Ragtime family affair

Much to all of our surprise, we were all called and offered parts in Ragtime :) Norseman will be a newsboy, Sunshine a person of New Rochelle, and I will be Kathleen, the Irish maid. What did I say about my ease with accents? And I've already twice proven I can be a terrific maid. I'm very excited to be doing another show with both my kiddos.

I can't lie, though. I'm still disappointed. But ever since Annie callbacks, I've known without a shred of doubt there's a Higher Plan. I needed Plaza this past year more than I possibly could have known I would. And thus far, the hardest disappointment paved the way for the biggest blessing. Not getting Adelaide was brutal, but now I see that if I'd gotten Adelaide, I wouldn't have gotten Ethel. And it turns out that I really needed Ethel. So I will trust that Higher Plan, trust the producers and directors, and play the best danged Irish maid I can.

With my amazing kids by my side. Yes, this will be a great show.

Is 'Update' too boring a title?

Work. Still on the fence about this. My boss and coworkers are wonderful people, and I'm eager/anxious to become more familiar with my job and gain the confidence I need to do it effectively. This week I spent three days in training, learning Satori Alternatives to Managing Aggression (SAMA) and more standard stuff that every MHMRTC employee needs to know. Friday I was actually in the office for the first time. And somehow Friday was much more exhausting than the three days of often very physically challenging SAMA. Right now I'm still a little overwhelmed.

At least I was able to get the first few days out of the way without also having to worry about getting kids to school. But alas, school starts tomorrow. For the first time in my memory NO ONE is excited about it, not even Sunshine. At one time school was the center of their social universe, but they now have a much wider circle of friends. So we're all sort of stressing about this coming week.

Also this week: Classes start at Plaza Academy. Both kids are on scholarship as interns, and are taking Ballet for Teens AND Audition Prep. I'm excited for them! We couldn't afford classes this semester, so the intern scholarships are hugely appreciated.

Related news: We all auditioned for Ragtime, and were all very disappointed. Which happens in theatre. There is always stiff competition for roles, and in good theatres that's especially so. Plaza is a stellar theatre. Sunshine and Norseman sang beautifully at their auditions (it was Norseman's very first audition ever), and felt they did well on the cold read. Both were complimented on their voices, but neither was called back. I was crazy nervous as usual at the audition, but thought I did very well--better than usual. I was called back for 'various female roles', but didn't understand until I got there that that meant the female roles that were not Mother, Emma, or Evelyn. That I was deemed unworthy of a main role without being given the opportunity to read for it was... really tough. In this case it wasn't actually a surprise, per se, I didn't truly expect to get one of those parts, but I did think I'd be given the opportunity to at least read. Anyway, as a result of my trying not to cry/throw up/scream, I didn't do so wonderful on the stuff I WAS asked to read. Lots of other very talented ladies there did much much better and deserve the opportunity, and new/prodigal faces are never a bad thing, so I don't expect to get cast. Pretty much the only thing I have in my favor is my ease with accents.

Callbacks were yesterday, so the day started out on a rough note, but ended nicely! My sister and mom wanted to go see Forever Plaid, so I got us all tickets. Saturday night shows are always great, especially because that's the night more Plaza alum attend.  Got to see lots of former castmates and give/get lots of hugs. Which I really really needed yesterday.

Little did I know...

I've been without Internet access for a while, and so much has happened since I last blogged, that I'm a little bit at a loss where to start. In my last post I said life was calming down. Ha. HahahahahahahaHA!

Little did I know that my house had been sold in foreclosure that very morning (but I wouldn't find out for another week). I won't go into gory details, but suffice to say life was NOT anywhere near a calming-down point.  Within three weeks I found a new place for the three of us to live, picked up, and moved. So easy to type, but really a STRESSSFUUULLL thing to do.

Our saving grace throughout the whole ordeal was Footloose and our amazing castmates. The fact that all three of us had that escape, where we could take the stage together, become other people, struggle as our characters and triumph every single time... It was precious.  I had no idea when Footloose opened just how much closer to Ethel's life mine would become. I had no idea what stress she would see me through. I had no idea how much those 'I love you, Mom' hugs from JB, my terrific stage son, would mean.

So after Saturday's closing show, all day Sunday, and into Monday, I was a hot mess. The show, and our saving grace, has ended, even though life's craziness goes on. The people that we've grown so accustomed to seeing over the last twelve weeks are headed back to their regular lives, many to college in other cities. We miss them already. A lot.

And a new chapter of life begins for us, too. I've got a new job, with Tarrant County Mental Health and Mental Retardation services as an employment specialist. My official first day is August 21st, but I've got pre-employment appointments next week. I haven't worked full time for someone besides me in a very long time; I've never worked full time as a single parent. It's going to be a huge adjustment for all of us, and I'm honestly a little scared. (What? Stacey scared?)

Tonight I went to preview night of Forever Plaid at Plaza. We helped with the changeover on Tuesday and Wednesday, and Norseman was asked to Assistant Stage Manage... It is such a cute show. Not as high-energy as Footloose, but quite entertaining nonetheless. It was still sad for me, though. One week ago, I was Ethel on that stage. I'm not sure if it helped or not to know the eyes I painted for Footloose are still there, visible if you know to look for them, under the cheesy Fuselounge wall fringe.

I did have a hard time letting go of Annie, largely because it was my first show. But at the time, I was already cast as Yente and had something to jump directly into. Millionaire's close was sad because it was such a small tight-knit cast, but I had no emotional attachment to Emma (frankly she annoyed me), and I had Guys and Dolls immediately after. Footloose, though... *sigh* This one has been especially hard to let go of. Ethel was me, and I was Ethel. She wore my clothes, now I'm wearing hers. She struggled and nurtured and danced victorious. I'm struggling and nurturing, and I hope someday to dance victorious. And I have nothing to jump directly into. Ragtime auditions are the evening of my first day of work. I may get cast, I may not. Even if I do, Ragtime is a big heavy show like Fiddler, not high-spirited and fun.

Until work/Ragtime, we're getting settled into the new place. Unpacking, moving in, adjusting. Trying not to think too much about upcoming changes. Missing our stage family (Sunshine and JB would argue about whose mom I was. "She's MY mom." "No, she's MY mom.").

God never gives you more than you can handle. Right about now I'm clinging to that promise.

Moxiepants activate!

I love doing multiple shows with the same actors, because I have the opportunity to build a rapport with some really wonderful people. I'm amazed by how many theatre folks tend to be on the shy side. It seems counter-intuitive, I know. After the second or third show, you get to see some of the humor and silliness that lurks in these quieter actors. I love that!

I also love being able to work with new people.  By and large, theatre folks are just wonderfully kind, caring, humble people, and one can never have too many of those around.  There are about a dozen actors in Guys and Dolls with whom I've never before worked or shared the stage, so it's been very cool to rehearse with these folks, and I look forward to back stage time with most of them.  Two in particular stand out in my mind, though, for different reasons.

One seems to be disparaged by many other cast members, but I've found this person to be encouraging and helpful. Yes, sometimes a little annoying, but not overly so.

Another is beloved by most other cast members, but I've found this person to be... well... kind of a poop.  At last night's rehearsal, my respect for this person dropped significantly.

Regardless, I'm very excited for opening weekend!  My double is graduating on Saturday, so we switched Friday and Saturday nights, so I'm not playing opening night. But I'm okay with that.

Today is our last audience-less rehearsal, and my stress about stealing focus or losing my balance officially gets kicked to the curb. I've mastered enough of the choreography to not look totally inept, so today I embrace a dorky, saucy and sassy Hot Box Girl.

Moxiepants activate! (*grin*)

I think it's Emma's fault

Not sure what exactly sparked this epiphany. Perhaps it was my use in Real Life a hand movement I created for the character of Yente.  She didn't use a cane, but needed another identifiable 'tick' that the girls could mimic in 'Matchmaker.'

Fact: I honestly had no trouble with the choreography at Dolls callbacks in March.
Fact: I can't nail the choreography for my life now, in May, and it's SO frustrating!!
Question: What happened in the intervening weeks?
Answer: Emma.

At the time of my auditions, Fiddler had been over for more than a week, and The Happiest Millionaire had rehearsed just twice. There had not yet been any character development. I'd not even really begun to find Emma, to figure out how she fit into the family, what character traits she needed in order to stay reasonably sane in the Biddle household dealing with prize fighters and alligators and teenagers on a daily basis.  So it was ME at auditions, with minuscule blips of Yente.

Weeks later, after I'd gotten a good handle on Emma, I remember telling Taffy, our director, that it took me a long time after each rehearsal to unwind from being Emma. She's very high-strung, quite excitable, and even more dorky than I am.  I'm single cast, so now Emma MUST be 'on' for nearly half of my week. I don't truly unwind from weekend to weekend.

Dolls rehearsals are also held in the theatre, on the Millionaire set. On that stage, essentially in the Biddle living room, Emma leaks profusely into my Hot Box Girl (minus the British accent). So my Hot Box Girl has been high-strung, excitable, and even more dorky than I am.

Characters leak. Tragic example: Heath Ledger, very talented actor, couldn't shake the Joker, and died likely as an indirect result. He was filming Dr. Parnassus at the time, months after The Dark Knight had wrapped, but the Joker hung on.

I'm still practicing choreography relentlessly, but will also take time to figure out who my Hot Box Girl is inside, what character traits she needs to be a burlesque dancer in 1949 NYC, friends with Miss Adelaide.

Let's hope some combination of these tactics provides some graceful results...

Old dog, new tricks

True story: I was 15 years old when I tried out for Raiderettes, the dance squad that performed at football halftime shows and pep rallies. I was 5'6" of long flailing limbs, but I wanted so much to be that dancer, to have that graceful control over my body. I lacked any sort of refined gross motor skills, so not surprisingly, I didn't make the team. I was disappointed, but focused my attention on other things where I wouldn't make a fool of myself. Like art, newspaper, and drama.

Over the next 20+ years, that lack of refined gross motor skills never posed any sort of hurdle for me. I could  keep a beat and dance when out with friends, I could gradually move away from the very back of the class in step or zumba classes. In the real world, most adults don't need the grace and coordination of a dancer.

Unless they want to do musical theatre.

When they discover that their brains are even less capable now of piloting those long flailing limbs than they were at age 15.

Which is utterly ridiculous and unfair, when I think about it. When I was 15, I'd had only two or three years' experience being 5'6". It makes sense that I might not have mastered the skills needed for finer movement. I did grow another two inches some time over the next 15 years, but for heaven sake, I've been this tall for a long time, stayed fit and mostly trim, and I can do the electric slide and the macarena!

But rather than time-earned mastery of physical movement, I honestly feel like I have some sort of learning disability. Equating dance steps to spoken words, I can get the little words, like 'and' and 'go' and 'the', and with practice, words like 'bank', 'truck', and perhaps even 'recliner.' But as much as I desperately want it to, my brain just cannot form sentences with them because when they occur a bunch at a time, they make no sense to me: Go the and truck recliner to the and bank bank go the recliner bank refrigerato-shoot and the the cat tree go the the. I get the 'words' switched around or stumble over them completely.  And the more I stumble, the more flustered I get.

Last night I decided that I'm a Hot Box Girl because my daddy owns the club.  But even if a cutesy dork dancer is funny and would garner laughs, Adelaide is the focus of the Hot Box numbers. And I feel that drawing attention away from her is a disservice to both that actress and the authors of the show.

So today I'm going to see if I can't use that dance-step vs. word correlation analogy to find words that will assemble into meaningful sentences. At the very least, I want to get the words in the right order. The occasional 'trunk' in place of 'truck' is a little easier to cover than 'go' in place of 'refrigerator.'

Snagged an Ethel, and other stuff

Yay! This almost makes up for missing out on Adelaide!  I found out last night that I get to be one of the Ethel McCormacks (Ren's mom) in Plaza's summer production of Footloose! My Sunshine (and possibly my Norseman) will be in the ensemble, so we'll actually get to share the stage for the first time! I'm very excited! This is also the first production where I'll get to sing almost-solo. Wooty woot woot!

Through the Footloose audition process, I discovered something interesting. Give me a woman with an accent and a history far removed from me--I got it, no problem. Give me a woman who is essentially ME, and I'm a wreck.  It surprised me how frazzled I was. Even at callbacks, which have been, heretofore, my stronger performance, I was a shaky mess. But it was SO worth it!

In other theatre news, The Happiest Millionaire is going really REALLY well! It's been selling out, which I think is surprising everyone. Sunshine is a fabulous dresser (helps with quick costume changes), and Norseman wrangles the alligator. We got a very nice review from The Column, which gave rare praise for a strong ensemble. Emma is such a small part, comparatively, but I get wonderful comments from patrons.  The best so far: "Great job! You should have had a bigger role."  Also signed an autograph this past weekend. I am so blessed to be involved with this show. I love love love this cast. Eight more shows over the next two weekends, and then it's on to...

Guys and Dolls. Wow. This one has been a blow to my poise-related self esteem. I'm a huge dork; I know; I don't deny it. But the effort involved with making these dork limbs behave in a way that resembles the choreographed dance is... pathetic. My very patient castmates are, at this point, rolling their eyes and (rightly) thinking to themselves (and undoubtedly whispering to each other), "Good Lord, how has she managed to get this far with so little coordination?" And I know they're afraid I won't get it in time for opening night. But I will. The process is a little rough and unrefined, though. Practice, practice, practice. I'll get it, and I'll be better for it. Forging new synapses in my brain that will hopefully stick around until the next time I have to dance in a prescribed routine.

And I'm doing all this as an essentially single mom. D has moved to Oklahoma to take over an old friend's plumbing company--a terrific opportunity for him, too good to pass up. The kids and I are staying here. Norseman has a year left of high school, and Sunshine at this point has no desire whatsoever to move to Oklahoma.  We get together as a family every other weekend, and it's working quite well.

Probably ought to go wash the car. It's currently sporting two states worth of bird poo and bug guts...

Three Fiddler pics

I'll admit to being supremely disappointed.

The Fiddler photo CD I ordered before the show closed finally arrived yesterday. (Plaza has an arrangement with a third-party photographer to come in and photograph each show. The photographer then offers photo CDs for sale to the actors toward the end of the show's run.) For nearly four weeks I'd eagerly checked the mailbox, hoping it would come. And when it was there yesterday, I very nearly squealed with glee. I rushed inside and popped it into the computer to pull up the photos...

As my glee deflated and disappeared.

For the Friday/SatMat cast, there were 125+ fabulous photos, including about a dozen of my double CC as Yente.  For the Thurs/Sat cast, there were 46 photos, and many of those near copies of Friday/SatMat photos because they're of single cast people doing what they did every show.  Since nearly all of the principal characters were doubled, there are precious few photos of the people with whom I had the honor of sharing the stage.  And that makes me sad.

The photos were taken opening weekend. If the camera or lens malfunctioned and it was a matter of not being able to get good photos, there were still five more weekends, ten more performances, to get photos.

Now the show is long done, no way to go back and get pictures.

*sigh*  Anyway.  I'll share the two and a half photos that included me.  The first one is from the opening scene, where Yente tells Avram she's found the perfect match for his son.

This second one is from the first scene, where Yente visits Golde to tell her about the match for Tzeitel. I'm stealing a potato.

Finally, the wedding scene, right before intermission. I'm the black-clad one at the bottom. I love the pic, though, because it shows how amazing the set and lighting were...

Hot Box girl!

Let me say first that I got a part in Guys and Dolls! I'll be struttin' my stuff as a Hot Box girl, which means I'm part of the female chorus.  I love love love this show, so I am [mostly] thrilled.  The call came later than I thought, so I was actually relieved to get any part at all.  I haven't seen the full cast list yet, but from what I have seen, it's going to be kick-bootay, of course.

It's utterly ridiculous, but I was caught a bit off guard by how hard it hit me. I knew it was gonna happen, have known for about two weeks generally how it would play out, prepared myself for the inevitable, but callbacks went so well that I had ardently hoped to be an unlikely double.  Since 5th or 6th grade, belting out 'Bushel and a Peck' and prancing around my basement 'stage' in hand-kludged costumes, I have wanted to play Adelaide.  So even before I auditioned for Annie, when I saw Guys and Dolls was in the line-up for this season, I knew I would audition.  In the mean time, I gathered as much experience as I could, to earn my stripes, prove my mettle, so I could be a serious contender for the role.

Logically, it's a no-brainer. Here's my long list of reasons I knew I was not going to be cast as Adelaide:
1. Very talented producer auditioning for the same part. And she will indeed knock it out of the park.
2. I'm in the Happiest Millionaire, and will potentially miss two weeks of rehearsal.
3. I'm new still and haven't earned my major role eligibility stripes.
4. Directors need to make nice stage pictures with fairly matched principal characters. I'm nearly 5'8", skinny, and don't match well.
5. In most cases, doubles need to at least resemble each other, and as I said, I'm nearly 5'8", a good six inches taller than the one I knew would get the part.
6. Life is full of disappointment, duh.

So yeah, even though I saw it coming a mile away and was prepared for it, I still cried. But I am happy to be doing the show at all. Maybe next time the opportunity arises to audition for Adelaide, I'll still be young enough to be a serious contender.

10:00 am edit: Wanted to reiterate that I'm excited and grateful to be part of the show! The costumes will be amazing, especially for the ladies, and that thought alone makes me giggle.  I do trust the Bigger Picture, and am grateful to continue to be part of Plaza Theatre Company productions, where the people are loving, Godly, and just ridiculously wonderful.  Where the only expectations of me are to wear cool costumes, to remember some words, so sing and dance with fabulous people, and to be somebody else for a little while. With the other crazy stressful stuff going on right now, Plaza is an integral part of my Sanity Maintenance Plan.

Fiddler reviews

Whaaat?  I have no ADD tendencies, I don't know what you're talking about. Oooh!! Hang on, I just saw a cardinal out the window--can you repeat the question?

Ohhhh, yeah. *grin*

Yeah, so this is one of SEVEN posts that are sitting in draft mode on my blogger dashboard. I'm aiming to go ahead and post it and trim that number down to a mere six.

I have mixed feelings about sharing Fiddler reviews, because they are all specific to only half the cast. The majority of the principal roles are double-cast, and the reviewers all apparently came to the opening Saturday night show, which featured only one set of principals, obviously.  So the fabulous performances of the Saturday matinee cast: Burl Proctor (Tevye), Judy Keller (Golde), Christia Caudle (Yente), Jessica Astorga (Tzeitel), Monica Music (Hodel), and Julianna Keller (Chava), are barely mentioned, if at all. Which to me is a bit unfair because these actors are every bit as much a part of this production as the Saturday evening cast.

But the reviews are kick-booty, I must say. Not always complimentary of me personally (one reviewer clearly expected the elderly movie Yente, which I'm not even attempting to emulate), but resoundingly gushing over the production as a whole. The headlines probably speak for themselves, but follow the links to see the whole review. For the Texas Jewish Post, the review is a PDF scan of the actual newspaper, so I've transcribed the text into this post.

From the Keene Star
Fiddler may be Plaza's best!

From The Column
Fiddler on the Roof

From the Feb 9th issue of Texas Jewish Post, page 10 (transcribed under link):
Plaza Theatre's 'Fiddler' succeeds in style, song — and authenticity

By Amy Wolff Sorter

Cleburne, Texas, population 29,337, is the seat of Johnson County. It's known for its beautiful state park and authentic and thriving downtown.

Cleburne is not, however, a bastion of Judaism. The nearest synagogues are in Waco (approximately 60 miles to the south) and Fort Worth (approximately 35 miles to the north). There are no hard and fast statistics concerning the number of Jews in Johnson County, but it's safe to say that the number is far less than the 5,000 Jewish souls who inhabit Tarrant County.

As such, it's interesting to watch the Cleburne-based Plaza Theatre Company's production of "Fiddler on the Roof." The show creates a close to three-hour experience during which the audience is immersed in the lives of the characters populating the fictitious Russian village of Anatevka during the turn of the 20th century.

The songs are performed brilliantly--Tzeitel, Hodel and Chava (portrayed by Tabitha Barrus, Katrina Nicholas and Taylor O'Toole respectively) beautifully sing they don't want help from matchmaker Yente in finding their perfect matches. Motel (Jerry Downey), Perchik (Andrew Guzman) and Fyedka (Auston McIntosh) provide the perfect and appealing mates for Tevye's daughters. Samantha Parrish as Golde is the perfect Yiddishe momma, not only nailing the accent to a "T", but thrilling the audience with her pure-as-gold-voice. Meanwhile, Stacey Greenawalt King's portrayal of the constantly complaining but ever optimistic Yente provides a lot of chuckles (not to mention familiarity—we all have Yentes in our lives).

The show is led by the appealing and larger-than-life G. Aaron Siler, who portrays Tevye. For much of the show, Siler's Tevye gives the audience the full range of emotions, from humorous observations, to resigned amusement (living in a household of six women can't be easy); to outright grief a the changes coming his way. Siler's energy in portraying the strong-minded Tevye is matched only be a smooth-as-butter baritone that never falters.

There is no doubt the cast is outstanding. But what is even more striking, is the sheer "Jewishness" of this productions. The costumes, courtesy of Kara Barnes, are as close to authentic as can be (complete with the tzitzit and tallit for the men and head coverings for the women). Certainly the use of modified cowboy hats as head coverings could be considered a stretch. On the other hand (with apologies to Tevye), Anatevka is a poor town, complete with milk cows and horses—it doesn't take much to imagine some of the residents wearing modified Stetsons.

Overall, the focus on the Jewish traditions -- complete with Tevye washing his hands prior to the Shabbat meal, the female head of household moving her hands in a circular motion over the candles to welcome the Shabbat Queen and Tzeitel's circling of Motel during their wedding ceremony, adds wonderful elements.

None of this was an accident. Soni Barrus, who co-directed the show with Jodie Barrus, explained she did a ton of research in preparation. She also grilled her cast throughout rehearsals, showing members Jewish-themed media and giving them Yiddish words to ensure proper pronunciation of certain phrases. "I wanted the cast to understand the characters as real people who understand where they're coming from," Barrus said. "I wanted them to know this wasn't just 'acting,' but sharing an experience with fellow human beings."

Then there are the production's other outstanding attributes. For one thing, the theatre space is in the round--a challenging enough proposition for any play. For this particular production of "Fiddler," during which, at time, there are 45 people on a stage the size of a medium-size living room, the challenges multiply. But Barrus said the cast embraced the challenge of having the audience literally right on top of it. Furthermore, she added, the audience loves it.

"You're sitting 10 feet away from a man who is soulful and expressive about the changes happening to his family," she commented. "He's being asked to change his personal beliefs and, to the audience, it's heart-wrenching as they become emotionally involved."

"Involved" is right; the production doesn't hesitate to break the fourth wall as often as possible. For example, during "Sabbath Prayer," cast members move into the audience to light Shabbat candles. It's a beautiful and moving moment that can't fail to create goose bumps.

Needless to say, "Fiddler" wasn't selected because of its Jewish flavor. The show, by Joseph Stein (the book); Jerry Bock (the composer) and Sheldon Harnick (the lyricist) is based on "Tevye the Milkman and Other Tales" by Sholem Alchiem and has gained a wide following since its Broadway premier in 1964. As such, from a demographic perspective, Barrus said, it's perfect for Plaza Theatre. "There are a lot of older people who come to our shows, and it's a great show for them," she said.

It's also hopeful. Even as the villagers sadly leave Anatevka for unknown realms, there is hope that Tevye will eventually earn his "big, tall house with rooms by the dozen;" hope that Motel and Tzeitel will succeed; hope that Perchik will be freed from his Siberian prison and have a good life with Hodel; hope that Tevye will accept his Chavaleh's marriage to the gentile Fyedka—and hope that Golde and Tevye will live to a ripe, old age in America.

"Though the plot ends tragically, we learn, as we grow older, that we can grow from changes," Barrus said. "There are bad times, but sometimes good can come out of it. That's one of the messages of this show."

"Fiddler on the Roof" will run through March 10 at Plaza Theatre Company, 111 S. Main St., Cleburne. Cost for tickets ranges from $12-$15. Please not the lead roles are double cast. For more information call 817-202-0600 or visit www.plaza-theatre.com.

Annnnd.... down to six draft posts in three, two, one...

That pause at the top of the roller coaster

So tonight is preview night for Fiddler. On Facebook I have to be happy and shiny and enthusiastic, 'cause it really will be a good show and I don't want to cast a shadow for locals. But not many people read this blog, and the only locals who read it are related to me, so I can be honest.

*sigh* Right now I'm weary, eager to get this show on the road already. With Annie I never once considered quitting. I was so excited to be there, I loved every second, and I was kinda sad when the show opened because the process of getting to that point had been so enjoyable and meaningful, and that part of the journey was over. I missed seeing my castmates nearly every day.

With Fiddler I have cried myself to sleep more than once.  I've had to continually remind myself that I LOVE doing this, and that I made a commitment when I auditioned.  And though no one has expressly talked about it, I know without doubt that I'm not the only castmember to feel that way. Which is sort of comforting in a way. To know I'm not the only melodramatic soul.

So, being a proactive person, I'm going to bake yummy mini-muffins or bite-size cookies or something to take to my castmates tonight as a thank you/good will offering.  And I'm gonna do what I can to be a ray of sunshine for a cloudy cast.

***Edited at 3pm to add:
It's very cloudy today.  I mention that because I went to the theatre to help out with changeover however I could. Prayed and went over my lines and prayed and went over my lines and prayed some more on the drive there.  As I got within a few blocks of the theatre, I happened to be asking God to lift my spirits so I could be that ray of sunshine. And at that moment, the sun broke through the clouds and blazed its brilliance right in my face. I had to laugh (and got a little choked up, I admit).  And the sun stayed out, more or less, as I got to the theatre, parked, and walked into the building smiling.  And I had a good day running to get some last minute stuff needed, painting the floor and generally being helpful. And my stress level is markedly reduced! Thanks, Big Guy!

Now I'm about to go pick up my Sunshine from school, then come home and dip some pretzel rods into chocolate and sprinkles to take with me tonight.

It's a good day!

Some theatre lessons are harder than others

Oy! I need to get my laptop up and running and write on stuff other than this blog!  This is ridiculous!  Updating almost daily!  Unheard of!  But writing is apparently part of my sanity-maintenance self-treatment plan.

Anyway.*sigh*

New theatre experience last night that I need to process (aka write through): I got yelled at by the director.  And most everything she said was valid.  So it was mostly deserved, I guess. We did reach somewhat of an understanding, but I'm still stressing.  Someday I'll have more experience, and I'll know how to avoid situations like this, or at least not take it so much to heart when they arise. But as I'm still very new, still growing that thick skin, it's stressful and disheartening. Which means... I have to write.  Just the act of writing is cathartic, and ordinarily that's all I need, but I'm gonna go ahead and publish this for those who find my blog through google, looking for theatre information. Some lessons are harder than others, and maybe reading about someone else's struggle will help another newbie.

All the things I didn't, couldn't say last night...

Dear Director,
When I first thought about auditioning for Fiddler, and thought about what roles I could write in the "What role are you auditioning for?" spot, I wasn't sure I could even hope to be Yente.  Every production of Fiddler I've ever seen has had a movie Yente.  I figured it was written into the script that Yente was old and hobbling.  So I researched a bit. Google Books has the 1964 script, IBDB has information on the original production. And discovered that the role was originated by a young, able-bodied Bea Arthur and I sang 'Halelujia!'. I could maybe be a younger, brasher Yente!  So I auditioned.

AND I GOT THE PART!  And I sang 'Halelujia!' again because I thought "Hey! The directors are open to a younger Yente! Can I hear a what-what? Woo-hoo!"  I dove into channeling Bea, discovering that young, brash Yente in the 1964 photo. No cane, no age makeup.

And then... before we'd run a single line... you told me I must have a cane.

I was so disappointed.  But I nodded and said okay, and even found a cane to practice with, brought it to rehearsal.  I adjusted the character to accommodate.   Perhaps Yente didn't need a cane, but used it more as a status symbol and sometimes weapon.  Okay, I thought. No big deal.

Then you told me I needed to USE the cane more. Hobble.  And I explained that I thought my Yente didn't need a cane, but used it more as a status symbol and sometimes weapon.  You shook your head and set your jaw. Nope.

So I used the cane more. Hobbled a bit.

You told me I should 'forget' the cane when I stood up.  As directed I 'forgot' the cane when I stood up.  You got frustrated with me and told me I needed to hunch, and grab my back, "Oy, my sciatica!", if I was going to leave the cane behind.  In my head I was thinking, "You TOLD me to leave the cane behind!" as my heart was breaking a little because my Yente, the Yente I had hoped to be, was flushed down the toilet with those words. But what I verbally took issue with was the hunch. Something inane about my height. It was silly, I know. But the hunch was for me the death of a youthful Yente. So I retrieved the cane and tried to at least follow exactly the directions you had given but I was flustered and my lines were shot. You said speak up, I said I'll be miked. And bam. In that moment I could sense that I had just become 'that' castmember. The difficult one. The one who has an excuse for everything, that doesn't want to play well with others.  I choked back a sob when I got off stage. Again, silly, I know.

On Tuesday I did my best to hunch and hobble and incorporate every stage direction you'd given. Then I came off stage and my double relayed to me the message about arriving early on Wednesday to go over Yente stuff. The fact that she told me about it and not you (even though you had opportunity) alarmed me. I stressed the entire drive home. All night long. All morning Wednesday. My thoughts: I'm obviously not hunching and hobbling enough. I can't hunch and hobble and move quickly. I suck at being the 'standard' Yente. I don't want to be the 'movie' Yente!! If people want the movie Yente, they can pull her up on YouTube for free anytime they want!  People come to Plaza to see fresh, innovative live theatre!

So I sent you an email early in the day, asking you to give me the opportunity to play Yente more as I think Bea Arthur did.

And last night you were upset. Upset that I had emailed, rather than talk to you in person. I'm a writer; I communicate best with written words.  Upset that I had thrown history at you. I included some historical information so you would know that I'd done some research into it, and wasn't just asking on a whim or to be difficult, not because I thought you didn't already know.  I apologized rather than explain, because I didn't want to prove right there that I was indeed 'that' castmember.

Yes, I should have talked to you weeks ago, in person.  Should have pulled you aside and fully discussed my view of Yente when it became apparent that our views weren't the same. Instead I tried to meld our views. Because here's the thing: You intimidate me. It's not a usual thing, so I'm a little unsure of how to effectively BE intimidated. You've spent the last 40+ years on stage, running theatres, directing shows, living theatre, and raising amazingly talented theatre kids who in turn are raising amazingly talented theatre kids. You've played Yente!  I've spent most of the last 30 years simply wishing I could be on stage. Wistfully attending plays. Wistfully reading plays. I'm new to this, and still unsure of myself despite outward appearances. And when you yell at others for screwing up, I cower just a smidge inside. Outside of being costumed for Annie and working with your family, I don't know you, what to expect from you. From my view, you have very definite ideas about what you envision and what you expect. End of story. I felt it was my responsibility as an actor to meet your expectations and do my part to make your vision happen. If anything was negotiable, I couldn't tell.

I thank you for allowing me to give a younger Yente a shot, though I can tell through your expressions and body language during rehearsal last night that you are not happy about it. It's not how you envisioned; it's not how you played her. But thank you for letting me try, anyway.  After seeing the daughters mimic Yente in the Matchmaker number, I'm thinking perhaps the cane might be necessary, but more as a scepter for the uncontested Matchmaker rather than a physical crutch. Today I am working on milking the comedy while standing straight and tall. And despite the whiny, high-maintenance tone of this post (I apologize), I'm confident I will succeed, at least for audiences.

Stacey