Opening night was last night and it was fantastic. We have endured six months of grueling physical rehearsals conducted by Hylan, linguistic perfecting from Dory, and the mastering of motives and aspects of our characters from Dr. Gentile. I have never felt the exillerated in any production. Just to be a part of a project that was over four years in the making, the tweaking, the commaraderie, the new friends I made, the goals I have set for myself, and the overall leviathan of what I have learned during this process is character building and irreplaceble.
And to think that I have only five more shows to do before we sweep away our mandala of whiteness. Its ending is bittersweet because, yes, I will have time to myself to get a job and hang around but I won't be around the best guys ever. I love being the girl in a group full of guys and the only girls in cast were me, Brianna, and Whitney. The guys really make the show what it is and I am so happy to have all of them be a part of my life. I hope to know them better in the future.
Et si le garcon mignon qui est dans l'ensemble avec moi quitte sa copine, je vais etre plus heureuse!
I blanked on a line during dress rehearsal the night before so I was nervous about it but I was perfectly fine and gave Mrs. Hussey the best run I think I've ever done. My towel dropped out of my apron and sat on the rake for a couple of scenes but other than that the production was smooth. That was minor in comparison to the millions of hazardous things that could have happened.
In other events, next Tuesday I will be auditioning for The Glass Menagerie, and sometime next week will also be auditioning for Steel Magnolias, both plays I did in high school. Hopefully I get into one of them. I should also be concentrating on getting a job. I won't say anything for fear I'll jinx myself.
Break my legs for me!
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
The Leevee Sleeps Tonight: A Review and Lesson in Theatre Etiquette
I guess two weeks is a normal occurrence for a hiatus. I would know, I never say anything until I post a ridiculously wordy entry about everything in my life!
As you may have noticed, I tweaked my blog a bit, pulled some strings, pushed some red buttons. It has been recently that I realized that the majority of my blogposts have had something to do with performance, be it watching or performing myself, and thus I made it a little more specific. I find that everything I do that is blogged has something to do with theatre, which is totally kosher with me.
So, onto the most recent show!
As I have mentioned before, I am the happy partaker in a season pass to the Fox Theatre. This pass is for six shows: The Rat Pack, The Wedding Singer, The Drowsy Chaperone (an absolutely excellent show!), Avenue Q (again- most excellent), The Lion King, and Sweeney Todd (the most anticipated of all).
Now, some of these (the first, second, and fifth), I had predetermined that I would not enjoy them simply because they are not, in my mind, real musicals. In my biased eye, a real musical constitutes:
* An original script specifically arranged for the stage. Not taken from a film and adapted into a stage play.
* An immaculate cast, handpicked from the top musically talented actors from anywhere. As well as specifically trained attune ones.
* Actors that embody characters and really understand who they are and play them effectively. Method actors are, albeit, crazy, but at least they are damn good.
I did not receive any of the other night and am sorry to say that I think I am the only person in the entire world who did not like The Lion King, the musical.
We arrived at the Atlanta Civic Center an hour before showtime and had our tickets scanned. I went to go to the can and have a cigarette before the show. I ask one of the ticket scanners if it was ok for me to pop outside, have a cigarette, and come back. She said if I have my ticket, I should be fine so I thank her and go feed my tumors. I come back through a different door and the guy takes my ticket and scans it. As he's doing this, I politely tell him I already had it scanned and I was coming back in. He tells me I'm not allowed to do that and then tells me the person hadn't scanned my ticket the last time because it registered on his, yadda yadda. Maybe I haphazardly fed him bullshit but I got through and was in a very "fuck you" mood.
Took my seat at the far left side of the theatre decently close to the stage with intersecting aisles in front of me. I saw my OB/GYN, who stopped to say hello to my family. I saw her two weeks ago. Hopefully I can wait the full 50 more weeks before I have to see her again. The lights dim.
The show begins with Rafiki, played by________ (insert name here because I lost my goddamn program), who was absolutely amazing. She had this incredibly engaging, intriguing voice that belted out the famous "Na Sen Goynya" and it shook the house. Then the curtain to the left of us opened and a elephant came out. You can see the actor inside but you pay more attention to the elaborate detail of the costumes of everyone as all the other animals entered from various places in the house. I'm not one for spectacle, but I enjoyed how they staged that because it seemed like someone blew a horn on stage and all the animals came running from different areas.
However, shortly after about the fourth scene, the four seats next to me suddenly were filled with late-comers, who all had their cellphones on! The lady next to me crossed her legs, keeping her phone in the crease so she could text messages like a highschooler.
Rules for going to a production, not matter what it is:
* TURN YOUR GODDAMN CELLPHONE OFF OR I WILL BEAT YOU. Even if it's on silent, that light is a beacon and it disturbs the people around you who paid for the show to enjoy it without some dipshit ruining it for them.
* Arrive on time. Again, why would you pay for something just to get there late? Leave early. Sit awhile. Schmooz. Because you may miss integral parts to the plot and you definitely will disturb people next to you and around you.
I digress.
Any scene with Rafiki was awesome. The rest, however, were difficult for me to sit through. The actors who played Mufasa and Scar were awful. They would basically recite their lines, not pay attention to what they were saying, not pay attention to what the other was saying, actually listen to them, they presupposed emotion. It was all kinds of bad. Jess said I'm too critical because they probably got tired from doing the show day after day, but that doesn't matter! No matter what, you treat every night as if it were opening night. You don't allow yourself to slack off, you have fun with it. I could see the actors' boredom and I shouldn't have been able to see that.
The kid who played young Simba was flat every single song. He also was not a very good actor. Once again, if you think me too critical, there are child prodigies out there or, at least, kids who have had musical training.
As far as the music itself, I was delighted to hear familiar songs and hear Timon sing "The Lion Sleeps Tonight." All the original songs from the movie are amazing because they're written by Elton John and they have that nostalgic meaning for me. Granted the whole score is written by Elton John and Tim Rice- so my question is: What the hell were you thinking when you ADDED the most meaningless songs ever?! Musicals don't necessarily have meaning but some do and those are the ones I like. These new numbers take away from the story. How else are we going to teach a watered-down version of Shakespeare's immortal tale of Hamlet to new generations of kids? The songs that are added are frivolous (Zazu's "Morning Report," the hyenas' "Chow Down," Simba's"Endless Night") and just reitterate ideas that have already been established. Zazu is going to give a morning report, hyenas are carnivorous, and Simba has to run through the dark to kill his uncle. They didn't add anything to the story.
They made characters more obnoxious, lame fart jokes a-plenty, sometimes the singers couldn't be heard, and there were 10 minute dance solos in the middle of songs.
It was all about spectacle and if you had never seen the movie before, I'd be surprised if you could follow the plot. I just wish they would concentrate on the content of the story because it makes you think. Thinking makes you smarter. Why are people so entertained by shiny things? Do we always have to see things outright or can we just form our own ideas about what went on? I understand it's a kid show and I was a kid when it first came out but there are a lot of themes to The Lion King and they can executed better.
Things I liked: Rafiki, the ensemble cast, the costumes, the amazing raked stage, and the songs that weren't in English. That's it.
And that's me being Simon Cowell and a cruel bugger. I hate bad theatre.
As you may have noticed, I tweaked my blog a bit, pulled some strings, pushed some red buttons. It has been recently that I realized that the majority of my blogposts have had something to do with performance, be it watching or performing myself, and thus I made it a little more specific. I find that everything I do that is blogged has something to do with theatre, which is totally kosher with me.
So, onto the most recent show!
As I have mentioned before, I am the happy partaker in a season pass to the Fox Theatre. This pass is for six shows: The Rat Pack, The Wedding Singer, The Drowsy Chaperone (an absolutely excellent show!), Avenue Q (again- most excellent), The Lion King, and Sweeney Todd (the most anticipated of all).
Now, some of these (the first, second, and fifth), I had predetermined that I would not enjoy them simply because they are not, in my mind, real musicals. In my biased eye, a real musical constitutes:
* An original script specifically arranged for the stage. Not taken from a film and adapted into a stage play.
* An immaculate cast, handpicked from the top musically talented actors from anywhere. As well as specifically trained attune ones.
* Actors that embody characters and really understand who they are and play them effectively. Method actors are, albeit, crazy, but at least they are damn good.
I did not receive any of the other night and am sorry to say that I think I am the only person in the entire world who did not like The Lion King, the musical.
We arrived at the Atlanta Civic Center an hour before showtime and had our tickets scanned. I went to go to the can and have a cigarette before the show. I ask one of the ticket scanners if it was ok for me to pop outside, have a cigarette, and come back. She said if I have my ticket, I should be fine so I thank her and go feed my tumors. I come back through a different door and the guy takes my ticket and scans it. As he's doing this, I politely tell him I already had it scanned and I was coming back in. He tells me I'm not allowed to do that and then tells me the person hadn't scanned my ticket the last time because it registered on his, yadda yadda. Maybe I haphazardly fed him bullshit but I got through and was in a very "fuck you" mood.
Took my seat at the far left side of the theatre decently close to the stage with intersecting aisles in front of me. I saw my OB/GYN, who stopped to say hello to my family. I saw her two weeks ago. Hopefully I can wait the full 50 more weeks before I have to see her again. The lights dim.
The show begins with Rafiki, played by________ (insert name here because I lost my goddamn program), who was absolutely amazing. She had this incredibly engaging, intriguing voice that belted out the famous "Na Sen Goynya" and it shook the house. Then the curtain to the left of us opened and a elephant came out. You can see the actor inside but you pay more attention to the elaborate detail of the costumes of everyone as all the other animals entered from various places in the house. I'm not one for spectacle, but I enjoyed how they staged that because it seemed like someone blew a horn on stage and all the animals came running from different areas.
However, shortly after about the fourth scene, the four seats next to me suddenly were filled with late-comers, who all had their cellphones on! The lady next to me crossed her legs, keeping her phone in the crease so she could text messages like a highschooler.
Rules for going to a production, not matter what it is:
* TURN YOUR GODDAMN CELLPHONE OFF OR I WILL BEAT YOU. Even if it's on silent, that light is a beacon and it disturbs the people around you who paid for the show to enjoy it without some dipshit ruining it for them.
* Arrive on time. Again, why would you pay for something just to get there late? Leave early. Sit awhile. Schmooz. Because you may miss integral parts to the plot and you definitely will disturb people next to you and around you.
I digress.
Any scene with Rafiki was awesome. The rest, however, were difficult for me to sit through. The actors who played Mufasa and Scar were awful. They would basically recite their lines, not pay attention to what they were saying, not pay attention to what the other was saying, actually listen to them, they presupposed emotion. It was all kinds of bad. Jess said I'm too critical because they probably got tired from doing the show day after day, but that doesn't matter! No matter what, you treat every night as if it were opening night. You don't allow yourself to slack off, you have fun with it. I could see the actors' boredom and I shouldn't have been able to see that.
The kid who played young Simba was flat every single song. He also was not a very good actor. Once again, if you think me too critical, there are child prodigies out there or, at least, kids who have had musical training.
As far as the music itself, I was delighted to hear familiar songs and hear Timon sing "The Lion Sleeps Tonight." All the original songs from the movie are amazing because they're written by Elton John and they have that nostalgic meaning for me. Granted the whole score is written by Elton John and Tim Rice- so my question is: What the hell were you thinking when you ADDED the most meaningless songs ever?! Musicals don't necessarily have meaning but some do and those are the ones I like. These new numbers take away from the story. How else are we going to teach a watered-down version of Shakespeare's immortal tale of Hamlet to new generations of kids? The songs that are added are frivolous (Zazu's "Morning Report," the hyenas' "Chow Down," Simba's"Endless Night") and just reitterate ideas that have already been established. Zazu is going to give a morning report, hyenas are carnivorous, and Simba has to run through the dark to kill his uncle. They didn't add anything to the story.
They made characters more obnoxious, lame fart jokes a-plenty, sometimes the singers couldn't be heard, and there were 10 minute dance solos in the middle of songs.
It was all about spectacle and if you had never seen the movie before, I'd be surprised if you could follow the plot. I just wish they would concentrate on the content of the story because it makes you think. Thinking makes you smarter. Why are people so entertained by shiny things? Do we always have to see things outright or can we just form our own ideas about what went on? I understand it's a kid show and I was a kid when it first came out but there are a lot of themes to The Lion King and they can executed better.
Things I liked: Rafiki, the ensemble cast, the costumes, the amazing raked stage, and the songs that weren't in English. That's it.
And that's me being Simon Cowell and a cruel bugger. I hate bad theatre.
Thursday, April 3, 2008
The Hussey Bloggeth
A week hath past since I last bloggeth. I sincerely wish my life weren't so devoured by grueling rehearsals that may or may not be in dire need of my presence, an active social life, and the obligation of using my superior intellect to type last-minute papers for my professors. But my life would not be so damn interesting if I sat and ate Cheetos all day, so for that I am greatful.
I have had a very constructive week, though, I must say. Last Friday I was very pleased to attend the Atlanta Storytelling Festival in "Fucking Decatur" (it is not longer solely Decatur- it is Fucking Decatur because it's 575, 75, 285, exit 40 miles away. That's fuckoff forever) with Chris, who took the Lincoln towncar from the limo company he works for. I felt very posh and was saddened to be sans grey poupon.
I saw my friend Scottie Rowell's performance and it was phenomenal. I don't know much about him personally and so it was great to see him perform this story about him growing up and his relationship with his family. I could empathize and sympathize with him and I came out of the show feeling closer to my friend. I really love how storytelling is like that- making peaceful unions with people on person levels. Seriously, world peace can be acheived through better ways than protests, smoking pot, and recycling.
I also saw a very odd performance that gave performance art a bad name. I consider myself an artistically open actor and am very supportive of new enterprises and experimental works but I did not get it at all. His introduction of a mock Carol Burnett opening really drew away from the performance, and his four minute dance solos that took place to different songs I hear in elevators across America made no sense sequentially. One thing I did like, however, was his prerecorded story and the interpretive dance that went with it. It was like a flowing kibuki theatre tecnique where he would move fluidly and then when he stopped on a beat, it would be a pose representing the word stated in the monologue. That was cool- the rest was crap. I think he was looking for a venue. But- kudos to the guy because it does take guts to pour your soul into something and to have exposed to critics.
I then Saturday night attended Rocky Horror in Norcross, whoring it up with Lisa and Jess. We arrived and were part of a six person audience with the rest of the roughly 14 cast members. For their April Fools edition of Rocky, they had their drag show where "drag queens and drag queens at heart" could compete to win. I race up there and this guy who looks familiar (who we later mutually realized was my partner in the math class I dropped last semester. Last time I see him he's an ASP coordinator at Kennesaw and then I see him in full on drag- who knew?) and we are the only competitors for the competition. He picks me up and spins me around- something everybody in the world does because I'm tiny- and we crack a few jokes. So we have to tell what our drag names are and why we should win. He replies with something that wasn't cheeky enough for me to remember. Naomi, our EmCee, asks:
What is your drag name?
My reply: Patty O'Furniture
Everyone laughs for about 2 minutes and then she says:
I don't think I need to ask now but why should you win?
Because I choose style over substance.
So by a round of applause, we are rated by our audience and I received a resounding wave. I presented myself in my dress and heels and so did he, the real drag queen, and I won. Well, technically we both won because they had two bags of candy. It was fantastically fun. And now that I have Bruno running, I told them that I would love to join cast and would probably do so after Moby Dick was finished.
I guess I have dedicated this post to my adventures in performance so I'll continue on with the theme. Today I discovered by being on the Facebook page for Theatre in the Square, I received 2 complementary tickets to see The Little Dog Laughed on the Alley Stage. I originally wanted to take my mom but she had a scheduling conflict so I decided to ask Miss Kelly Belly Jelly, a good friend of mine, to accompany me on my gratuitous opportunity. She obliged and I am very glad she did because not only is her companionship always appreciated, but I didn't have to see a risque, awkward play where there are naked men fucking on stage with my mother sitting next to me. The play itself was exceptional; the actors were believable and had spot-on cominc timing. It's people like that I aspire to be. We both agreed that we loved it and were also big fans of the free food served at the reception afterwards.
Moby Dick is fishing along swimmingly and curtain goes up April 15. So fill out your taxes and come see me in a fat suit. I expect to see a lot of familiar faces or I will take a herring to your face and don't think for a second that I am kidding. We've worked extrememly hard on this show and I want at least 3 nights to sell out, even if I am not being paid for this. Come support the theatre majors because the money may not directly go to our pockets but to the production department that we live in. Also the set is amazing and you should at least see it with actors on it. I'll step off my soapbox now.
Until next week, adieu!
I have had a very constructive week, though, I must say. Last Friday I was very pleased to attend the Atlanta Storytelling Festival in "Fucking Decatur" (it is not longer solely Decatur- it is Fucking Decatur because it's 575, 75, 285, exit 40 miles away. That's fuckoff forever) with Chris, who took the Lincoln towncar from the limo company he works for. I felt very posh and was saddened to be sans grey poupon.
I saw my friend Scottie Rowell's performance and it was phenomenal. I don't know much about him personally and so it was great to see him perform this story about him growing up and his relationship with his family. I could empathize and sympathize with him and I came out of the show feeling closer to my friend. I really love how storytelling is like that- making peaceful unions with people on person levels. Seriously, world peace can be acheived through better ways than protests, smoking pot, and recycling.
I also saw a very odd performance that gave performance art a bad name. I consider myself an artistically open actor and am very supportive of new enterprises and experimental works but I did not get it at all. His introduction of a mock Carol Burnett opening really drew away from the performance, and his four minute dance solos that took place to different songs I hear in elevators across America made no sense sequentially. One thing I did like, however, was his prerecorded story and the interpretive dance that went with it. It was like a flowing kibuki theatre tecnique where he would move fluidly and then when he stopped on a beat, it would be a pose representing the word stated in the monologue. That was cool- the rest was crap. I think he was looking for a venue. But- kudos to the guy because it does take guts to pour your soul into something and to have exposed to critics.
I then Saturday night attended Rocky Horror in Norcross, whoring it up with Lisa and Jess. We arrived and were part of a six person audience with the rest of the roughly 14 cast members. For their April Fools edition of Rocky, they had their drag show where "drag queens and drag queens at heart" could compete to win. I race up there and this guy who looks familiar (who we later mutually realized was my partner in the math class I dropped last semester. Last time I see him he's an ASP coordinator at Kennesaw and then I see him in full on drag- who knew?) and we are the only competitors for the competition. He picks me up and spins me around- something everybody in the world does because I'm tiny- and we crack a few jokes. So we have to tell what our drag names are and why we should win. He replies with something that wasn't cheeky enough for me to remember. Naomi, our EmCee, asks:
What is your drag name?
My reply: Patty O'Furniture
Everyone laughs for about 2 minutes and then she says:
I don't think I need to ask now but why should you win?
Because I choose style over substance.
So by a round of applause, we are rated by our audience and I received a resounding wave. I presented myself in my dress and heels and so did he, the real drag queen, and I won. Well, technically we both won because they had two bags of candy. It was fantastically fun. And now that I have Bruno running, I told them that I would love to join cast and would probably do so after Moby Dick was finished.
I guess I have dedicated this post to my adventures in performance so I'll continue on with the theme. Today I discovered by being on the Facebook page for Theatre in the Square, I received 2 complementary tickets to see The Little Dog Laughed on the Alley Stage. I originally wanted to take my mom but she had a scheduling conflict so I decided to ask Miss Kelly Belly Jelly, a good friend of mine, to accompany me on my gratuitous opportunity. She obliged and I am very glad she did because not only is her companionship always appreciated, but I didn't have to see a risque, awkward play where there are naked men fucking on stage with my mother sitting next to me. The play itself was exceptional; the actors were believable and had spot-on cominc timing. It's people like that I aspire to be. We both agreed that we loved it and were also big fans of the free food served at the reception afterwards.
Moby Dick is fishing along swimmingly and curtain goes up April 15. So fill out your taxes and come see me in a fat suit. I expect to see a lot of familiar faces or I will take a herring to your face and don't think for a second that I am kidding. We've worked extrememly hard on this show and I want at least 3 nights to sell out, even if I am not being paid for this. Come support the theatre majors because the money may not directly go to our pockets but to the production department that we live in. Also the set is amazing and you should at least see it with actors on it. I'll step off my soapbox now.
Until next week, adieu!
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