But it wasn't quite over, was it?

Well.

That was a hell of a thing.

First, a BIG thank you to everyone who came to see us at Dore, and supported us. NO THANK YOU to Mr Rain, who decided to force us into the Church Hall.

We then had to navigate: Setting up a stage in 60 minutes (which was VERY impressively done, we even had a balcony!), relative lack of space for changing and hairdressing, dealing with a smaller stage with different exits (I goofed on that one, thanks Andy and Nigel for rescuing it. I did notice.), tap dancers rehearsing (which surely could be heard on stage, if not in the audience) and council meetings being held in one of the larger rooms.

That said, I'd like to thank Mrs C for doing everything she could to make it as smooth as possible. It's thanks to her that we had an hour to set up the stage, rather than 15 minutes, as I understand we sometimes have in the past.

Alison did *not* have a breakdown, although it was touch-and-go at times. It was fun, hot, exhausting, and worth it.

Next play is ..... dum, dum, dum .... "The Importance of Being Earnest." I'm not in this one, but I saw some of the auditions. The play is funny, and we have so many great actors and actresses in the Company the director was spoiled for choice. It's certain to be hilarious. I can hardly wait.

... and the curtain closes.

Well, last night was the final performance at the Drama Studio. The get-out was full of the usual chaos and teamwork and the party was just wonderful.

And I'm sad.

John summed it up perfectly with his 'speech' last night. The best part about The Company is the camaraderie, friendship, and teamwork.

And I'm going to miss it. More than I thought I would.
Don't get me wrong, it will be nice to get my life back and (as Emma said) have actual meals in the evening instead of whatever I can manage on the way to rehearsal/performance. But what a hole it's going to leave in my heart and life. I'm very thankful that we still have Dore to go, so it's not as abrupt an end as it could have been.

To everyone in the cast and crew, and especially our director Alison, thank you. Thank you for three months that I will treasure the memory of forever.

And I'll probably be quoting until my dying day. My heart? By all the little gods of love I swear it, I leave it with you.

Building up to opening night

Sorry it has been a bit quiet round here, the last fortnight of rehearsals is where everyone really cranks up the energy to polish everything ready for this week.
Yesterday was spent in the theatre building the set, which is a combination of the tedium of painting huge amounts of rostra that form the raised areas of the set and some more ingenious constructions which I won't tell you about now so as not to ruin the surprise ;-)
Tonight we will be saying lines in the theatre for the first time, it won't be an acting rehearsal, but the technical which is there to ensure that lighting, entrances, sound queues, scene changes, costumes etc, ad nauseum, work. This is the most frustrating session for everyone, the actors have to stand around or skip parts of their scenes, the techies, no matter how good they are will be too early or too late on cues, the stage crew will find that the changes as written don't work and the director is just getting wound up.
Tommorrow is the dress rehearsal, everyone says that the dress should be run as if it is a real performance, but personally I can never get quite into that frame of mind, the sheer terror doesn't quite hit. However in all other respects it is a real show and unless things go utterly fubar it shouldn't stop and it is the point where the doctrine that you are on your own really digs in. The company runs without a prompt, it is up to everyone to do their best to get a friend out of a hole if they forget a line, miss a cue or get stuck in a loop. One of the hardest things to change is binning the "sorries" that pepper rehearsals in the studios, they are the worst thing you can do on stage if you haven't got out of the habit by the dress you are real trouble.

Scantily clad and slightly nervous...

Although not about being scantily clad (and when I say scantily clad I mean the closest you'll get to naked Amy onstage is Amy in a slip which is quite frankly the size of my duvet cover!). I was chatting to my mum this morning (having made a fleeting trip to my hometown for a rehearsal for another play-there are many plays....) and saying how we were bringing our costumes to rehearsals tonight and how we need to practice getting changed and then it hit me. Today is the 3rd. We go on on the 18th. Thats 15 days....just over two weeks.....and for me, not long enough!!! I can barely find the cues for when I pipe up (but it is getting there) but getting changed into my gypsy outfit onstage is quite difficult/scary. Not least because I have to catch someone between lines to unzip my dress to begin the process!!! Thankfully I can see a time when it will all run smoothly (hopefully that time will come BEFORE opening night). I kept getting notes about being louder-sorry-LOUDER! tonight-must shout more! I SHALL make my lines heard!!! That "Nay have a care" line is perpetually swallowed up by (fantastic) giggling from the sisters no matter how hard I try to shout it!! I'll just pray I get hit with a case of "fantastic-vocal-chord-syndrome" on the night. Also praying I don't fall over my skirt and that the stage lights in the Drama Studio don't shine through my slip when in a state of undress.........note to self, wear a vest....

Was that really a smile?

I think it was! In fact I am sure I saw the director smiling at points during rehearsals this week.

I am not claiming we are there, that would be foolish, we are not yet at the point where I would be happy to show it to an audience. Although that said at this point we do tend to start getting people who haven't seen it up to this point as the backstage and technical crew turn up to familiarise themselves with the play. So there is a certain amount of true performance creeping in.

What I think caused Alison to smile is that we are over the bump and running towards the finish line, prompting is scant and far between (and will be non-existant come the performances, we fly solo so to speak) and the cast are beginning to enjoy themselves looking for places where a grin or a noise adds to their part.

The polish is being applied and we really do appear to have a corker; I might even have come to learn to not hate the fact, that the last epic scene kicks off with a soliloquy, that I have to deliver in a pair of lacy drawers.

"The impudent'st young thing in nature..."

There. I can write it, but I can't say it.

And we've got to that phase of rehearsals now. The bit where we've all just learnt our lines and are struggling to get them said properly and at the right time. The bit where the Drama Studio locks us out of our rehearsal room (AGAIN), but fortunately left another door unlocked. The bit where we wonder whether we'll actual ever have a rehearsal with a complete cast.

But it will all come right, and it is good to see everyone working so hard. It will be good.

Shaping up

Well, four weeks to go, and things are beginning to come together. Phew!

Last night was the first sequential run of scenes (the first four) and it does really help being able to grasp the proper flow of things.

There were pauses and stumbling of course, mostly due to (nearly!) all of us now running sans script, but I think the heart of the play is definitely beginning to beat. Even if it does need a bit of CPR now and then.. (I nearly said mouth to mouth, but there's already more than enough of that between Tony and me!)

Oh, and acting in a mask and with my hair loose is definitely a whole new level to tackle..

"...and then jump on the bed..."

"...and kick him in the face".

Not really what you were expecting eh? Well it's that kind of play. There is, I hasten to add, the other kind of jumping on beds, just to make it clear for those that would otherwise be disappointed. But honestly, it's OK to bring your elderly relatives to it.

Well it's starting to get hot now, and we're at the stage where we wonder why we always end up doing a costume drama, preferably with lots of energetic running around, in the summer. I mean I'm not complaining but couldn't we just, for once, do something that involves chilling out in T-shirts...

It all brings back traumatic memories of the Zenda incident. Well, traumatic for Jenny certainly...

I like being eponymous...

...but I also like headbutts, reverse headbutts, a kick to the groin and a swordhilt to the face. To qualify this I need to add I like administering, rather than receiving them.

The Company loves a good fight scene, and there's something about a bit of mindless violence that brings out the best in an actor. I think it's the combination of concentration, exertion and sheer bloody terror that does it. That and the swords.

And learning fight scenes, especially with a whole bunch of people cramped together on a small stage, swords swinging and bodies flying, can be exhilarating as well as terrifying. When it works well it's like a well-oiled machine delivering spills and thrills for the audience.

I like it!

I insist only on manly hugs...

...from men obviously. Thigh slapping is permitted, as long as it is your own thigh. Quaffing is good although you must not get any drink on your costume. Shouting "Now sir, you die" and drawing your sword is good on the surface but usually leads to your demise as your opponent quips "No, YOU die". Saying "Egad", "Faith" and "Gadzooks" is considered normal.

So since we're doing a swashbuckler I thought it was name a cliche time. What are your favourite swashbuckler cliches (and can we get them into the play)?