So last night I endured two hours of screaming on the part of my director. The woman, seriously, has massive issues. She spent ten minutes screaming about how horrible we are instead of simply saying, "look. this is what i want you to do." Of course, we never have any idea what she wants us to do, as she changes every scene, every night.
1. Most plays rehearse a scene at a time, running it until it's perfect, then moving on to another scene. We have never done that. Every rehearsal, from day one, has been a complete run of the show.
2. We have giant 10-foot flats arranged onto triangular wagons. There are hanging mics in the center of the stage, and the flats get caught up in the mics every time they get moved (which is for every scene). This is with the lights on. How the director expects us to move these flats and not catch them on the mics IN BLACKOUT is beyond me.
3. Yes, actors move the flats. We have no stagehands.
4. Few if any scenes have been directed the same from one night to the next. This is really the key problem to the entire show. The director sees us doing something wrong, yells, "STOP" and begins the screaming. Most of us are a little afraid of her, as she's constantly threatening to throw people out, but seeing as how I've kind of become a fairly integral part of the show, I'm going to start standing up to her -- if only because I think it's about the worst thing in the world to scream at 14-year-olds who are volunteering to be in your show. She actually told us, last night, that "On a scale of one to ten, you people are a -1."
5. I really believed in theatre for a long time. While I abandoned my actual major, I still worked as an actor in some sort for much of my life. After five years away, I was so excited to get back to acting. This performance has been such a massive frustration because of these and other factors (the bulk of the cast are high school kids who NEVER SHUT UP. I complain about the director a lot, but the cast is certainly to blame quite a bit).
6. Despite my attempts, the boys playing Joseph's brothers continue to sing either an octave too high or an octave too low.
7. This isn't really a frustration, but last night I had to audition girls who want to dance this ballet portion of one of the songs. I was selected (unilaterally) to be the dance partner, because I was the only brother who had any dance experience whatsoever. So for about an hour, I was lifting these six girls over and over. I worked out yesterday so it was a bit tiring. The frustration is in that I learned these moves with which to audition the girls (all of whom are like 14 and, thankfully, about 120 pounds) but then finding that the actual dance will be entirely different. The girl who choreographed the audition is a) 18 b) hot and c) going to an art academy for dance. Alas, she leaves for school in a week so she won't be here. Now, I understand the theatre, and I really am over the idea of doing an erotic dance with a 14-year-old already. It's dance. It's what we do. But seriously.
Last night I left rehearsal and headed to the Hangout. Didn't even play any trivia, but caught up with some friends and sang some karaoke. Drank some beers, BSed, belted some George Strait. At one point Les grabbed me and pulled me up to dance to this slow Toby Keith song. I haven't really slow-danced in a while, with anyone, and it was a very nice moment. I'm still not really learning to shut up, and it's about the most hypocritical part of me. I spend semesters lecturing to students about becoming comfortable with silence and yet I'm always filling in the gap. Sometimes you just have to shut the hell up and enjoy the moment. I really am going to try and work on this.
1. Most plays rehearse a scene at a time, running it until it's perfect, then moving on to another scene. We have never done that. Every rehearsal, from day one, has been a complete run of the show.
2. We have giant 10-foot flats arranged onto triangular wagons. There are hanging mics in the center of the stage, and the flats get caught up in the mics every time they get moved (which is for every scene). This is with the lights on. How the director expects us to move these flats and not catch them on the mics IN BLACKOUT is beyond me.
3. Yes, actors move the flats. We have no stagehands.
4. Few if any scenes have been directed the same from one night to the next. This is really the key problem to the entire show. The director sees us doing something wrong, yells, "STOP" and begins the screaming. Most of us are a little afraid of her, as she's constantly threatening to throw people out, but seeing as how I've kind of become a fairly integral part of the show, I'm going to start standing up to her -- if only because I think it's about the worst thing in the world to scream at 14-year-olds who are volunteering to be in your show. She actually told us, last night, that "On a scale of one to ten, you people are a -1."
5. I really believed in theatre for a long time. While I abandoned my actual major, I still worked as an actor in some sort for much of my life. After five years away, I was so excited to get back to acting. This performance has been such a massive frustration because of these and other factors (the bulk of the cast are high school kids who NEVER SHUT UP. I complain about the director a lot, but the cast is certainly to blame quite a bit).
6. Despite my attempts, the boys playing Joseph's brothers continue to sing either an octave too high or an octave too low.
7. This isn't really a frustration, but last night I had to audition girls who want to dance this ballet portion of one of the songs. I was selected (unilaterally) to be the dance partner, because I was the only brother who had any dance experience whatsoever. So for about an hour, I was lifting these six girls over and over. I worked out yesterday so it was a bit tiring. The frustration is in that I learned these moves with which to audition the girls (all of whom are like 14 and, thankfully, about 120 pounds) but then finding that the actual dance will be entirely different. The girl who choreographed the audition is a) 18 b) hot and c) going to an art academy for dance. Alas, she leaves for school in a week so she won't be here. Now, I understand the theatre, and I really am over the idea of doing an erotic dance with a 14-year-old already. It's dance. It's what we do. But seriously.
Last night I left rehearsal and headed to the Hangout. Didn't even play any trivia, but caught up with some friends and sang some karaoke. Drank some beers, BSed, belted some George Strait. At one point Les grabbed me and pulled me up to dance to this slow Toby Keith song. I haven't really slow-danced in a while, with anyone, and it was a very nice moment. I'm still not really learning to shut up, and it's about the most hypocritical part of me. I spend semesters lecturing to students about becoming comfortable with silence and yet I'm always filling in the gap. Sometimes you just have to shut the hell up and enjoy the moment. I really am going to try and work on this.
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