Anyone good at interpreting dreams?

Last night I had a very short dream as I was falling asleep--and I woke up thinking, "Wow, that was really profound; I need to remember it."  And then I went back to sleep and forgot about it until this afternoon when Norseman mentioned his dream.

I was sitting in the front row of a small theatre. On stage were two people whom I recognized as ME.  One of me was in a bright red sheath dress, fiery hair, very flamboyant. The other one of me was in a similar dress, but it was grayish greenish aqua-ish in color, understated hair and makeup. The Red Dress Me was trying to pull Aqua Dress Me into the spotlight, for some sort of recognition, as though Aqua had done something noteworthy and Red wanted to give credit where credit was due. But Aqua resisted as Red persisted. As I still watched from the audience.

And that's when I woke up.

I've never had a dream like this before, where it seems like my subconsious brain is clearly trying to tell me something.  I have no clue what it's trying to say, though.

Another blog, many more projects

Yeah, I have a lot of blogs. Genealogy blogs that get updated once every fourth or fifth solar eclipse. Project blogs that I'm leaving up but no longer update, various other blogs that I'm not sure yet whether to leave up or take down...

And a new one to add to the list: Moxiepants


Still in the building stages, but it's for my artsy fartsy crafty design stuff.  And Sunshine's too, I'm thinking. We'll see how it develops.

No consolation tattoo for me

I got the part of Emma, the maid! As this one is a non-musical, I shall have to start an Adventures in Non-Musical Theatre topic label :)  Emma is the smallest adult female role, which is nice. I get to work with Taffy, and I won't feel overwhelmed or stingy when I pray pray pray for Guys and Dolls.

I don't know yet if I'm double cast. Rehearsals start March 3rd. Will append this post with a cast list when it's published!

Yaaaaayyyyyy!  This is gonna be so much fun!


UPDATE: Single cast; official cast list: http://plazaco.wordpress.com/2012/02/24/the-official-cast-list-for-plaza-theatre-companys-production-of-the-happiest-millionaire/

It's not musical theatre, per se...

The movie was a musical, but that was the Disney-fied version.

I auditioned for The Happiest Millionaire last night, and I was invited to callbacks tonight.  And callbacks were great! That is to say I had a great time, and enjoyed almost every minute of it (except for the part where I *facepalm* asked to start over in an improv, but we'll just pretend that didn't happen, shall we?). I got to read for three different parts, and I think I did well with each, but ALL the women there did well.

My favorite part, though, had nothing to do with my audition. The girls auditioning for Cordy (the scrappy teen daughter) had to grab a volunteer and improv a boxing scene where they knocked their partner out. I volunteered to spar with K, who was an orphan on the other cast of Annie. We had about a minute to put together our scene, and I followed her directions, trusting her to duck 'cause I was swinging! She did great, I pretended to be hit, then she 'walloped' me and I went sprawling to the floor. It was so fun!

The director, Ms. Taffy Geisel (who also directed Annie), has a way of bringing out the very best in everyone--so much so that I'm honestly happy to have spent the two and a half hours there working with her. I may not get cast, but I hate to say it, whoever does get cast is gonna be wonderful!  Which is disconcerting, frustrating, but yet reassuring and maddening, all at the same time.  This play has only 13 roles, and all of the actors playing them have to be top-notch. There aren't any 'growing and nurturing' roles like there were in Annie.  While *I* think I could handle any of the women's roles in the play, I know I'm still new to this. I will totally understand if Taffy chooses not to cast me. I trust her completely.

I think it's safe to say this here--it would seem like kissing up on Facebook, but I'm pretty sure none of the Plaza folks read my blog: Taffy is probably the most amazing woman I've ever met (who is not related to me). She embodies this...calm... enthusiastic... strength. I know, sounds impossible, but if you've met her, you understand. I wrote before that she has physical limitations from muscular dystrophy, yet she's an actor, director, teacher, playwright, mom, wife, and no-excuses kind of lady. And humble and loving, with a heart for Jesus. She just amazes me. So when I say I trust her completely, I mean it. Of course I'll be sad not to get cast, as much sad about not getting to work with her as not getting to play on stage. Maybe Tina and Kara will let me be a costume grunt :)

Oh hey! And it turned out to be a good hair day!  It's still in that in-between stage: too long and too short to really do anything.  HOWEVER, with the help of a handful of bobby pins and some hot sticks, it's a good length for a 1915-ish finger wave and curly-backed updo.  It's too cute, and way too time-consuming, to wear like this every day, though. Unless, you know, it were for a specific role...

I should know by 10pm tomorrow!

(Edit at 7am: sometime in the wee hours when my brain refused sleep, I decided that if I don't get cast, I get a consolation prize with what I would have spent on corset and boots. And I'll get it on Monday.)

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...

I think my brain wants to be a ninja.

In a post a couple of weeks ago, I mentioned a dream that included some hand-to-hand combat, in which I prevailed.  The whole dream was very strange, and especially that part, because it was so real. I could feel an adrenaline rush when an attacker lunged at me with a knife, I could feel my body moving, my muscles straining. I could feel my fingers around his wrist, and then his head under my knee after I'd flipped him around and subdued him. I don't know that I'd ever in my life had a dream like that before.

And last night I had a dream wherin I was apparently affiliated with law enforcement. I fended off a thief who was much bigger than me (and who didn't appreciate being caught), but wrestled him face down on the floor, twisted his arms back, and held his hands for another police officer to handcuff. Again it was very real, right down to the feeling of dread that he was just the distraction, being stupid on purpose so an accomplice could get away.

Just so we're clear: in my waking hours I've never truly fought physically with anyone (sisters and flailing temper-tantrum-twelve-year-olds don't count). Zumba is the extent of my fitness training, and even there my coordination is... um... we'll just say 'lacking'... and I would surely go down in flames in a zumba-off.

A lifetime of 'normal' dreams; minimal action, perhaps a few with firearms, mushrooms and merry-go-rounds, weasels, water towers... you know, boring stuff. Most fairly low-key. Then bam, two dreams within three weeks in which I quite vividly kick bootay with my bare hands.  It's just... strange.

"In my sleep it's a sign, right?" --Yente

A sign, perhaps, but what does it mean?

Hat machine

I'm growing my hair out. Which isn't really something to blog about, I suppose. Except that it's making me crazy--wondering WHY and reminding myself not to get the scissors out.  I've cut my own hair for the past five or six years, so when it gets longer than my patience, I remedy the situation post haste.  But I'm wanting a more versatile look lately, which to my dismay means longer hair.

So it's currently too long to be 'easy' and too short to really do anything with. Some days it looks okay for a few hours if I let it dry curly. But then it goes blah and I don't have the patience to do anything but throw a hat over it (yep, almost every day is a hat day).  Until it went missing, my cap of choice had been an old military-style short-brimmed hat (ala Fidel Castro) that's green (except for paint splatters), safety-pinned together (thanks to a border collie), and bears a Corona beer logo.  I keep looking for it--how far could it have gone? But what to do until it turns up again? MAKE a new one with yarn I already have.  I found a pattern online that I modified heavily to my liking (so it's shaped a lot like my missing castro-style hat when it's on my head) and made it using clay-colored yarn, and loved the hat so much that I made Sunshine one, too.  It took only about an hour to make each, so why not make a green/teal one? And how about a red one to match my Forigner tee?  Ooh, a cream-colored one would be nice! And a solid teal one!  Gotta have black... Oh wow....

I need a purple one.

What a weekend

Yay! Opening weekend of Fiddler on the Roof was terrific!  If you get my blog via a reader, you may have missed the afternoon update on my last post, wherein my day brightened significantly.  That sunburst set the tone for the rest of the weekend, which turned out to be a good one, Thursday's preview included!

My kiddos were needed on the backstage crew for all this weekend's performances, so I had the pleasure of playing Yente for the volunteers during Preview, madly helping put finishing touches on costumes during the Friday opening, then sitting in the audience to watch and enjoy.  And it really is a good show. Funny, poignant, and hopeful--it's wonderful.  I sat in the lobby for the Saturday matinee and got to talk to people before the show and during intermission (and even received some origami birds as a gift from a preteen audience member). And then I rocked Yente on Saturday night. I love love love eliciting emotion from an audience, especially laughter. The show photographer was there, and possibly a reviewer or two, so I should at least have some pics to share soon. Best of all, I received positive feedback about my interpretation of Yente from several people whom I greatly respect, and I think even our former-Yente director is not at all unhappy. Yay!

This morning, I got up and baked brownies for a bake sale, then Norseman and I went and set up and worked said bake sale for a few hours until relief arrived (after I'd already bought a few items for myself!) before heading out to my folks' house for guitar lessons.

I feel like I need a weekend to recover from my weekend!

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!

I dream in Yiddish?

My dreaming brain astounds my waking brain on occasion. This is why I have several dozen stories started.  Sometimes I have a dream that is just so vivid, so lifelike, and so interesting that I absolutely have to write it down.  And writing it down engages my waking brain, which is always asking 'why'; answering those whys very frequently creates the bones of a story.

Yesterday, in my effort to be productive without spending money, I worked on various projects at home while listening to one of my favorite podcasts, Stuff You Should Know.  I'm really behind on all my podcasts, so I was listening to October and November episodes.  One episode on antimatter got me thinking about a fantasy story I have in progress (on the laptop that is still comatose), and how antimatter might help solve a technical issue in the story--I like even my fantasy stories to be scientifically feasible where possible.

And last night I attended Fiddler rehearsal where we worked on tightening up the wedding scene.

My dream last night was initially intriguing to my waking brain because it was mostly in Yiddish. And I don't speak Yiddish. But the more I thought about it, the more enthralled I became. My brain had incorporated bits and pieces of several different podcasts (none of them having to do with antimatter) into a Jewish wedding scene, added some hand-to-hand combat (I won), a mysterious person named Crispin, and a cryptic message.  It was like I was watching a good movie and woke up just before it got really good.  And now my caffeinated writer's brain is nearly bubbling over with whys and whos and wherefores and wows.

So today I am going to try to get some housework done amidst making notes and sketching structures.

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

More than perfunctory!

(love that word--it's fun to say!)

Another review for The Foreigner, this one positively stellar, and I got a whole paragraph!  (The reviewer missed the 'King' on my name, but the fabulousness is undiminished.)

http://thecolumnawards.org/columnonline/review.asp?rID=240&SEO=1-28-2012_THE-FOREIGNER

"Costume design by Stacey Greenawalt [King] is basic and perfect for the characters. None of the characters are "over the top" unless need be and subtle changes make for perfect accents to the production. Ms. Greenawalt [King] obviously understands the written characters and demonstrates that understanding, for example, with mismatched shoes on the "slow" character of Ellard Simms in one of his scenes. The attention to detail is shown throughout the production and executed well."  
--Reviewer Richard Blake for The Column

If Yente had her nose pierced

It could happen.  Though I think if Yente were going to pierce her nose, it would probably be a septum piercing, rather than an ala piercing...  I can see her with a ring through her septum like a beringed bull.

Fiddler opens in a little more than two weeks (I'll be in the preview cast two weeks from tomorrow, and then it officially opens two weeks from Friday).  In community theatre, actors are usually charged with doing their own makeup, so I've been playing around with age makeup for Yente if it's necessary. Hopefully it won't be. My Yente hopefully is going to be an homage to Bea Arthur's original Broadway character.  She was over 5'9" tall, and just 42 years old when she originated the role with Zero Mostel as Tevye and Maria Karnilova as Golde.  You can see all three characters in this image gallery (Bea's Yente is 4th from last). Interestingly, Maria Karnilova was 44 and wore age makeup to look 60-ish.  Bea wore no age makeup.

Now, I say 'hopefully' because the director seems to want the movie Yente, played by then 72-year-old Molly Picon, who was a scant five feet tall in shoes.  As I am nearly 5'8" and nearly 39, not to mention the fact that I hated the movie--the stage version is so much better--, Bea's Yente suits me better.  Besides, anyone can see the Picon's Yente any time--just rent the movie. They can't see Arthur's original Yente.

I'm going early to rehearsal tonight for an apparent Yente-Intensive, and I'm going to present my case for a younger, taller, Broadway Yente. Or at least a compromise, perhaps an older version of the original Yente. I really really really don't want to be the movie Yente, but that's the director's decision.

Anyway, here's a pic of me in age makeup and nose stud, in case you needed a smile.

I feel better

After seeing the cast list of The Drowsy Chaperone (http://plazaco.wordpress.com/2012/01/15/the-official-cast-list-of-plaza-theatre-companys-production-of-the-drowsy-chaperone/) I feel a lot better about my audition.  Of course it still wasn't my best, which was my goal, but I could have nailed it with sweet perfection and it wouldn't have made a dang bit of difference.

I do want to brag on my friend and Annie castmate Caitlan Davis, who will be appearing as the Chaperone in one cast and as Trix in the other.  She doesn't know this blog exists, so I can tell you honestly that Caitlan has an amazing —AMAZING— voice.  She's like a young Ethel Merman, but better. Ethel had some annoying vocal habits that sometimes got in the way of the song.  Caitlan's voice is big and pure, and when she's got a good song to sing, displays impressive range.  She's in college to become a teacher, but I think she's got potential, at least vocally, to end up on much bigger stages.

Happy Monday!

Dear future director self...

The Three Musketeers.  If I could choose any show to direct, it would be that one.  I've been re-reading the book, which I can't do anymore without picturing Chris O'Donnel as D'Artagnan, Oliver Platt as Porthos, Kiefer Sutherland as Athos, and  Charlie Sheen (patooie) as Aramis.  I loved the movie--that's when I first fell in love with Oliver Platt. *sigh* Yeah.....

Should I ever have the opportunity to direct a show (Musketeers or not), I'd want to be effective, efficient, and eloquent.  So this post is sort of a running To Do list (last updated August 2013) for my future director self, from my current actor self's point of view.

1. Know your script before auditions. I know this sounds like a gimme, but you should have read the script at least four times before auditions. Research the facts of the story. If it's set in 1948 England, know what is happening in 1948 England and the rest of the world. What historical events might have had an impact on the character's lives? Why did the author choose to tell this story, and why did he/she choose the words he did?

2. Before auditions, know the show: Have the set sketched with important pieces drawn in more detail. Have some blocking worked out on that set. Know the general feel of the costumes and the overall mood of the show. Even if you have directed/done the show before, approach with fresh eyes.

3. Make sides and detailed synopsis/history of the show and its characters available before auditions. Cold reads do nothing but make actors nervous.

4. Be on time and ready to go for auditions.

5. If anything has been cut from or added to the script, particularly if those changes are not fully reflected in the script given to the cast, a preliminary read-through is a must.  The whole cast must know what's in and what's out so they can begin to become familiar with the script as it will be presented in your particular production.  During the read-through, vocally set the scene as you anticipate it will be, so from the very first rehearsal, the cast has an idea of what you envision.

6. Share with your cast the history of the show, particularly if it's a classic Broadway script (musical or not). Give them some background on the author, about the show's stage history, about some of the various actors who have played the principal roles, and perhaps some of the different qualities each actor brought to their characters. While you are in no way attempting to 'copy' earlier productions, classic shows carry with them a certain burden of audience expectations, a responsibility to do the show justice, and every castmember must share in that burden/responsibility.

7. After the read through, encourage your principal actors to read the script again at least twice more before the next rehearsal. At a subsequent rehearsal sit down with them and discuss any character and inter-character dynamics that are necessary to the plot and/or flow of the story. Then talk to the actors one-on-one; find out their vision and share yours regarding each of their characters. Aside from specific traits written into the script or integral to the character (like Quasimodo's hunch), allow the actor some freedom to bring his or her own interpretation to the role.  If you and the actor have very different views, find a compromise and through the following rehearsals, initiate two-way communication about what's working and what isn't.  Remember that you're working with a stage script and not re-enacting the movie.  Different actors bring different qualities to their characters, and attempting to make them echo the movie character is unfair.

8. Encourage communication from the start.  Make sure actors have your email address, and let them know it's okay to ask questions about characterization, blocking, accents, etc.  Perhaps even set a consistent 'Director Access' time: arrive early to rehearsal one or more days a week, specifically to make yourself available outside of rehearsal time to discuss any issues actors may be having.

9. The cast will work better together when they feel like a family, when they feel like they are sharing in a common journey.  And they'll work better with you if they feel like you are on the journey as well, rather than dragging them all along.  Do something just for fun (team building) once a week. Where possible, include your prop/costume masters, stage manager, stage hands, and producers.

10. Even though you and your prop/costume masters may be getting paid, remember that your actors are there giving of themselves because they love what they do. Model leadership for and discuss leadership attitudes with your prop and costume masters. Encourage them to work with actors on costume and prop decisions that affect an actor's characterization.

11. Effectively memorizing lines involves more than just rote memorization. A great deal has to do with how the lines are paced in the scene, what other characters are saying, how other lines are played, and any actions that may go along with the lines.  It's a total brain thing.  At home, actors can certainly memorize lines by rote using their own tempo and cadence as a memory aide.  But when those actors are on stage in the scene and the lines are spaced differently, paced differently, played differently, and stage direction is added, the home rote-memorization can fly out the window. Block all scenes as early as possible, and run all dialogue scenes at least once a week, so actors are familiar with the spacing, pacing, and blocking of their lines and have ample opportunity to practice onsite.

Suggested rehearsal progression:
1. Read-through
2. Music
3. One-on-one character review
4. Blocking
5. Blocking
6. Music
7. Blocking
8. Blocking
9. Blocking
10. Music
Etc.

12. Foam board is your friend! Work with your set designer to create a scale model of the stage area and any set pieces you envision.  This will help you, as director, work out blocking, and help your actors better envision both the overall concept and the stage 'pictures' you have in mind.

13. It's okay to change your mind. It's bound to happen as rehearsals unfold and you see that this or that won't work as you'd envisioned.  But be sure to communicate changes effectively.  It's a good idea to preface the change with "This is a change," so the actor knows.

Foreign fotos

My name is in the paper!  Just a perfunctory mention, but kinda cool nonetheless.  It's a review of The Foreigner: http://www.keenestar.net/ci_19723441.

And while I'm at it, here are a few photos of my costuming handiwork.  You can find a few more on Plaza's blog, and still more on their Facebook page.  I made Froggy's British army uniform from scratch, including the rank and company patches on it. Except for, you know, the boots. And the beret. And the belt.  So just the shirt and pants, then. And the patch on the beret. Modified a sewing pattern to look more 'military-ish' and added tons of cargo pockets. And I think the uniform looks fabulous.

Also made a quick-change bow-tie for the character of Charlie. No pattern, just creativity.  The sweater-vest started life as a long-sleeved sweater.  Betty's apron started life as a curtain.

Overall, I truly had fun on this project!

It's all good

As hoped, writing therapy did the trick yesterday! Despite lack of sleep, I had a reasonably productive day and wasn't overly disappointed when, as expected, I received no call or email about Drowsy. Fiddler rehearsal was also terribly productive (it's gonna be amazing, y'all--fair warning).  More telling, I slept like a log last night. Woot!

Now I'm mulling auditioning for Millionaire.  It's not a musical, but I think I could handle any of the three adult women parts.  In the Disney movie, Mrs. Drexel Biddle was played by Greer Garson, and I played Mrs. Greer in Annie.  Hmmm... Is that a sign?  ;)

By the way, this is my 100th post on this blog!  And I forgot to notify Al Roker, dangit.

Where's the bar?

Somewhere around 5:15 this morning I let go of it enough to get some good sleep. For a whole hour and a half before my alarm went off.  Woke up and started to gnaw on it again. So I gotta blog about it, both for posterity and to get it out of my head so I can SLEEP.

I auditioned for The Drowsy Chaperone last night. I wasn't stressed at all. It was a learning audition. I'd heard whispers that the director already had people in mind for parts, so I had no expectations. None. There are only five named female characters, of which I have the vocal range for four, the age-range-ish for three. Lots of other talented ladies auditioned who've previously worked with this director. So while I went in to the audition intending to do my best, I had zero expectations.  I'd love to do the play, but I also wouldn't mind a bit of a breather, perhaps audition for Millionaire after all.  Most importantly, I had fun stapling feathers to my sweater and putting together a 1920's Hollywood hostess-style outfit, found some glam necklace bits to turn into clip-on earrings, did the finger wave thing with my hair.  I even sported my false eyelashes and exaggerated the big freckle on my cheek to look like a beauty mole. 

For two weeks I've been singing, singing, singing "As We Stumble Along" without music. I know the song so well I can sing it without thinking about it. I could sing it in my sleep if I'd been even a little bit stressed about remembering the words.

And all of that non-stress...evaporated...as soon as I walked through the door to the audition room.  Suddenly I was a goofy, gawky ball of nerves.  The piano player was reasonably okay; he'd never played the song before, and I'd never sung it with piano aside from my two-finger note-plucking on my phone app.  Okay, that right there, that previous sentence?  The part about NEVER singing it with piano? That. Was. Dumb. Dumb. Dumb. In retrospect, hearing the music and trying to make sure I was putting the right words with the right piano notes totally threw me off.  I messed up the lyrics not once, but twice.  And THIS is what I'm gnawing on. The zero expectations, no-stress approach meant I didn't really think it through. As a result, I feel like I let myself down. I didn't do my best, which was really my only goal.

Interestingly, while I was singing, a Fiddler castmate's 6- or 7-year old daughter popped up in the window (she was standing on tippy tippy toe on the other side) and flashed her beautiful smile at me. I grinned back and continued singing. Then there in the window was the top of her head and a stuffed cow hopping along the bottom of the window. I think I suppressed that chuckle. In Annie, we had many moments of unscripted audience participation--it didn't rattle me at all, and cutie-pie E hamming it up in the window didn't rattle me, either. It was WAAAAY less of a distraction for me than the coordinating-words-with-piano-notes thing.

So all of the following thoughts and stresses were crowding my head all night:

~ I'm afraid I came across as a diva because I don't want an ensemble role. The director doesn't know me, so what he sees is that I don't have anywhere near the experience to even consider being a diva.  But it's a 35 minute drive (which is paltry compared to some, but gas does get expensive), and I do have two kids at home.  And I'd likely have to rearrange my Fiddler performances to accommodate Drowsy rehearsals. A principal role in Drowsy would be well worth the adjustments needed.  But as tempting as an ensemble role is simply because I love this show, I really would rather watch it from the audience half a dozen times (which I will!) than commit the time and money to making the drive to rehearsals and rearrange my Fiddler schedule.

~The producer kept FROWNING AT ME! Logically I know it was probably her listening face, and I totally shouldn't have let it unnerve me.  But I've had the pleasure of hanging with her outside of an audition room, and that crinkly-foreheaded frown had yet to be directed at me. So what was running through my head during the entire audition (and throughout the night)?  "Milette is frowning. She thinks I suck. Is she looking at my getup and thinking it's too much?  No, she thinks I suck."

~I was auditioning for a comedic role.  Train wrecks aren't funny, dangit!

~I should have sung Miss Otis Regrets. I have the CD accompaniment for that, and I've sung it with piano before. Or Adelaide. Should have sung Adelaide. Or [insert name of practically any other tune here].

~I CAN DO THIS!!  WHY DO AUDITIONS FREAK ME OUT?!

So.

Another learning experience. Which is always a good thing. Another audition under my belt.  The director said he'd email, but my zero expectations are even less than zero now. Hopefully blogging this will allow me to LET IT GO. Learn from the experience, make better decisions, and do better next time.

So I'm a jackass

I'm feeling both wonderful and grumbly today. What is up with that?  I guess that might qualify as snarky?

I guess I'm just annoyed by the onslaught of quippy 'words of wisdom' in image form continually posted and reposted and reposted and reposted and reposted on Facebook. Six months ago when it was one person every other week, it was inspiring/cute/empowering/whatever.  I've even posted two myself, both in early August. Most were quotes from respected historical figures (like the Thoreau one I posted), or truisms about living within your means (like the other one I posted).  Now there are at least a dozen people in my news feed that post at least a dozen of these word pictures every stinkin' day.  Every once in a while, I admit, there are funny gems, but most of them are just silly, some even downright stupid.  Yes, I do hide some of those from my feed by hiding all photos from selected persons, but more and more people are posting them. Grr.

It got in my craw TODAY because a particularly idiotic one showed up in my feed four times. Something about haters and jackasses.  Whatever.  I sighed and skipped over it the first three times I saw it.  But the fourth time... Sorry Jeremy.  I couldn't let the fourth one slide by. Some people are haters for good reason.  I don't care how cute or rich he is, he has no business even pretending to backhand you and making you flinch.  And saying so doesn't mean I'm jealous, doesn't mean I'm trying to sabotage your relationship.  And a stupid quip equating 'hater' to 'jackass' doesn't make me a jackass.

I know it's meant as a joke.  Hahahaha. You're not a jackass whisperer. Get it? Hahahaha. OMG that's like so hilarious.

*ahem*

So! Today is gonna be a great day!  It's still raining, but the precipitation is much-needed, and it's supposed to clear up by noonish. We're gonna have to mow the grass! In January! Woot!  I've got a bunch of errands to run, then an OG meeting tonight, then (sshhhh) an audition, then rehearsal for Fiddler. Tech week is just three weeks away!  I'm feeling better than I have since before Christmas (hooray for clear snot!)--that alone is reason to smile.  Oh, and I'm caffeinated.  That's a bonus, too.

*singing* The halls are alive... with the sound of chihuahua snoring....

2012 Goals

I waffle from year to year on whether setting New Year's resolutions or goals is a worthwhile endeavor.  Some years it seems like an important thing to do; other years it seems ridiculous.  Possibly has at least a little bit to do with what sorts of goals others around me set and if anyone inspires me one way or the other.    Here are my 2010 goals, inspired by my sister. Go ahead, check it out. I'll wait.....   Yeah.  Here's a two-years-later update:

1. Still can't park the truck in the garage.
2. I did find studio space elsewhere.
3. I did expand my business, but only created more bills.
4. That damned carpet is still there, as is the same gold paint.
5. Afghans still unfinished.
6. House still a wreck.

So. Only two out of six accomplished, and one of those didn't work out the way I'd hoped.

This year I have two Life Resolutions rather than New Year's Resolutions.  Both are maintenance resolutions--I'm already here, and I resolve to stay here.  But breaking them into one-year increments isn't a bad idea, so here they are:

1. Continue to make sure my booty fits comfortably into my size 4 jeans.  Approaching 40, it's harder and harder to defy my genetic programming, but my skinny jeans shall prevail over my fat genes.
2. Continue to find and claim my moxie.

And then I guess I have some general goals for 2012, nothing too lofty.

1. Be more diligent about using coupons.  It's time-consuming, but ultimately worthwhile.
2. Go for my yearly check-up for the first time in five years.
3. Streamline.
4. Grow out my hair.

I think I can handle these :)