Thursday, November 29, 2012

So. Richard Three.

I trotted along to see it on Friday night. And of course, what weirdness. Because if ever I direct a show, it's very rare that I just sit in the audience and watch. Well, I don't, in fact. For that makes me jittery. I invent some pretext - "I'll do the sound" - how handy - to get me out of sitting on my hands idle itching with anticipation while they do their thing.

But two weeks of directing doesn't entitle you to gainful employment during The Show. Pity.

So I just had to - horror - sit and watch.

And how I loved it.

They did a lovely job. The weirdness of watching a show that was David and Emma's with tiny shreds of my dabbling hand every now and again. 

As David wisely observed, I didn't sleep once.

Saturday, I was elsewhere, singing like a midway through strangling cat. Endeavouring to sing Mr Mozart's Requiem. A piece of music I love love love and would never deign to think that I can sing as I can't really sing. But the miracle of this performance was that all you had to do to take part was - pay. Christopher Bell, marvellous man, spent x3 hours with us on Saturday afternoon and on Saturday evening, the cacophony was unleashed. And it was a pretty hideous cacophony.

But do you know, despite the fact that I should have been happy as a happy thing, making up a little shrieking scrap of this epic albeit partly faked by somebody else work, I had a little moment, mid Quam Olim Abrahae's, when I felt a little internal pang that I was missing Their Last Night. And missing the Get Out. And the guilt! And back to Abrahae.

Despite my miniscule involvement, they got me the loveliest of cards. Tiny little pictures of all of them. Lovely little messages. Poppets.

I lack the directorial right to list a self-indulgent scroll of favourite moments from the rehearsal process. After all, half of my fortnight belonged to Emma who was entirely responsible for keeping things on track. But if you'll just permit me a short trot through my absolute favourite moments?
  •  The oldest of the young princes (man, I don't even know their character names!) and his listening face as he listened to Hastings and Buckingham plan
  • The oldest queen - or mother of the queen - or whoever she was - being regal and extraordinary, consistently, beautifully, without fail
  • The Cockney accent (yup, secretly loved it) 
  • The youngest prince's Grandam / whatever it was plants and whatever it was weeds series of speeches. Oh princes' mum, you poured work into them and didn't they do beautifully?
  • Richard's suit
  • The story-telling exercise that culminated in Richard III choking to death on a doughnut
  • The misery management (great comment in my card - thank you!)
  • The hug betwixt the two young princes that was awkwardly - and then beautifully delivered
  • The kiss choreography
  • The eleven minute scene the first time it was eleven minutes (thanks, boys)
  • And more or less every time one or other of the young princes opened their mouths. For grown people, I know you did your best but the boys the boys the boys.
Next, I shall be offering up Bugsy Malone.


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