localfreak: avatar which I have used as mine since scarboard days 10 years ago (Default)
IT IS DONE.

I have gone to my watery death clutching my bundle of sad twigs and weeds for the last time.

It's actually incredibly hard to post a coherent narrative about putting on a show. How on earth can one person put the hours of sweat and tears and laughter and terror into a few lines and link them all together? Perhaps there can only ever be summaries.

I think I probably explained in a previous post why after a pretty successful first night our subsequent run had to be postponed due to our Hamlet's injuries. He lost his looks for the performance, but will be having reconstructive surgery at the end of the month and didn't need serious rhinoplasty as the bone was okay so that's something. He of course gave an excellent performance the past few nights.

I really enjoyed myself. There is a magic in theatre that I don't think can every really be verbalised or quantified. It goes something like:

a script
a group of people
MAGIC
a show

it's been true for me since I first thundered heavily onto the wooden staging as the grumpy innkeeper in a comedic retelling of the nativity story, age eight (I can still remember one kid, Joanne, who was one of the wise men, her eyes enormous in her head as I hollered like the king lion in Bedknobs and Broomsticks "ROUND THE BACK" in her face. She got her revenge a few years later, playing the vicious lawyer for the prosecution as I, as Toad of Toad Hall, cowered in the dock). Even in high school with a class full of drug addicts, stoners and bullies the same format works when the Magic comes. Suddenly the world is a different place,people who hate you suddenly behave as friends -for the length of the show at least everyone works in a kind of harmony for the bigger picture.

Of course there were some hairy moments in the run as a whole, a handful of dropped lines here and there, different every night but these were minor and really to be expected. A play as long as Hamlet (even with our necessary edits) is like a human organism, born newly each night with different flaws and wrinkles within the same overall shape.

I'm satisfied. I met my cues. I got my lines. If I can no longer successfully cry on cue I hope I managed to give enough of an impression of Ophelia's grief and confusion without that.

Next year: The Crucible

I'm going to go from timid and heartbroken flower to vengeful and seductive psychopath. MWAHAHAHA I can't wait!
localfreak: avatar which I have used as mine since scarboard days 10 years ago (Default)
WOOOOH Show is over! It is done! All went well. Or, at least, any fluffs were minor and the audience liked it. My friends came to see it and were lovely, and Mum, Nanny, Uncle Rob and our friend Ann came as well (Mum came three nights out of four because she is both crazy and lovely, what was good to hear though is I was slightly out of time on the last night and Mum said she didn't notice and if anyone was likely to notice in the audience it would've been her).

We had the wrap party last night, the disco was good (wooh, function room with cheesy disco and only people who were invited allowed in the room so I felt comfortable enough to make a tit of myself dancing to a few songs. It is funny though because in many of the speeches people commented on the 'diverse group of people' all coming together for the show, and we were that. One lady, who I want to start by saying was always perfectly nice to me, had spend the whole of the previous night talking excitedly with one or two others about 'getting plastered', which makes me feel disapproving puritannical thoguhts that I hopefully hide from my face because...urgh...how can people older than me not have grown out of that kind of 'fun'. Her boyfriend came with her to the party and I had JUST ARRIVED (so the night was very young) and he was following her, feeling her bum as she walked and then ADJUSTING HIMSELF, so I naturally had to give them both an incredibly wide berth of 'awkward, apparently you like them caveman-style non-verbal knuckle-draggers'.

But yeah it was good and, I'm telling you, the lad who was the lead and is studying theatre I will be WATCHING THIS SPACE because I could genuinely see him going silver-screen famous in a few years.

Loads of people were all tearful and sad it was over, there was excessive hugging, which did make me feel like a souless git but I'm not at all sad it is over. We did it, it is the end of a job done well, I just feel pleased it has happened and at the same time happy to move on (and actually, you know, see my home other than to sleep for the first time in weeks).

So despite getting in at 1am and reading my library book till half past, I've been trying to be industrious today and enjoy Finding Home. We took Nanny shopping and I got stuff for work lunches this week, the I helped Auntie Irene with a job in her garden, finally put the cover back on the settee seat that has been off for an embarrasingly long time, and hoovered the settee, cut the grass and planted some things in the garden (also cleaned up a dead baby bird, put my hand in and then cleaned up cat poo in my vegetable patch and Something A Cat Had Buried In The Garden That Might Have Been Alive Once which I tried not to look at too closely. CATS! Every time I start to thaw about you you SHIT EVERYWHERE IN MY GARDEN and KILL THINGS. THIS IS NOT ENDEARING IT'S BLOODY AWFUL!)Oh, and wrote some letters that need posting. So, even though I had other jobs on my list, I don't feel like I've wasted the day.

I am seriously considering putting some sort of discreet alarm on my phone that reminds me to tidy or clean one thing every evening after tea. Except tomorrow because I have singing lessons.

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localfreak: avatar which I have used as mine since scarboard days 10 years ago (Default)
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