard to act when she's disappointed in me. Which is most of the time.
And it's obviously an undiluted pleasure to be pranking about with my old favourites.
Long may this honeymoon - untroubled by the hot stark lights of the actual looming venue - last.
- I arrived three minutes late but did not find a pack of (rightly) disgruntled on the doorstep
- I could sit not remotely concentrating when I was not on 'stage'. Well yes, you try and look over your lines but you can't ever really concentrate when other people are strutting about bleating
- I don't have to wheedle with people whose vision of their character veers wildly from my own
- And I don't have to think up clever, interesting and kind ways of telling them this
- It doesn't fundamentally matter that much to me that we don't have a costume person yet. With approx 4 weeks to go. (Although I can only be cavalier as it's a very conscientious cast)
- It isn't a terribly personal slight that with these aforementioned 4 weeks to go, we've only sold ahem tickets
- I have only to worry about not moving my arms about like an ape (I'm sorry Wendy, David) and remembering my lines
- I can enjoy the look of panic in the eyes of fellow actors when we all try to work out who should speak next - rather than panicing about how far this show is from ever being fit for performance on a real stage - oh doesn't it seem gloriously funny while the show's still just about too remote to worry about overly (I wonder when true panic will set in..?)?
- And I can leave before the end because I'm dead dead dead in the final scene. Hurrah!
I'm admiring Wendy's pragmatic delivery of character development points. She thinks hard about what actors think. I think much harder about where they might stand to look pretty and as long as they sound half like they mean what they're saying, I don't analyse it too much. I must remember to learn from this.
I'm loving my 'sister' who is a newbie to the group but has such a terrifying withering look that I shan't have to try very hard to act when she's disappointed in me. Which is most of the time.
And it's obviously an undiluted pleasure to be pranking about with my old favourites.
Long may this honeymoon - untroubled by the hot stark lights of the actual looming venue - last.
posted by Claire at 10:17 pm
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*And I can leave before the end because I'm dead dead dead in the final scene. Hurrah!*
SPOILER ALERT!!!!
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