Originally posted on www.cbtheatre.org
The show is finally coming together. This week we had a full run of act one, and the following evening we ran act two. It’s the first time I’ve seen the show as a whole since four weeks ago when we sat down for our first reading of the script.
I always delight in this rediscovery of the text that happens in a rehearsal process. On the first rehearsal we take the show as a whole entity and put it into a time capsule. Then individual rehearsals take a micro-perspective of each scene to ensure its quality, but as an actor I’m only focused on the work for the few scenes I’m in. I don’t attend rehearsals otherwise, so I have no idea how the bits I’m not in have been evolving in my absence.
Because this is the first time we’ve strung the scenes together, we referred to this first full run as a “stumble through.” We realized there were scene transitions we hadn’t figured out yet, and there were props being worked in for the first time. For these and other reasons we gave ourselves permission to fail, knowing full well that part of the purpose of a stumble through is to discover which bits need work, which bits need polish, and what (if anything) needs a complete overhaul. I myself had a “whoops” moment when I realized I had neglected to memorize my cue lines as thoroughly as my own; this led to one particularly embarrassing experience when, as Kahless Future, I kept pointing too soon.
Naturally this show is different from any other in that our first read-though was in a different language from the one we’re now working in. Rehearsals are now wholly in Klingon (except for the Vulcan narrator whose dialogue is in English). By the time the show goes up there will be supertitles for the audience who aren’t fluent in Klingon, but for now my understanding of the scenes is dependent upon the stage pictures made by the director and the physical and emotional choices of the actors.
I delight in seeing how the show has come together since the last time I watched these people bring the text to life. There are so many exciting moments of “Oh yeah, THAT part!” as I recall bits of the script I’ve not seen in four weeks. Then I see my own scenes in context with the rest of the play, and I’m overjoyed to take part in the whole.
Likewise, I hope I’m impressing my castmates as much as they’re impressing me. At the first read-through we’re simply sitting around a table. When there’s a fight scene, ‘e’rIH HoD simply read aloud the stage directions and says, “Then there’s a fight scene.” As I discussed last week, this is a woefully inadequate description of what we’ve built since that night. I’m particularly proud of the pics going up on Facebook and Twitter.
I’m also pleased and impressed watching the play be done by people for whom I’m developing a deep affection. For the last three years I was in shows with schoolmates, so I had already known them and what to expect from everyone. By contrast, the first day of this rehearsal was spent desperately trying to memorize everyone’s names. We were strangers joined by our art and our fandom. In the intervening weeks I’ve started to get to know these people on a personal and individual level, and my heart is beginning to swell. We’re becoming friends as well as comrades-in-art, and I love watching my new friends entertain me.
There are still three more weeks to bring this show together, so there are yet more changes and tweaks that will arise as we stack these building blocks and watch the structure stand. But now we know the shape of things to come. We’ve been wrapping our brains around the material, our lips around the language, and our bodies around each other’s fists. I’m more confident than ever that what we’re building is exciting and moving and beautiful.
Chris was right. This show affects lives.
No comments:
Post a Comment