A Spiritual Feeling, Not a Lack of Confidence

I was so hopeful that I would get cast for the newest OBT show. The assistant director really liked me, said we had a connection. I started to really see myself being in that show.
Today, I stopped having that feeling. I wondered if I was just losing confidence. But no, it just didn't feel right. I didn't audition in front of the director, and I just *knew* he wouldn't cast someone he hadn't seen for himself.
I can say I'm sorry about this, but there are many reasons why this is perfectly okay, too. I was worried about traveling to SLC in bad weather, missing my family during the holidays, unsure that I can handle a big lead right now.
And our plans to move ahead with making Edward Bloor's novel Story Time into a musical are moving forward steadily.
I feel very strongly that God is in control of my theater career. I know that sounds strange, but it's true.
I also want to get myself into better shape, before the winter really is here.
I'm not making excuses. I feel peace and no sorrow. This is what it's like to be spiritually connected. It is wonderful.
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Impossible Mystery--Opening Night

I made up my mind last night that I was going to be very low key today. For me, organizing things, cleaning house, baking things helps. I get all domestic when I need to chill out. I like order and my house is a good place to start.

So today I made a starter for sourdough bread. At first I thought I could just bake the bread today and when I found out it had to sit for a whole night I was a little bummed. But then I pulled out my box of peaches and made 8 pints of jam. There. How's that for creativity and domesticity?

I walked my dogs in sprinkling weather. I avoided doing any business, though I could have done a few things. I didn't want to be muddled. After last night's mess, I knew I needed to stay focused on being calm and controlled, not harried and complicated. I got things ready for the show--namely, my own pair of black pants to wear under my Japanese robe when I play Oba San. Last night, the pants that came with my costume fell down to my hips. Oba San started looking suspiciously gang banger. Not a good look!

I felt fuzzy--PTSD fuzzy. Opening night for Hairspray I had felt horrible--like I was walking on marshmallows. I was so worried I'd puke onstage. Not that I felt sick. I think I was just imagining the very worst thing that could happen to a person in front of hundreds of people, and that would be puking. I realized by Night Two of Hairspray that a little Xanax takes the panic of barfing right away. So tonight, when I started feeling all floaty and fuzzy, I took some Xanax. It didn't help. I took more. (And be clear here--my doses are miniscule bits off of a pill. I am not downing pill after pill.)

I went to pick up the cookies Macey's donated (adorable sugar cookies with white frosting and a question mark), came home, put on my make up including false eyelashes. (I love false eyelashes.) I toyed with the idea of trying to 40s up my hair, but the fuzzy feeling persisted. Caden went through my lines with me AGAIN, and off we went to opening night.

By the time I got to the theater, I started feeling normal. I started looking forward to the performance. Here's what happened:

1. I broke the glass I was holding in the Highlight Club scene. This is after another glass fell off one of the table and smashed, with sound effects from behind the curtain. My glass only went into two pieces and Caden helped me rectify it. Note to self: Don't pick up anything that is glass. 
2. I blew one line in the Japanese scene. I fixed it but it flustered me slightly. Then I had to fix part of the whole scene because the lead in that scene keeps dropping lines. I got a little freaked and in my head it was like (really, this is what it felt like) Gah--what do I do now? I don't know that I fixed it perfectly, but I did fix it and didn't think I could do that. Yeah me!
3. I am supposed to bang a big metal gong. I banged it so hard the banger thing came off of the string it was tied to. No I didn't technically break it, but it was a little freaky that I had been in two scenes and two things broke. 
4. The fireplace in the mansion scene fell over. I had nothing to do with it! So ha. Things happen to other people, too! I guess it wasn't tragic as it's a scene that has ghosts. Maybe the audience thought the ghosts were supposed to knock over the fireplace.
5. My final scene that has me as an English Society lady, Lady Chattaway, is my favorite scene and one I completely screwed up last night. But--drum roll--tonight it was flawless! And super fun! I heard afterward that the audience, all 20 or so people, really liked we three silly ladies.

I consider this a successful opening night. A few more things:

1. There are no divas in this show. This makes the energy so much more level, pleasurable, and consistent. There is no drama. 
2. Everyone is working hard in this show. Though it doesn't seem like work, I can feel it. Like we are all part of a whole, working for one purpose. I guess that goes back to the lack of diva thing. We all want the same thing--a good show.
3. Though I have laughingly said in the past few weeks, I don't care what happens in the show as long as I look good, that wasn't me being a diva. What I meant was, please God, don't let me look like an ass. This has now changed to, please, let me contribute to and not detract from a good production.

I am sad that we only have two more shows because I think all the bugs will be worked out by the time our run is over. That being said, I think this is a lovely, successful, sincere beginning to a group that plans on putting on shows in the month of October every year during Spanish Fork's Harvest Moon Hurrah celebration. How honored I am to be a part of this!

http://www.spanishfork.org/dept/parkrec/arts/hurrah.php
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The Delicate Balance in the Small Pond

As I jump into the theater world in Utah with both feet and no water wings to keep me afloat, I am finding out that swimming around here can be a dangerous or a marvelous thing. Sometimes both. The people I have gotten to know overlap. Which is good and bad and just plain weird sometimes.

• Oh, you directed that show and now you're assistant director of the show I'm auditioning for and you worked with the person who was the star of my last show? Well, she and I were good friends. (Thinking: I think we were good friends. Were we? If so, maybe she'll put in a good word for me. If not, crap!) 
• Oh, you didn't know I reviewed that show? Yep, that was me. Yes, it was very good. (Thinking: Thank the Lord it was a show I praised.) 
• Oh, you will help me get that audition? Wow, you are such a pal. (Thinking: Am I good enough to warrant him going out on a limb for me?) 
• Oh, you like that director? Well, we'll never work for that company again. And so-and-so and this person and that guy will never work there again either! (Thinking: How can I stay friends with everyone when clearly it could become the 'whose side are you on?' thing. I want to get roles on my own merit and not be picked over because I'm friends with this or that person. Of course, I also want to get cast because, as friends, they know I can do the job. Oy!)

As a compulsive blurter, I know I've already stepped on some toes. 

Lesson Learned: Open your mouth and project like hell when you're onstage. Offstage, keep your yap shut. The latter will be a bigger challenge for me than doing the acting stuff.

Oy.

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Impossible Mystery--6--The Gossip Circle Rocks!

I wore my hat, my glasses @ the end of my nose, my gloves, and hung my handbag over my shoulder. This was my nod to Lady Chattaway tonight. It's surprising how important getting used to costumes and props is. I wore my glasses for Prudy for a month before they really felt natural.

The two women I play in the Gossip Circle with, Kendra and Bonnie, are wonderful. We are very silly, but slightly competitive, and it is So. Much. Fun.

I still don't have my lines memorized and left my script at rehearsal. Crap. Other than that, a total pleasure, though several of the people in the scene are rushing their lines. Why does this happen so often? Slow, loud, expressive! Say it with me over and over again:  Slow, loud, expressive. Ad infinitum.

I also was able to get a teenager friend of ours, Corena, not just one part in the play, but FOUR! She is a ninja, a maid named Mary (with a few lines--Speak up Corena! (she's kind of quiet)), in the Highlight Club scene, and as a policeman. My son Caden is going to do tech and play a policeman, but can't make it to the final night.

"Impossible Mystery" is just shaping up to be such a pleasure.

Yeah theater!

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Character Development--1

I remember the first time I really realized that it took time to really develop your character for a performance. I was the lead in a Tennessee William's one-act called "Twenty-Seven Wagons Full of Cotton." I played Flora. Here's Wikipedia's summary about the show: 

27 Wagons Full of Cotton

27 Wagons Full of Cotton is a 1946 one-act that Williams referred to as "a Mississippi Delta comedy." In it, Jake, a middle-aged, shady cotton gin owner burns down the mill of Silva Vicarro, a rival in the cotton business. His rival, who knows what happened but cannot prove it, seeks revenge by seducing Jake's young, frail, delicate wife, Flora. Elia Kazan's controversial 1956 movie Baby Doll was based on this play. Incidentally, the play's title is written as a line of trochaic pentameter (e.g. TWENty SEVen WAGons FULL of COTTon).

I loved playing Flora, after I spent hours talking to the guys who played Jake and Silva, trying to figure out how this all could work onstage.  BRAGGING MOMENT: When I auditioned for the part, which was kind of a cattle call for all the student directors for their final project, my director told me she was so happy to have gotten me. All the directors wanted me. (Blushing but not really...)

I admit, I spent so much time on talking to the director and the other two actors in the play that I didn't learn my lines well enough and had one horrible moment in one of the performances where I couldn't get out. It was during the fight/seduction scene and back and forth Silva and I went until I could remember the line that would pull us back on track. Ugh. I remember the total panic about that, right there onstage, being hauled back and forth. Yipes times infinity. (You'd think I'd be better about learning my lines after that, wouldn't you? <sigh>)

The last scene of that play I come out with black and blue marks that I frantically put on backstage to look like the bruises Silva gave me. If you want to do this, just to tell you, it's blue and purple eyeshadow covered with blush. It looks very cool from the audience, or so I was told.

There are whole courses on character development, books about it, and tons of info about it on the net. Essentially, it is essential. Nice redundancy on my part, yeah? I will speak on this further, but for now, I want to say that I appreciate the directors and fellow actors I've worked with who've encouraged me to look into myself and find the character I'm playing. By doing this, when I'm onstage, I don't just stand there like a lump. I respond with actions, facial expressions, even with a spiritual connection, it seems to me, with the others onstage with me.

Keep playing! Play your part until it is you.

The Impossible Mystery--1--The Rehearsal that Wasn't ~OR~ Costume Fun!

I thought it was my night for rehearsal. I was sweating a little because I hadn't really even looked at my script. I play two speaking roles and am in one scene as Ensemble.

Roles:
Oba San--old, crotchety, mostly deaf Japanese grandmother
Lady Chattway--English society matron, presumably a widow, middle-aged, flighty and giggly
Ensemble in the Highlight Club scene--a speakeasy-type joint. I am a--what? Still figuring that one out.

So I walk into the backyard we rehearse in on Tuesday nights, smile on face, script on clipboard in hand.

Cami (director): What are you doing here, Jennifer?
Me (chump): I thought we were doing the Japanese scene.
Other actress in show: That's next week.
Anna (mentor, costumer, Cami's mother and owner of backyard): It's okay. We'll get you costumed.
Me (relieved): Well then, I'm here spreading love! (a little arm sweeping and curtsy)
Anna (kindly, as is her wont): We can always use more love!

I was then ushered to Anna's World of Wonder costume shed. Oh my goodness! Rack upon rack of clothes, necklaces on hooks, hats and bags on shelves, bins of glasses. I'm not even much of a girly girl, but hey, this was heaven.

Anna started holding dresses up in front of me: Oh, this will be darling for the Highlight Club scene. Isn't this cute?
I climb into peach dress and cape. It is adorable. She hands me a brightly flowered little bag and puts a little hat on my head--straw with ribbon and flowers, and we traipse out to Cami, who smiles, nods (meaning yes, that costume will work) and goes back to directing. I sweep back to the shed. One must always sweepingly walk when one wears a floor-length cape.
Anna: We have decided to go all out with the costumes--color and fun.
Me (thinking): No kidding! I am adorable! (cartwheeling in my head)


The next few outfits were either too small or not right. Anna told me not to get discouraged. I was far from that. I was playing dress up. This outfit doesn't work? Well, I'll try another. There are hundreds to choose from.

I went home to get a very cute, authentic velvet jacket that belonged to my mother. It will be Lady Chattaway's jacket. Anna found me a perfect blouse, checking to make sure it was just the right shade of beige, and we found a skirt that was okay. (Later, I found a better skirt in my own closet. Anna told me as long as it had flowers on it, it'd be great. The skirt is flowered, black, red, and yes, the right shade of beige, with a flouncy hem. As Anna would say: Darling!)

To go with the skirt, jacket, and blouse, Anna dug around and found me The Cutest Hat in the World. I can't describe it (it's black and cloth, but that says little about the cuteness factor) but pictures will come during the run of the show. I have some earrings that will go with the whole outfit. I am going to be the most delightful English Society Matron ever!

Then, Oba San's outfit. I had pictured some frumpy black or gray bathrobe. No! I have a multi-colored poncho to the floor that will look amazing with one of those Japanese black cumberbun belt thingies (still to be procured.) I will wear a Chinese pointy-on-the-top straw hat (still being found and yeah, it isn't authentic--what-ev-uh). I have decided to wear a purple, red, or green (if I can find it) scarf over my hair under the hat so my blonde hair won't give me away as me. (Old deaf grandmas aren't platinum blondes.) Anna found me some silky black pants to go under the silky dress thingie. It is really, really colorful. Rock on, Oba San!

I am 90% set. I am 100% excited.

Playing dress up with Anna is the most fun I've had in a long time!

Keep playing! And if possible, do it in style!

First Readthrough of The Impossible Mystery

Years ago, I was given the remarkable opportunity to work with the Grande Dame of Spanish  Fork Children's Theater--Anna Murdock. I volunteered as a parent helper while Spanish Fork Youth Theater put on "Narnia". For several seasons, I was able to actually work for Anna, for pay, as one of her drama teachers. My son was in each of her shows, and during one summer show, even my husband was hired to teach 80 kids how to act.

Anna retired, so my gig as a teacher was over. But we've remained friends, and she has watched over my son's progress in shows as if she were his own grandma. She gave him his first part (a Dwarf in Narnia) and has encouraged Caden's persistence and talent in drama. I owe a lot to Anna.

Her daughter Cami wrote a fun murder mystery a few years ago and I directed one scene of it--the Mansion scene, set in England, in which a bunch of silly society ladies twitter and gossip and giggle (and then the murder is eventually solved. There's more to it than this, of course.) I directed the Mansion scene with teenagers as the gossips. And now I am one! I'm Lady Chattaway.

We had our first read through tonight in Anna's wonderland backyard. Some of the cast I know, some I don't. I admit, some of the people in the show are folks I, ahem, have had issues with. This should be really interesting.

Which brings me to the topic that keeps swirling around in my blogs--the politics of theater. There is apparently no smaller world than the arena of local community theater. Because Anna has been doing this for 40+ years, she knows everyone. And because she is the nicest, kindest, most guileless person in the world, she sees everyone for how she wants to see them. She sees me this way, too. As a perfect person.

I admit--I'm freaked out. Okay, I am. I'm humbled that Anna thinks so well of me. But I admit it freely, I have burned bridge, at least really torched them badly. Those bridges are now appearing in this show with the ushering in of certain cast members who I've--um--been unhappy with and said so. Or, in the case of one woman, I reviewed the show she was in and I was honest about it. (And that is the subject of a whole other blog sometime soon). I will need to somehow pull these bridges from the ashes and reconstruct them.

Lesson for the day--be as nice as you can to everyone in your small theater world, even those people who you think aren't good teachers in a youth drama program. Someday you may be in a show with them.

Here's me, signing off. But to all of you, keep playing!