Visiting the folks for a few days so I figured I should bring the blog up-to-date, before I go. We had a good rehearsal last night. We're all the way up to the Catfish scene, which is good because the multiple personality aspect of this is the most daunting. But it is going well. We're finding the beats and figuring things out . . . it never ceases to amaze me, when looking at this piece through actor's eyes, what is there that I didn't even realize was there. Or what can be brought out with characterization that is suggested in the script. I know this sounds elementary, and maybe it's because I haven't worked with this kind of focus for so long, but it's like chipping mud off a rock and finding a diamond inside! Very rewarding to say the least.
Wallace continues to work his magic. He makes suggestions, and doesn't try to sell them too hard . . . he asked me after if I felt 'bullied'. Please! Yes he's insightful and has sometimes provocative ideas, but it's always done with respect and a real desire to make the piece the most it can be. I have been bullied by directors before, and it ain't fun. Specifically, when we did the 'reading' of 'The Grass Eats the Horse', based on the life and writings of a poet whose name escapes me right now, and written by Eric Blau, of Jacque Brel is Alive and Well fame; I got involved because Bette is a friend of Eric's wife (Elly Stone, if I may be permitted to name drop), and they wanted her in the piece, so they asked me as well. Then the director, whose name I forget, but it's just as well . . . anyway a Julliard grad who wanted his buddies in the piece . . . he liked Bette, but he tried everything he could to make me quit . . . of course, that just brought out the West Virginia in me and I held fast, no matter what he dished out. It was a good time (except for the asswipe director); Roger Serbagi was in it, a real sweetheart and a wonderful actor. Nice audiences. We did it at St. Marks Church in the Bowery, which also made it special. I thought I did a credible job and Bette and I got some scenes together, and that was nice. But the director . . . so I know from bullying directors, and Wallace ain't even close. I don't think abuse is even in his vocabulary . . . every single one of our rehearsals seems like it's over before it begins . . . I'm having a blast!!!
Friday, March 26, 2010
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Reading tonight
Ok so before I'm off to bed, I thought it would be a good idea to get some of my reactions down . . . I had a reading of Old Hickory tonight .. . and it was very well received. A lot of very positive reactions all round, yes from Bette and Laurette, and from Wallace all uniformly wonderful, and other members of the Woodstock Fringe group ... but also from total strangers who don't know me from Adam, and sought me out for comment afterward. all in all a very good springboard for the next few week's work and polishing this stone into a gem. I am glad I used the script, though I didn't refer to it much . . . and one time I did I realized I had a previous version that hadn't been updated . . . oops . . . that's when you have to think on your feet, but I wasn't really using the script much anyway . . . it was more of a security blanket than anything else. So that's it. Just wanted to record some reactions and to add my own, while still fresh in my mind. I hadn't been on a journey like that in a while . . . and it felt good!
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Thursday's rehearsal . . .
We had another good one on Thurs. night. Wallace liked my idea of moving the play indoors to the kitchen and we worked on moment to moment stuff, and got all the way to the first confrontation between Jimmy and his dear wife. As always, Wallace had some good notes and encouraged me to go as far as I want to, you don't have to worry about going too far at this stage of the game . . . it's one of those things you know, instinctively, but it's good to hear none the less.
He also suggested that, when I do the reading on Tuesday night, that I do it with script. As he put it: we don't have to show them our private work just yet. Despite what I said previously about wanting to do it sans book, I think this idea makes a lot of sense. There is really nothing to gain by doing it from memory, and a significant amount to lose if I get in there and scramble things up . . . what you don't need in your first foray into solo shows, is to go in feeling defensive cause you blew the reading. I think it's best not to peak too soon.
So that's the plan. Can't wait. Just ran lines with Bette and it went pretty well, though distractions from the dog and the fire alarm across the way didn't help any. I know all the big stuff, there's just some little things that I botch from time to time and I might as well have being word perfect as my goal. Who said this would be easy anyway? If they did, they lied.
He also suggested that, when I do the reading on Tuesday night, that I do it with script. As he put it: we don't have to show them our private work just yet. Despite what I said previously about wanting to do it sans book, I think this idea makes a lot of sense. There is really nothing to gain by doing it from memory, and a significant amount to lose if I get in there and scramble things up . . . what you don't need in your first foray into solo shows, is to go in feeling defensive cause you blew the reading. I think it's best not to peak too soon.
So that's the plan. Can't wait. Just ran lines with Bette and it went pretty well, though distractions from the dog and the fire alarm across the way didn't help any. I know all the big stuff, there's just some little things that I botch from time to time and I might as well have being word perfect as my goal. Who said this would be easy anyway? If they did, they lied.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
A gorgeous day!
So it's 70 degrees and I'm sitting on the front porch being blown away by Dickens, and just enjoying things. I ran Old Hickory this morning and had some revelations for myself, that I'll have to share with Wallace tonight. I rehearsed in the kitchen to be as far away from phones as possible and I noticed how much stuff I had to move out of the way on the kitchen table .. . and it hit me . . . we had been thinking that this was taking place on the porch, which I think was my idea, and then we ran with it . . . which sort of leaves a dearth of physical life . . . when I started moving stuff around I thought, aha! Jimmy having a cluttered table would speak volumes about him, and even more so the stuff that is cluttering it! I'll have to run this one by W at rehearsal and see what he thinks . . . but it was an eyeopener for me.
I also got an email the other day that I got a chuckle and a warning out of . . . I hueard from Norman Marshall (portrayer of John Brown and all round radical . . .he's also the one that took Where the Rain Never Falls under his wing and got it on WBAI, for which I am eternally grateful); Norman asked if I was dealing with Jackson's racism and the fact that he bragged about exterminating American Indians or was he gonna have to fight me about that? It took me aback for a moment until I remembered that Andrew Jackson's nickname was Old Hickory . . . I told him not to fear, my OH is a knife! The warning is that I hope people don't assume the same thing; though if you see the promo stuff it should be very clear that this ain't a play about any dead presidents!
The run this morning went well, but I still make annoying mistakes with the text from time to time . . . nothing that anybody in the audience would notice, and sometimes I don't either. I left out something this morning though, and while I didn't notice it right off, later in the play I knew I had left something out and that got me starting on that train of thought which sort of got me unsteady with the lines for a moment. . . it's funny how many rails your brain can work on at the same time . . . because while that pesky thought of the missing line didn't go away, the play proceeded just fine.
I absolutely want to do the reading Tuesday without book. It's a good test, and that's one of the reasons for doing the reading in the first place.
Should be fun in any event. I put off a trip to WV this weekend in part because I want to have the time to really work this thing . . . I think it'll be time well spent.
I also got an email the other day that I got a chuckle and a warning out of . . . I hueard from Norman Marshall (portrayer of John Brown and all round radical . . .he's also the one that took Where the Rain Never Falls under his wing and got it on WBAI, for which I am eternally grateful); Norman asked if I was dealing with Jackson's racism and the fact that he bragged about exterminating American Indians or was he gonna have to fight me about that? It took me aback for a moment until I remembered that Andrew Jackson's nickname was Old Hickory . . . I told him not to fear, my OH is a knife! The warning is that I hope people don't assume the same thing; though if you see the promo stuff it should be very clear that this ain't a play about any dead presidents!
The run this morning went well, but I still make annoying mistakes with the text from time to time . . . nothing that anybody in the audience would notice, and sometimes I don't either. I left out something this morning though, and while I didn't notice it right off, later in the play I knew I had left something out and that got me starting on that train of thought which sort of got me unsteady with the lines for a moment. . . it's funny how many rails your brain can work on at the same time . . . because while that pesky thought of the missing line didn't go away, the play proceeded just fine.
I absolutely want to do the reading Tuesday without book. It's a good test, and that's one of the reasons for doing the reading in the first place.
Should be fun in any event. I put off a trip to WV this weekend in part because I want to have the time to really work this thing . . . I think it'll be time well spent.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Seeing what happens
So I sat down to write, not really with anything new to talk about or add; I'm running the lines a couple of times a day and that's going well; Red Hand of O'Neill is submitted to French, so it's in someone else's hands; and I'm still looking for a job. Other than that what to write about? Well I did do some more work on my new hillbilly absurdist piece, but I'm not sure that's blogworthy in and of itself.
So I thought, why not just sit down to write and see what happens. Sometimes wonderful things might happen . . . or it might not be anything but the most banal crap imaginable . . . you rolls the dice and takes your chances.
Writing plays is like that sometimes. You putter around, seeking excuses not to write, then you might sit down to read something, hoping for someone to come along and distract you even more . . . instead of sitting down and writing . . . even writing in this blog might be one of those dodges: why spend time writing in a blog when you could be spending the time writing plays? My answer to that one is: I am writing silly. It doesn't really matter what writing you're doing, at least I don't think, as long as you're using those muscles. Something may come out of this that might suggest a play or a line in a play or it might just be another way of keeping things in there mixed up, kind of like stirring up paint so it won't dry up. Anyway, when I started on the blog, I thought of it as a legitimate cousin to the other stuff I do. It's sort of complimentary. There certainly isn't any other conceivable reason for it . . . it's for me . . . so I can later come back and see what (if anything) I was thinking on any given day . . . and to track the course of Old Hickory of course.
Part of the impetus was that I have often thought I should have kept a diary for all my plays, so I could know when I started something and when I 'finished' it (quote marks around finished because as far as I'm concerned, a play isn't 'finished' until I am no longer around to make adjustments). To see what transpired in the course of readings and what not. But I didn't do any of that and thought the trail leading to the one man show might lend itself well.
It would have been great to have kept notes on Damage Control especially. It certainly has the most contentious history, with legit blowups and people trying to take control creatively and otherwise. If I hadn't put my foot down in no uncertain terms, yes, a film would have been made of the play, but it would not have been my play the way things were going. As my friend Angelo said at the time: better it should be sitting on a shelf than to be produced and to be something you aren't proud of! I could write a book about the issues and people involved, and I know plays and films are different vis a vis creative control, but part of the deal with that one was that I was one third of creative control, and my one third did the right thing and pulled the plug . . . it cost me a friend too, but I'd do it again if the same thing happened.
You do have to stand your ground sometimes ... and it might cost you a production, but there's integrity involved and that means whatever it means to each individual; the sooner you learn that the better. You just have to decide for yourself just how far you're willing to go.
Another play that would have been fun to blog about would have been Thirty Odd Years, arguably my best work; certainly my most produced. We have had some adventures with that one, road trips and what have you, and I was able to perform it for the French and at Theater Actors Workshop in CT. It would have been ripe for blogging because a lot of people were involved and there are some funny stories.
I guess when you get down to it nearly every play has a story to tell; my Emma Goldman trilogy (of which the third isn't even begun) is another one ... especially when you consider the genesis of it . . . ok, I won't tease: one of the first time my wife and I met Mara Mills at the late great Herbert Mark Newman Theater in Pleasantville, (where Mara was AD) Mara nodded toward Bette (who she knew was an actress) and said she should play Emma Goldman some day. I didn't do anything immediately, but I did eventually get her two volume autobiography and read it . . . hers is an amazing story. Then years later when I was a member of the Revolutionary Writers Workshop at the Genesius Guild, one of our assignments was to write a scene from history . . . I figured that was the time to attack the Emma Goldman idea and that's where the whole thing started. I remember when I took a scene in, or it was a monologue actually I think, and the leader of the group, Stephen Seeley, found a small bit of the monologue and said 'this much here? This is a play' . . . and he was right, Emma's story is so vast, you couldn't possibly tell it all in one play . . . as it is the first play covers from her meeting Alexander Berkman through Berkman's attempt on Henry Clay Frick's life . . . a really interesting story, but then there are many of those in her life.
Enough you're saying! Ok, I have written a lot of plays and they all do have stories, but that is enough for now.
And besides that . . . I think I may be burning oatmeal in the next room so I had better go tend to it!
So I thought, why not just sit down to write and see what happens. Sometimes wonderful things might happen . . . or it might not be anything but the most banal crap imaginable . . . you rolls the dice and takes your chances.
Writing plays is like that sometimes. You putter around, seeking excuses not to write, then you might sit down to read something, hoping for someone to come along and distract you even more . . . instead of sitting down and writing . . . even writing in this blog might be one of those dodges: why spend time writing in a blog when you could be spending the time writing plays? My answer to that one is: I am writing silly. It doesn't really matter what writing you're doing, at least I don't think, as long as you're using those muscles. Something may come out of this that might suggest a play or a line in a play or it might just be another way of keeping things in there mixed up, kind of like stirring up paint so it won't dry up. Anyway, when I started on the blog, I thought of it as a legitimate cousin to the other stuff I do. It's sort of complimentary. There certainly isn't any other conceivable reason for it . . . it's for me . . . so I can later come back and see what (if anything) I was thinking on any given day . . . and to track the course of Old Hickory of course.
Part of the impetus was that I have often thought I should have kept a diary for all my plays, so I could know when I started something and when I 'finished' it (quote marks around finished because as far as I'm concerned, a play isn't 'finished' until I am no longer around to make adjustments). To see what transpired in the course of readings and what not. But I didn't do any of that and thought the trail leading to the one man show might lend itself well.
It would have been great to have kept notes on Damage Control especially. It certainly has the most contentious history, with legit blowups and people trying to take control creatively and otherwise. If I hadn't put my foot down in no uncertain terms, yes, a film would have been made of the play, but it would not have been my play the way things were going. As my friend Angelo said at the time: better it should be sitting on a shelf than to be produced and to be something you aren't proud of! I could write a book about the issues and people involved, and I know plays and films are different vis a vis creative control, but part of the deal with that one was that I was one third of creative control, and my one third did the right thing and pulled the plug . . . it cost me a friend too, but I'd do it again if the same thing happened.
You do have to stand your ground sometimes ... and it might cost you a production, but there's integrity involved and that means whatever it means to each individual; the sooner you learn that the better. You just have to decide for yourself just how far you're willing to go.
Another play that would have been fun to blog about would have been Thirty Odd Years, arguably my best work; certainly my most produced. We have had some adventures with that one, road trips and what have you, and I was able to perform it for the French and at Theater Actors Workshop in CT. It would have been ripe for blogging because a lot of people were involved and there are some funny stories.
I guess when you get down to it nearly every play has a story to tell; my Emma Goldman trilogy (of which the third isn't even begun) is another one ... especially when you consider the genesis of it . . . ok, I won't tease: one of the first time my wife and I met Mara Mills at the late great Herbert Mark Newman Theater in Pleasantville, (where Mara was AD) Mara nodded toward Bette (who she knew was an actress) and said she should play Emma Goldman some day. I didn't do anything immediately, but I did eventually get her two volume autobiography and read it . . . hers is an amazing story. Then years later when I was a member of the Revolutionary Writers Workshop at the Genesius Guild, one of our assignments was to write a scene from history . . . I figured that was the time to attack the Emma Goldman idea and that's where the whole thing started. I remember when I took a scene in, or it was a monologue actually I think, and the leader of the group, Stephen Seeley, found a small bit of the monologue and said 'this much here? This is a play' . . . and he was right, Emma's story is so vast, you couldn't possibly tell it all in one play . . . as it is the first play covers from her meeting Alexander Berkman through Berkman's attempt on Henry Clay Frick's life . . . a really interesting story, but then there are many of those in her life.
Enough you're saying! Ok, I have written a lot of plays and they all do have stories, but that is enough for now.
And besides that . . . I think I may be burning oatmeal in the next room so I had better go tend to it!
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Red letter day!!
I worked to the end of the play today! So now I am fairly well off book and instead of spending hours on end doing the down and dirty grunt work of learning lines, I can run them and do other detail stuff. We had a very productive rehearsal last night . . . really finding moments and making them shine . . . by the time this sucker rolls around, it should be smoking . . . I hope.
Got the link to buy tickets today, so I did my marketing thing getting the word out. Needless to say, it's up to the folks that I sent the info to now to do their thing as far as procuring tix. It is one performance only and it is a 99 seat house, and we are sharing it with another piece, so if people wait too long they could be seriously disappointed. Well . . . it won't be the end of the world for them, but I do think this is gonna be a good time. In a somewhat twisted kind of way.
I forgot to mention yesterday that I got a rejection letter in the mail the other day . . . how old school . . . actually sending letters! Often times it's an email now . . . at any rate, this was at Keane College in New Jersey. I enter it every year, so I have quite the collection of rejections from them. John Wooten, the AD there, was the producer of Bountiful when I did that at Montclair State. That connection has done me a world of good (a hint of sarcasm perhaps?)
There are still a few competitions I haven't heard from yet, so it ain't over til it's over . . . I sent At Death's Door (the one rejected above) to the Southern Appalachian Regional Theater competition and Playwrights First; my Emma Goldman piece, Words of Fire to the Castillo in the city for a history competition; and I entered Bagel Friday for a NY Foundation for the Arts grant. Should know from all of them this spring. In the meantime, we keep right on keeping on!
Got the link to buy tickets today, so I did my marketing thing getting the word out. Needless to say, it's up to the folks that I sent the info to now to do their thing as far as procuring tix. It is one performance only and it is a 99 seat house, and we are sharing it with another piece, so if people wait too long they could be seriously disappointed. Well . . . it won't be the end of the world for them, but I do think this is gonna be a good time. In a somewhat twisted kind of way.
I forgot to mention yesterday that I got a rejection letter in the mail the other day . . . how old school . . . actually sending letters! Often times it's an email now . . . at any rate, this was at Keane College in New Jersey. I enter it every year, so I have quite the collection of rejections from them. John Wooten, the AD there, was the producer of Bountiful when I did that at Montclair State. That connection has done me a world of good (a hint of sarcasm perhaps?)
There are still a few competitions I haven't heard from yet, so it ain't over til it's over . . . I sent At Death's Door (the one rejected above) to the Southern Appalachian Regional Theater competition and Playwrights First; my Emma Goldman piece, Words of Fire to the Castillo in the city for a history competition; and I entered Bagel Friday for a NY Foundation for the Arts grant. Should know from all of them this spring. In the meantime, we keep right on keeping on!
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Catching up
More of the same since the last posting: learning lines and the like. Now up to the top of page 21, the piece currently ends in the middle of 22 so I have a page and a half left!!! Won't that be a holiday, when I get that last bit down . . . hopefully tomorrow. Then I can focus on other aspects of this thing, such as who these people are and history and the like. I have done some exploration of that and made some choices; no, I'm not telling, but these kinds of things will make the performance richer. The reading is a week from Tuesday, so I should be able to do that baby off book.
Also, a bit of news on my other solo piece about O'Neill's father (it does have a title of course: The Red Hand of O'Neill). Cynthia, the AD of the Pelham group, Supporting Characters, asked if anyone had stuff to submit to the Samuel French festival in NYC. I suggested that if her hubby, Fran (who was very happy with the piece when he read it one night at the workshop)wanted to perform the piece then she could submit that. I figured he'd be much too busy with other shows for this to happen, but, as luck would have it, he got back to me a day or so later saying that he was in fact eager to do it . . . now it has to be submitted and accepted, if that happens away we go. If the Woodstock Fringe thing happens in August I will have to keep a low profile with this one, but it should be fun to see what Fran does with it . . .
All this talk about solo pieces got me thinking about the genesis of my interest in the form; and I remembered that the O'Neill piece really wasn't my first shot at solo work. Damage Control started as a solo piece, then I made it into a two hander (well, three, but the girl has no lines). To give you a frame of reference, Damage Control was read at the Burning Coal Theater in Raleigh in 1999, so it's been in my head for a while this idea of solo shows, sort of composting until it became the rich soil that it has become. Old Hickory certainly won't be my last of these, but I intend to ride this one as long as I can . . . as I've said before, who knows what may come of it . . . if nothing else I'll get to present my work with no filters . . . the ultimate in artistic expression, if that doesn't sound too high handed.
A rehearsal tonight . . . can't wait!
Also, a bit of news on my other solo piece about O'Neill's father (it does have a title of course: The Red Hand of O'Neill). Cynthia, the AD of the Pelham group, Supporting Characters, asked if anyone had stuff to submit to the Samuel French festival in NYC. I suggested that if her hubby, Fran (who was very happy with the piece when he read it one night at the workshop)wanted to perform the piece then she could submit that. I figured he'd be much too busy with other shows for this to happen, but, as luck would have it, he got back to me a day or so later saying that he was in fact eager to do it . . . now it has to be submitted and accepted, if that happens away we go. If the Woodstock Fringe thing happens in August I will have to keep a low profile with this one, but it should be fun to see what Fran does with it . . .
All this talk about solo pieces got me thinking about the genesis of my interest in the form; and I remembered that the O'Neill piece really wasn't my first shot at solo work. Damage Control started as a solo piece, then I made it into a two hander (well, three, but the girl has no lines). To give you a frame of reference, Damage Control was read at the Burning Coal Theater in Raleigh in 1999, so it's been in my head for a while this idea of solo shows, sort of composting until it became the rich soil that it has become. Old Hickory certainly won't be my last of these, but I intend to ride this one as long as I can . . . as I've said before, who knows what may come of it . . . if nothing else I'll get to present my work with no filters . . . the ultimate in artistic expression, if that doesn't sound too high handed.
A rehearsal tonight . . . can't wait!
Sunday, March 7, 2010
A hand for Behanding
Went to see Martin McDonagh's new play last night, A Behanding in Spokane. Perhaps not a 'great' play, but it sure was a fun evening of theater. Christopher Walken is worth his weight in gold! Sam Rockwell was wonderful as well. Anthony Mackie was very good in a problematic role, and Zoe Kazan was the least satisfying of the performances overall.
I'd say see it, at least if you like McDonagh's work and have a taste for the unusual. It's twisted and cynical and dark and full of powerful images and work. Oh, and I didn't mention: it's also funny as hell.
Nice to see the theater staff jumping all over people using their cell phones just prior to the start of the show. they literally roamed the aisle's and told people point blank to turn them off. And I didn't hear one ring tone the whole time. When's the last time that happened?
Not for nothing, but I'm up to page 13 of 22. Creeping toward Babylon as it were. Oh, and I don't think I mentioned that I figured out how to burn a copy of the radio performance of Where the Rain Never Falls. It wasn't that hard, I just had to sit down and do it. The incentive was (name dropping alert) Bill Irwin. I see him at the Y all the time, and had mentioned the radio broadcast and subsequent archiving. Last week he said he was finally going to have a chance to listen and I told him it wasn't archived any longer . . . so I went home and figured out how to burn it. Next time I see him over there I'll drop it off to him (I make sure to take the disc with me when I go).
I also took the opportunity to tell him about Old Hickory. We commiserated about learning lines and I said 'At least I'm not learning Beckett' which was a reference to a solo piece I saw him do at the Classic Stage Company a long time ago, called Texts for Nothing. It was an amazing tour de force and set the bar pretty darn high!
So all's well. Eight weeks away from performance . . . about six weeks from now it'll start feeling oppressively near, but for right now it still seems sort of theoretical . . . theater is definitely the most fun you can have with your clothes on!
I'd say see it, at least if you like McDonagh's work and have a taste for the unusual. It's twisted and cynical and dark and full of powerful images and work. Oh, and I didn't mention: it's also funny as hell.
Nice to see the theater staff jumping all over people using their cell phones just prior to the start of the show. they literally roamed the aisle's and told people point blank to turn them off. And I didn't hear one ring tone the whole time. When's the last time that happened?
Not for nothing, but I'm up to page 13 of 22. Creeping toward Babylon as it were. Oh, and I don't think I mentioned that I figured out how to burn a copy of the radio performance of Where the Rain Never Falls. It wasn't that hard, I just had to sit down and do it. The incentive was (name dropping alert) Bill Irwin. I see him at the Y all the time, and had mentioned the radio broadcast and subsequent archiving. Last week he said he was finally going to have a chance to listen and I told him it wasn't archived any longer . . . so I went home and figured out how to burn it. Next time I see him over there I'll drop it off to him (I make sure to take the disc with me when I go).
I also took the opportunity to tell him about Old Hickory. We commiserated about learning lines and I said 'At least I'm not learning Beckett' which was a reference to a solo piece I saw him do at the Classic Stage Company a long time ago, called Texts for Nothing. It was an amazing tour de force and set the bar pretty darn high!
So all's well. Eight weeks away from performance . . . about six weeks from now it'll start feeling oppressively near, but for right now it still seems sort of theoretical . . . theater is definitely the most fun you can have with your clothes on!
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Day off? Maybe
So I woke up thinking that maybe today I'd take a day off from learning lines, but I probably won't. It has been going so well that I think I should keep the ball rolling. Though I do have to say that I went over the twelve pages I am up to now (did I tell you? twelve of twenty two!) with Bette and I did find that I am paraphrasing a little too much in some places. It's mostly little stuff, and no one else would notice, but it does, sometimes, hurt the music of the language a bit . . . I just want to get the play down fairly solidly and then go back and buff it up. At the risk of redundancy though, this whole line learning thing, though a heck of a lot of work, is coming fairly easily. Speaks well for the health of what is left of my brain!
I had intended to write yesterday because we had a very good rehearsal on Thursday night. But first: I went to an audition at equity Thurs. afternoon. It was a three day call for You Can't Take It With You and there are multiple roles in my age range. Now EPAs (equity principal auditions) are notorious because often they are required whether or not they intend to cast from the call, but this one said that all roles are open; and we had happened upon the film on the tube the other day . . . two days later I find out about the audition . . . hmmm . . . sometimes I think I'm being led somewhere. Also, the play opens its pre-Bway tryout in Boston on Sept. 24, my birthday! Ok. I have to go. I was planning on Friday (line up early and wait for a slot)but as it happened my daughter and some friends had to go into the city so I gave them a ride, then went to Equity. Now the last two times I went late to EPAs, like at 2 pm or something (they usually start at 9 am) they have been full to capacity with wait lists, no way to get in. I know it's a long shot; for a play like this with this many widely varied roles. I get there are 3:30 and there are plenty of slots! I couldn't believe it. Oh, and I used a bit from Old Hickory as my comedy monologue, though de-hillbillied a bit. It went pretty well. I wasn't sure whether to use the 'seduced in the car' part of it, especially when I found out that the person I was auditioning for was a young lady, but I went for it . . . and just used a character that was as surprised at what happened to him as everyone else.
That night at rehearsal, Wallace asked a lot of good questions, stuff that I haven't been exploring much yet, but he got the wheels turning: who are these people; how'd they meet; what does he do for a living; what was their life together like . . . all stuff that forms the backbone for the character, not stuff that the audience ever finds out about, but stuff that makes the characters richer. And for the first time I started working sans script in hand. Boy did that feel good. We were able to start exploring physical life and really made progress. Sometimes rehearsing and learning lines and all that can be a real slog . . . but this isn't. Wallace is fun to work with, and we are very simpatico.
I just realized the other day, though that we only have about seven weeks or so until the performance date. It'll be here before you know it.
I had intended to write yesterday because we had a very good rehearsal on Thursday night. But first: I went to an audition at equity Thurs. afternoon. It was a three day call for You Can't Take It With You and there are multiple roles in my age range. Now EPAs (equity principal auditions) are notorious because often they are required whether or not they intend to cast from the call, but this one said that all roles are open; and we had happened upon the film on the tube the other day . . . two days later I find out about the audition . . . hmmm . . . sometimes I think I'm being led somewhere. Also, the play opens its pre-Bway tryout in Boston on Sept. 24, my birthday! Ok. I have to go. I was planning on Friday (line up early and wait for a slot)but as it happened my daughter and some friends had to go into the city so I gave them a ride, then went to Equity. Now the last two times I went late to EPAs, like at 2 pm or something (they usually start at 9 am) they have been full to capacity with wait lists, no way to get in. I know it's a long shot; for a play like this with this many widely varied roles. I get there are 3:30 and there are plenty of slots! I couldn't believe it. Oh, and I used a bit from Old Hickory as my comedy monologue, though de-hillbillied a bit. It went pretty well. I wasn't sure whether to use the 'seduced in the car' part of it, especially when I found out that the person I was auditioning for was a young lady, but I went for it . . . and just used a character that was as surprised at what happened to him as everyone else.
That night at rehearsal, Wallace asked a lot of good questions, stuff that I haven't been exploring much yet, but he got the wheels turning: who are these people; how'd they meet; what does he do for a living; what was their life together like . . . all stuff that forms the backbone for the character, not stuff that the audience ever finds out about, but stuff that makes the characters richer. And for the first time I started working sans script in hand. Boy did that feel good. We were able to start exploring physical life and really made progress. Sometimes rehearsing and learning lines and all that can be a real slog . . . but this isn't. Wallace is fun to work with, and we are very simpatico.
I just realized the other day, though that we only have about seven weeks or so until the performance date. It'll be here before you know it.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Something new
I haven't looked over past postings to see if I've mentioned it before, but my hillbilly-absurdist-environmental-tragedy-comedy (as yet untitled) was unveiled for the first time in the Woodstock workshop last night. I had hoped it would be well received and it was. There some questions about change of tone and what not, but all in all the response was better than I had hoped. The best response of course is people laughing and there was plenty of that. You never know with these things. I have had stuff that I love fall flat, but one of the advantages of this workshop is that a) there are a lot of people there and laughter is contagious and b) the actors are really good, and age appropriate. As much as I enjoy being a part of my other groups, there isn't a lot of diversity age-wise, so it can be more of a stretch. Oh, and of course, the first words out of anyone's mouth when they started feedback was: what are ramps? Anytime I've mentioned them in a piece that is the first thing people want to know. It has almost become a cliche!
For those who don't know: ramps are a succulent little onion/garlic like plant that springs up in the woods in springtime. They are yummy little suckers, but pungent isn't a strong enough word. And you do sweat ramp for days after eating them. It never fails that if I mention them in a piece people are intrigued. I ought to make a big batch and bring them in some night . . . that would be an adventure.
as to my buddy Old Hickory: I did make progress with the dreaded line work yesterday. I shouldn't say 'dreaded' because I am enjoying it. tomorrow night will be the test though, when I am actually saying the lines with someone else in the room. Also, I had better make sure I type it up the way I'm doing it. I have made some changes on the fly that I think should stay, so I don't want Wallace to have to follow a script that is beyond it's expiration date. Oh, and Wallace wants to start earlier so we can do three hours instead of two . . . this is gonna be a workout . . . which I am definitely up for. I mean, what is better than to be acting in your own piece? I can't imagine it. I sure enjoyed doing Thirty Odd Years. I'll have to do it more often than once every five years though . . . that's way too long between things. but let me just say this about that: it ain't from lack of trying.
One of the things that finally got me off my butt with this solo piece thing was Bette's experience with a solo show workshop she went to. She said the person teaching the workshop started doing solo shows when she had something of an epiphany. She was auditioning and auditioning and often the shows were shit; so she figured if she was gonna do shit shows, they might as well be her own shit shows. So she started writing and has ended up winning awards and what have you. I am not worried about 'awards and what have you', I am just enjoying the process. It's one foot in front of the other and when you come to a door you open it. Right now I feel as if I'm through one door with a long hall in front of me . . . but it's not a scary hall . . . yet. I'm sure the closer we get to performance the scarier the surroundings will become.
Whatever, I'll be on stage with a knife in my hand . . . I'll be ready for anything!
For those who don't know: ramps are a succulent little onion/garlic like plant that springs up in the woods in springtime. They are yummy little suckers, but pungent isn't a strong enough word. And you do sweat ramp for days after eating them. It never fails that if I mention them in a piece people are intrigued. I ought to make a big batch and bring them in some night . . . that would be an adventure.
as to my buddy Old Hickory: I did make progress with the dreaded line work yesterday. I shouldn't say 'dreaded' because I am enjoying it. tomorrow night will be the test though, when I am actually saying the lines with someone else in the room. Also, I had better make sure I type it up the way I'm doing it. I have made some changes on the fly that I think should stay, so I don't want Wallace to have to follow a script that is beyond it's expiration date. Oh, and Wallace wants to start earlier so we can do three hours instead of two . . . this is gonna be a workout . . . which I am definitely up for. I mean, what is better than to be acting in your own piece? I can't imagine it. I sure enjoyed doing Thirty Odd Years. I'll have to do it more often than once every five years though . . . that's way too long between things. but let me just say this about that: it ain't from lack of trying.
One of the things that finally got me off my butt with this solo piece thing was Bette's experience with a solo show workshop she went to. She said the person teaching the workshop started doing solo shows when she had something of an epiphany. She was auditioning and auditioning and often the shows were shit; so she figured if she was gonna do shit shows, they might as well be her own shit shows. So she started writing and has ended up winning awards and what have you. I am not worried about 'awards and what have you', I am just enjoying the process. It's one foot in front of the other and when you come to a door you open it. Right now I feel as if I'm through one door with a long hall in front of me . . . but it's not a scary hall . . . yet. I'm sure the closer we get to performance the scarier the surroundings will become.
Whatever, I'll be on stage with a knife in my hand . . . I'll be ready for anything!
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