Thanks to…

The show closed today.

This was a challenging show, but I loved the cast, top to bottom. Stellar and a lot of fun. I will miss my castmates!

When I close a show, I give a thanks to all the people I know that saw it. Bold indicates they’ve seen all of my shows, and, therefore, rock.

  • Mom and Dad
  • Missy
  • Tiff and Bill
  • Melanie
  • Bryan and Sarah
  • Bethany
  • Rita 
  • Mark
  • Ben
  • Britt

And, of course, everyone else who attended during the run, even if I didn’t know you. We wouldn’t have a show to do without an audience!

More thoughts on the show going up tomorrow.

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Girls gone Celibate

Our director (who’s also the theater’s artistic director) created this page for the show–sort of a mini-site. So check out the photos and character descriptions!

(PS: I have NO IDEA where the “wanting to smack me” idea comes in. Personally, I think Angustias is way more sinned against than sinning.)

Two more performances!

“Food, Glorious Food!”

The New York Times recently ran an article about Eating and Opera, which I found interesting and instructive. I haven’t had to eat much onstage, but I do for Bernarda Alba–Act III opens with a dinner scene. Our director has concocted a rice/peas “main dish” for us to eat, and there’s also a bowl of grapes and three bottles of liquid–although those aren’t able to be drunk, since they are tough to open (as I found out during tech week). So the tumblers on the table stay empty.

I eat a few bites of rice, and try to get a few grapes. The grapes work the best since they’re liquid, essentially. The rice can be OK, but if it’s dry, then it’s not so great, because it can get stuck in the throat and cause issues (again, as I learned during the first few performances, since we didn’t have the food during tech). Some of the other actresses, though, don’t have this problem and plow through their helping. The director knows how much to give each of us by now–the food is plated during the Act II/III intermission. We also have bread and a few other things for the first act.

When I did Earnest, there was food involved–those cucumber sandwiches, and tea!–but I didn’t get to eat any of it, sadly. I’ve never had to eat as part of a musical. Even in Oliver!, “Food, Glorious Food” is mostly imaginary. 🙂 There’s no “pease pudding”, “hot sausage and mustard” or “cold jelly and custard.”

The biggest problem I’ve ever had with food is backstage–you have to be careful not to knock it over! We do eat the grapes throughout the performance–a healthy way to keep off hunger! And I was known to sneak a few sugar cubes (yes, actual sugar cubes!) during the Earnest run. (hey, it was a long show. Needed sugar.)

I think it’s fun to have the food. It definitely adds to the realism of the show. But it also has its drawbacks, in that property needs to be washed (all the plates, and cutlery) at some point, plus keeping us stocked with food. I wouldn’t mind something to drink in the dinner scene, but then you have to worry about spills on costumes, so I can definitely see why we’re not doing that.

But some “opera chicken”? Heck, I’d say yes.

Epicness

Bed! Go to bed! 

I couldn’t go to bed!

My head’s too light to try to set it down!

Sleep, go to sleep!

I couldn’t sleep tonight!

Not for all the jewels in the crown…

–“I Could’ve Danced All Night” , My Fair Lady

That’s how a super great–nay, EPIC–performance feels.  Like, what I”m feeling right now.

I have to go to bed. My alarm will be going off in a little over eight hours. But right now? Total epicness. I could, indeed, dance all night.

Audrey Hepburn, "I Could Have Danced All Night."

(And then I’d crash in the AM. That probably happened to Eliza but we just don’t see it.)

There is almost nothing I’ve experienced like the high of a good performance. Maybe when I’m with little kids and they do something cool, or when a baby says his first word in front of me, or I’m bodysurfing in the Atlantic. But those aren’t really the same thing. There is so much energy after a good performance. I feel like I could write War and Peace right now. (If Tolstoy hadn’t already done it.)

Every time I perform this show, I find something new to do, something new I understand about this character.

11 more shows to go!

Now, sadly, since my life is NOT a musical, I have to go to bed. 

“Don’t you agree now? She ought to be in bed!”