sesquipedaliatic: Crazy.  We has it. (Default)
I saw Black Watch for the second time tonight (saw it Sunday, and then again today. Will likely see it at least once more while it's here. Yes, it's that good). Tonight's show was much stronger than Sunday's; it seems the cast settled into their physicality more tonight, and were far more comfortable in their space. We're the production stop for the tour, so this is the first time they've performed in an unfamiliar space, and they're working out the kinks still (that's what a production stop is for!). Sunday was the end of their first week of performances, but here at the start of week two, everything is MUCH smoother.

When I saw the show on Sunday, I was so absorbed in the technical elements that I didn't engage particularly well with the people on stage. Don't get me wrong; I saw the show again tonight specifically because I loved it so much the first go 'round. I knew about "Fashion" before I saw the show, but was still astonished by what amounts to a 2 minute quick change sequence--performed entirely by actors, with continuous monologue by the actor being changed--that tells the history of the Scottish military, and it was just as spectacular as I could have hoped. On Sunday, I noticed the smoothness of quick changes (both on and off stage) and the variety of sound sources. Tonight, I noticed one man's hand shake during the Letter's Home section and another man press his fingertips to his dead comrade's head before lifting his body.

My very favorite thing to see on a stage is people physically interacting, and Black Watch gives me everything I could possibly want and more. "Ten Second Fights" and "Parade" both left me with fingernail-shaped indents in my arms. They're both such intense and overwhelming sequences that I had to hold on to something. That intensity is something I've only every experienced in live theatre. I'm overwhelmed with Feelings, but it's so much more than getting flaily over, well, any other media. I can feel my heart rate kick up and my breathing get shallow. I can feel the adrenalin and endorphins in the way my hands shake even as I clutch my chair, or arms, or neighbor. I leave the theatre with knuckles bruised from where I've bitten them, unaware of what I'm doing but desperate for some sort of outlet. Even writing this has made my heart beat faster.

Blaaaarg. As is so often the case with trying to put theatre-based emotions into words, I suspect I'm just talking in circles here. And so, to bed.
sesquipedaliatic: Crazy.  We has it. (Default)
I've gone without posting for so long that I barely know what to say. And so, a list!

5 Things That Make Me Smile

1. DC! I love every part of this city, from its perpetually delayed red line to its time vortex of museums to the fact that it keeps offering me work.

2. The Avengers, which I HAVE NOT seen yet (but will hopefully manage on Friday). The buzz and the flailing on LJ/Twitter/Tumblr have made me oh so happy, even as I remain unspoiled for the actual movie. Pretty people. Pretty people being happy at each other!

3. The Unusuals; I inhaled all 10 eps of in a mere 2 days. It's not a perfect show by any means, but the chemistry between cast members is FANTASTIC. Jeremy Renner and Amber Tamblyn are awesome together, and it's always a pleasure to watch an actualfax platonic relationship develop. Both characters are imperfect but relentlessly good people, and I want to give them hugs and make them happy forever.

4. Closing a show last weekend, teching a show next weekend, and seeing as much theatre as I can manage in the intervening days. So far: 39 Steps. Plans to see Taming of the Shrew and maybe 1776 if I can manage it.

5. This song from The Guild, which I've been headbanging around my room to for the last 48 hours:
sesquipedaliatic: Crazy.  We has it. (Default)
My work contract is up in just a few days, which means my life is full of frantic packing (... or not. *shiftyeyes*) and saying goodbye to the people I've lived and worked with for the last 9 months. At the moment, I don't have either the brainpower or the emotional wherewithal to talk about the strange and constant "trust these people with your life and now NEVER SEE THEM AGAIN" whiplash that is theatrical employment, but my head is filled with it. My room is currently far less packed than it should be, and I have 4 shows in 2 days, which suggests that my suitcase will remain unpacked until Monday. Hooray for preparedness.

I did a spectacularly terrible job at sending holiday cards last year, and am planning to remedy that this year. Care for a card? Comments are screened, so drop your address below. I cannot guarantee cards containing traditional holiday sentiments, but I most definitely can promise cards that make you smile.

Relatedly, I'm having lots of fun with this:



The relevant details, from the intro post: this is a stocking-stuffer fest. If you’d like to participate, just copy the following code, drop it into a new comment and let your stocking be stuffed! Icons, mini-mixes, new LJ friends, a cover for you awesome story, a recipe for oreo truffles, whatever your mini-Christmas wishes are. My comment is here, if you're curious. Wandering through the comments is a delightful explosion of fic recs, recipes, knitting patterns, and gifs. And it's only Nov 26th!
sesquipedaliatic: Crazy.  We has it. (Default)
My day, in three moments:

1- The smaller theatre's show (we have 2 stages, one giant opera house and one proscenium) opened today. Hooray! But now there's a post Opening Night Party party happening in my house. There is music. And yelling. And board games. And jumping? [I don't begrudge the partying in general, and also I live with 13 people so noise is a constant, but GNARRRR.]
ETA: Now they're playing DJ Earworm, and I can't deny the power of awesome mashups.

2- I burned my hand earlier, and it hurts and is puffy. I burned it by TURNING ON THE TAP. Because our tap water, when given the chance to warm up, is juuuuuuust shy of boiling. I KID YOU NOT. Folks took measurements last year, and it clocked in a around 190 Fahrenheit (boiling is 212). My shower, naturally, remains room temperature.

3- My father is here! Well, not here here. But he's in the same state as me! Tomorrow, I shall take him to my favorite brunch place and 2 of the 3 places of business I frequent in this town. Within walking distance of me (ie, not across the scary, pedestrian-unfriendly swing bridge) there are 7 businesses where I can exchange money for goods or services. One of those is the theatre, 2 are restaurants. There's an ice cream shop, a post office, a cheese shop, and a clothing shop for wealthy, colorblind retirees.
sesquipedaliatic: Crazy.  We has it. (Default)
I've said many times that the world of theatre (really, entertainment in general) is very strange. Our "normal" isn't.

For City of Angels, one of my responsibilities is the blood rig. A gun goes off, and there's a beautiful moment where one character stumbles backward and clutches her chest as a blood stain slowly appears then grows on her white dress. In order to make that awesome effect, we use a mechanical rig. In addition to getting the actress into the rig, I make the blood and clean the whole affair every show. (It's great fun; I love gore effects and volunteered be keeper as soon as I heard mention of the rig!) To fill the blood pack, I use a solution of Aged Reel Blood, water, dish soap (because we have to wash it out of clothes 8 times a week; liquid soap makes it washable AND thickens it), and a dash of green food coloring (for color, so the blood pops against her white dress even more). I mix up a few bottles of the stuff ever other week and fill the blood pack for every show. Neither process is particularly neat. In fact, I end up with blood all over my hands and arms if I'm not careful. Though it's washable, my skin absorbs die easily, so my fingers will remain stained pink until well after the show closes. The first time I made new blood, I sprayed too much water as I was cleaning, and ended up with what appeared to be arterial blood spatter across my face. Yaaaay gore!

A few days ago, I got out of the shower after using a new shampoo for the first time. Imagine my horror when I glanced down to see red blotches all the way up my arms. I had a moment of "OH NO HIVES!" followed by "Quick, rinse to get off whatever little bit of irritant is left!" in turn followed by "... oh. Blood stains. No need to panic." That definitely belongs on the list of Things Not Hear Outside the Entertainment Industry.

The baggies that hold the blood are actually shortened IV packs, since IV bags have this awesome self-healing gel that can be repeatedly pierced with a needle but won't leak. I also have a full-sized IV bag that I fill with warm water to clean the rig. The rig is electric, and the motor's got a good little buzz. So there's me at the sink with an IV bag full of warm water, a coil of medical tubing in my lap (warm with the water running through it), and a little motor buzzing happily.

Chances that a random bystander would see me and think I'm doing theatre things: slim.
Chances that same bystander would thing I'm doing porny, medical kinky things: VERY HIGH.
sesquipedaliatic: Crazy.  We has it. (Default)
I started an All Clear post this morning. The flood waters are down, the rain has stopped, the clean-up is mostly done. The rain this past weekend bumped the flood waters up again, so the dock was only 2 feet above the water level at low tide (usually it's about 6 feet above). But the parcking lot was dry.

When I got to the Opera House this afternoon, I found that the dock was underwater and the lower parking lot was flooded again. I laughed. What else could I do?

Everyone I interact with is exhausted as the end of our run creeps up. 2 weeks ago we had cancelled shows and hurricane crazyness. Last week we did 9 shows (one extra performance may not sound that bad, but trust me, IT IS): 2 on Wednesday, 2 on Thursday, 1 on Friday, 2 Saturday, and 2 Sunday. We have the same schedule this week. Next week is closing, so we have a wacky schedule. Instead of having both Monday and Tuesday off, we have a show on Tuesday, 2 on Wednesday, 2 on Thursday, 1 on Friday, and our final two shows on Saturday. After the second show on Saturday, we'll start strike/changeover. Sunday will be a day off, which much sleeping and relaxing. Monday we'll prep the theatre for tech and Tuesday we start tech for City of Angels. We have our first paying audience the following Friday.

If that sounds exhausting and overwhelming, that's 'cause it is. The last week and a half sucked pretty much all the life out of me, so I'm running on giggles and little else now. Luckily, so is everyone else. The dressing room has been filled with lots of goofing off, levels of insanity not previously reached with this cast.

I'm typing in circles now, and it's past 2am, so here. Have some music. I've been listening to this song lots (and now the rest of the album, since my terrible internet connection and iTunes finally cooperated enough to let me buy it!). The Gotye love is longstanding, but Kimbra is new to me and she is fierce! Together, they make much awesome.

sesquipedaliatic: Crazy.  We has it. (Default)
Earlier this week, we felt (well, lots of other people. I was out and about, and din't feel a thing) the East Coast earthquake.

We're also in the midst of bracing for angry Hurricane Irene to throw herself at us.

Yesterday, I saw a locust sitting on our screen. I looked at him (her?), he looked at me, and we both went our separate ways. Didn't think anything of it until someone made a "the world's ending! Signs of the apocalypse! Plagues!" sort of comment. Then I flailed QUITE A BIT.

Irene is still a few hours off. It's been grey, drizzly, and unbearably humid all day, but we got proper rain and our first big thunderclap around 11:30pm. I've charged and updated my Nook, located my flashlights, cooked/acquired non-perishable and cold-friends food, put up lots of water, and am as ready as I'll ever be. I now plan to sleep for a bit, then hopefully wake up to see the brunt of the storm. We're right on the CT river (the theatre butts up to the water, my house is less than half a mile away) so flooding is a pretty major concern.

Trees + wind + rain + river = a predicted mess.

Chances are pretty good that we'll lose power (though I expected it to be out already and we've still got active power, cell signal, AND internet--if you can call this crawly connection active). If that happens, I'll check in over here on the Twitters.
sesquipedaliatic: Neail Gaiman requests tea (Tea please!)
1. I spent the theatre weekend--Monday and Tuesday--in NYC visiting friends, people watching in Central Park, galavanting around Times Square (OH GOD OVERSTIMULATION), visiting the Harry Potter exhibit at Discovery, and remembering that I don't like NYC. I've only visited the city twice before, and as much as I love the things it contains, I've left with a general feeling of ickyness. Maybe it's the lack of sky. Maybe it's the constant crush of crabby people. Maybe it's something else. I find DC, Toronto, and Chicago all delightful. Why does NYC make my skin crawl after a mere 24 hours?

2. The Harry Potter exhibit at Discovery (mostly props and costumes complimented by an audio tour with designer interviews) was a blast. I think I have Things To Say about Harry Potter and the final movie and the impact it's had on my life, but not now. The Discovery exhibit was particularly enjoyable because I got to hear lots of designers in my industry talk about their passion for the work.

There was one robe, though I can't remember which, held together with size 4 black snaps. They're the same snaps we use for most of our quick rigging, and I've EASILY sewn a hundred of them the last three+ months. I recognized them instantly (a feat I'm alternately proud of and embarrassed by) and physically recoiled (definitely not proud, as I elbowed a nice woman behind me) and made the gals I was with laugh.

Aside from the PTSD (Post-Tech Snap Disorder), I loved seeing the same work I've been doing on display as artistry. I mean, mostly I think of my job as a craft. To me, the stitching and painting and distressing I do is less Art and more craft that assists in the making of Art. But this, from the bleach-stained Invisibility Cloak (INFINITELY more impressive post-CGI) to Lupin's scuffed shoes to the distressing on the trio's Prisoner of Azkaban Shrieking Shack costumes, this was definitely Art. If you'll forgive a touch of melodrama, the exhibit was Work!life and fan!life combined in an unexpected and magnificent and inspiring way.

3. I've been playing around with Google+ the last week or so. It's definitely shiny! I haven't futzed or read enough to get a feel for the bad things, yet. I love the integration with other Google products. Not only will Plus notify me via the nav bar (or whatever that top menu for bouncing between Gmail and Docs and Calendar and such is actually called), it'll let me interact and post to Plus WITHOUT LEAVING GMAIL. Haven't used it yet, but the hangout via webcam feature seems particularly fun as well.

Anybody need or want an invite?

Bonus: Yup, VERY GLAD to be in not-NYC now. Sad to leave peeps and be away from theatre, but GAAA THAT CITY.
sesquipedaliatic: Crazy.  We has it. (Default)
I've talked a bit to folks in real life about how frustrating and polarizing the queer-and-in-theatre community is (and part of me feels guilty for complaining because a) employed and b) no one's actively trying to harm me because of my sexuality but c) how do I live in a developed, mature country in which a) and b) are still serious problems?).

None of that mattered tonight, as we (collectively: cast and crew) watched the NY State Senate debate. Most (possibly all?) of this cast are New Yorkers, either by birth or by transplant. All had a vested interest in the outcome of the vote. For a little while, a show that's been dragging me down was both totally unimportant and the most vital thing I could be doing. That show meant I was connected to people, people who went onstage and tapped their hearts out then came offstage to crowd around those of us clutching phones and Twitter connections. Despite a clunky internet connection, we watched the live feed in the dressing room when cues allowed and cheered when the final amendment passed. Teary eyes and shaky hands were prevalent, myself thoroughly (and somewhat unexpectedly) included. Our show came down not long after the final vote was announced, and instead of "see you tomorrow" or "good night," everyone left to calls of "33-29!"

It's 3am, I'm sleepy, I've my last 2 shows and strike tomorrow. I suspect none of this makes sense, but my brain's too busy for sleep and writing is as good a method as any to quiet the buzzing.
sesquipedaliatic: Crazy.  We has it. (Default)
Facts:
1. I've spend a significant portion of today mainlining the entirety of Wonders of the Solar System and the first half of Wonders of the Universe.
2. That (and a bunch of other factors) make me miss science and learning new things.
3. I purchased a giant pack of glow-in-the-dark stars and dots to decorate my room.

Results:
I now have a not-quite-to-scale model of the solar system on my ceiling. It includes planets both major and dwarf as well as all the major moons. My ceiling light was in the perfect place and of relative size to be the sun, and the light spill on the newly added planets appears to be vaguely accurate. WIN! I'm also charting it all so I can remember which moon is which. (Also, thanks to Wonders I have learned that the moons of Jupiter and Saturn are the COOLEST THINGS EVER.)

Further questions:
I still have a TON of dots and stars left (I had 4 sheets and have used a little more than half of 1). What do I do with them? I'm contemplating a constellation or two on my walls, but don't really have a specific plan. What constellations should I use? I have a fair bit of ceiling space left too. Should I map out something else in currently-untouched corner? What should I map out?
sesquipedaliatic: Crazy.  We has it. (Default)
Despite what my subject line says, my week did in fact have transitions. The sun goes down, my eyelids follow suit, sleep happens: transition! This entry, however, is lacking.

On Monday, I went to a bris. There's a whole pile to say about that (about how I felt alternately more Jewish and less Jewish than I have in a while, how watching the Jewish grandparents was fascinating, and so forth) but it's not really the point right now. In addition to the circumcision part, the bris is a celebration of life. It signifies that the baby has been alive for 8 days (and is thus more likely to stay alive). For various reasons, this bris was particularly joyful. Despite the strange notes of religious angst, the whole thing felt like a great big "hooray for life!" celebration.

I saw the oh-so-beautiful stage production of The Lion King on Wednesday. The puppets/costumes/props (not so easy to draw a line between them) are downright amazing, and the guy who played Scar (hands down, my favorite character) was BRILLIANT. Seeing the stage show definitely proved that observing the Hamlet parallels in The Lion King makes it a far more engaging narrative. The show did have one obvious technical glitch (the sun, basically a GIANT venetian blind, got a bit tangled in itself during the final scene and hung awkwardly), which made my heart ache for the show. I could all but hear the headset conversation about whether it would fall mid-scene and which scenery bits needed to be adjusted to keep the actors safe. It wasn't a show I desperately wanted to see, and I'm SO VERY VERY glad I did.

The last two days have been spent mostly at home with family, because my uncle (Dad's brother) died early yesterday morning. Heart attack, completely unexpected. He lived quite close to us, so Dad has been dealing with all the strange requirements that come with a death. Funeral arrangements, travel for Utah-based family, that sort of thing. I spent part of my afternoon looking up cremation urn details like how to calculate the necessary size. I posted a rather bland request for hugs on Facebook and Twitter, and the unquestioning responses were lovely. Sure, I know there are people to support me when I need it, but a visceral reminder made quite the impact.

So to recap the week.

Monday: Celebration of birth.
Wedneaday: Viewing of The Lion King.
Thursday: Death of uncle.
Friday: HAVE BLOODY "CIRCLE OF LIFE" STUCK IN MY HEAD.

Gallows humor. I has it.
sesquipedaliatic: Crazy.  We has it. (Default)
This weekend was tech for my next, thoroughly wonderful show. I should be sleeping but instead I'm up editing cover letters to send to theatres because my "oh god my internship is up in 8 weeks what do I do next" panic attacks have been, well, attacking with greater frequency.

I've done so much in the last month, and I've started so many blog posts that never got finished. Notably, I've teched 2 shows, seen a BUNCH of theatre (including the positively brilliant One Man Lord of the Rings tonight which does exactly what it says on the tin), spent a long weekend at the American Library Association's annual conference and achieved many new books and author sitings, got a massage during which the therapist yelped multiple times when he made my shoulders and neck go crunch (turns out muscles aren't supposed to crackle), and sat for a sketch session with a painter friend (how to feel unexpectedly like a beautiful object in three easy steps).

None of those things have made it into proper posts (though I've been chewing on one about sitting for a couple weeks now if only so I can process the wacky things it did to my head). I don't feel like I'm that busy, but apparently I am.

I'm going to faceplant now.
sesquipedaliatic: Crazy.  We has it. (Default)
Tomorrow is the final performance of Triumph of Love. I haven't really processed that yet.

For someone who has had many of the same friends since 1st grade, the fleeting nature of theatre is sometimes really scary. In less than 24 hours, Triumph will be a collection of memories.

Part of me is looking forward to the time I'll have to myself. By working standard shop hours (10-6 Monday through Saturday) I'll have a chance to see more theatre in the community. I haven't seen anything other than my own show in either May or April, so I'm looking forward to remedying that.

My body is also tired. My back is sore from doing the hand laundry in an unfortunately low and deep sink. My head is tired of my ClearCom headset and the associated brain squeezing. And I have bruises in the shape of Hubert's heels on my knee thanks to the quickchange.

But.

This cast is amazing. The show is fantastic fun both to watch and to work. I have lots of quick and fast changes for lots of people (six out of seven cast members have at least one quick or fast change). I get to hang out in the traps and hand props up to an actor. I get to release spring-loaded poppies. I get to be regaled with stories from my actors' youths. And I get to watch this amazing show night after night.

I'm not ready to say goodbye!
sesquipedaliatic: Crazy.  We has it. (Default)
In a funny brain place tonight, most likely thanks to exhaustion.

We managed to get all the way through the show today with no major disasters, and the relief I felt as the lights came down at the final cue was physical. Tech hasn't been horribly stressful, but it hasn't exactly been smooth or easy, so getting through the show was a huge success.

My major quick change was passable at best, but was better than it has been. And my one stopping point (stupid hook and bar!) is fixable. At some point, I'll have the presence of mind to time the thing properly, but it's in the neighborhood of 30 seconds to go from princess to male servant (from overdress, underskirt with paniers, wig, and necklace into breeches, shirt, vest, jacket, ascot, and hat). Oh, and did I mention she's got lines during the change?

It is--as I've been saying lately--stupid fast. And I LOVE IT! Despite my minor hiccup, we still got a smattering of applause from the other costume people.

Wait. This what not what I started out writing about. I was going to write about that show. Ya know the one. It has a madman and his blue box. I was going to say something about my recent experience of re-watching the entirety of New Who with Pei and how the communal (and often continuous) viewing changed my interaction with the show and characters. And then I was going to say things about Matt Smith, and his ability to act the EVERY LOVING DAYLIGHTS out of a scene without standing around emoting.

But I've been on my feet and going going going for countless hours the last two weeks, and I'm close to fall-over-from-brainded stage, so instead, I'm gonna hit post without really going over what I've just written.

So there!
sesquipedaliatic: Crazy.  We has it. (Default)
Pin stabbings are an everyday fact of a costumer's life, just as paper cuts are unremarkable to a filing clerk. They hurt like hell for a minute, are irritating for an hour, and then disappear entirely.

We're not talking grievous bodily harm here.

Then there's the ouch-worthy work interruptions. Loose a fight with a rotary wheel, get attacked by buckram (stabity stabity!), run the machine needle into a finger.

Not bad enough to warrant medical attention, but painful enough to be, well, a pain.

I had one of those today.

Cut for grossness and childlike fascination )

In somewhat related news, my awesome bandaid is so awesome that I can work my touchpad with it.
sesquipedaliatic: Crazy.  We has it. (Default)
Hey, look! It's March!

I decided midway through last month that I was going to blog every day in March. But WHY, I can hear you thinking. Why do a crazy thing like that? Because I set myself the task and I'm bloody well going to follow through, that't why.

I get frustrated when I don't manage to follow through with something, whether a wee task promised for a friend or a moderate-sized overhaul of my own habits. It's one of those Things About Me That Bothers Me And Thus I Want To Improve (I don't have a whole list of those Things, nor am I obsessed with self-improvement, as this sentence implies).

So I decided the best way to fix that (and a convenient excuse to get back in the habit of writing) would be to set myself a challenging but not impossible task, then follow through with it. So. Blogging every day in March.

Unfortunately, this task is going to be a leeeeeetle bit harder than I expected when I first contemplated it a few weeks ago. Between now and then I've compiled my calendar for the month and WHOA. I have 3 days off. From March 1 through March 31, I have 3 days off.

*dies, preemptively*
sesquipedaliatic: Crazy.  We has it. (Default)
It's Christmas, at least by the clock, though I haven't properly gone to bed yet so it might actually still be Christmas Eve.

This is my first holiday season without family. Parents and sister were supposed to come visit last weekend but MASSIVE SNOW OF SNOWINESS prevented that, alas. And goodness knows I don't have enough time off to go home for the holidays. Matinée on the 24th and two shows on the 26th! None on Christmas itself, so yay for that!

The cast has been quite awesome about making sure the interns feel loved for the holidays. Today, our stage manager had us over for a tex-mex dinner. For reasons still unknown to me, we watched Crossroads while stuffing our faces.

Yes, that Crossroads. The one with Brittany Spears. My shame, let me show you it.

Then we watched She's the Man and I spent the ENTIRE movie trying to decide if it was actually a pretty crafty modernization of Twelfth Night or a horrific abomination of Shakespeare.

I'm still not sure.

AND THEN. I came home and one of my actors gave me a giant box of alpaca fibre from his parents' alpacas! SO SOFT AND CUDDLY AND OMG CANNOT WAIT TO SPIN IT!

And in case that wasn't enough awesome, we ate cookies and drank tea (well, I had tea. He had wine.) and watched "Jaynestown." Christmas eve, now with added Firefly.

When I left the kitchen for my room, I stood outside in the crisp, frigid air and laughed. I simply cannot imagine a better life than the one I lead right now.
sesquipedaliatic: Neail Gaiman requests tea (Tea please!)
My closet contains, not clothing, but the guts to the Historic's heating system. Cold outside means heat is on. Consequently, my rooms smells faintly of melty plastic. Odd.

Listening to The Mountain Goats (mostly Sunset Tree) during pre- and post-show work put me in a very strange brain place. "Pale Green Things" remains one of my favorite songs.

Lactose-free milk is a beatiful thing. Cereal is scrumptious, but cereal that doesn't give me a tummy ache is AWESOME. Thank you, store-brand-Lactaid.
sesquipedaliatic: Super smexy Ianto (Yes... yes)
Lots of things in my head tonight. I saw a really good show at Round House with a bunch of other interns-- a modern-ish adaptation of Dorian Grey. Among other things, they had a BEAUTIFUL double turntable that was incredibly smooth. and they used it SO WELL. There were two moments in particular that earned seat-flailing from me and vocal appreciation from the audience. Just turntable movements, mind you! And the car ride back was filled with the bubbly sort of "Oh, and that moment was AWESOME!" "Yeah, but I'm not sure how I feel about this choice." "Oh, it worked for me once this one thing happened; then it clicked" conversation that I love. There's one point in the show where Dorian says something to the effect of "art doesn't make people do things; it merely reflects our potential for committing evil acts" only he says it with more grace and passion. The line falls flat, as it should, because not one character or audience member (and at that point, not even Dorian) believes it, given the events of the play. But as I suspect it was intended to do, the line made me think about a show's responsibility to its audience as well as an audience's responsibility to a show. Nothing new or profound on either front, but mah brainz are spinnin'. Oh theatre, I love you.

And then I came back and drank wine with one of the artistic directors and heard her stories of touring shows in Germany before the wall came down. Oh theatre, I love you.

Before all this happened, I got to walk through the Night Must Fall set for the first time. My first walk through is one of those silly magical moments that always makes me giddy and eager for techs to start. Suddenly, everything theoretical is real. There's a real window! And look at the texture on the floor! And oh, wow, here's how that wonky entrance will work! Sure, the set's not done, costumes aren't finished, and I haven't seen a hint of lights or sound. But set walk through means we might just have a show.

(Say it with me now.) Oh theatre, I love you.
sesquipedaliatic: Crazy.  We has it. (Default)
I've been in Olney for exactly a week, and am completely exausted but loving it. I live quite literally above the theatre-- the Historic Theatre (the oldest of the 4 stages at Olney) has 5 rooms above the house, and that's where most of the interns live. It's quite awesome. Much of the building is original (so it smells of old wood and awesomeness), including the baskets that serve as shades for the house lights.

My room is about 4 steps away from the SM table/alcove, and I can hear whatever is happening on the stage. The Historic isn't the mainstage, but is used by the Olney traveling troupe for rehearsal as well as by rental groups. At the moment there's lots of yelling and pounding; I think it's Lord of the Flies rehearsal. Ah yes. There was "KILL THE PIG!!!" Lord of the Flies it is!

I spent most of yesterday distressing pieces for that show. The designer mentioned that she hates distressing, so I happily volunteered. I got to spend Saturday attacking a bunch of shirts and pants with spray paint, rocks, mud, and razor blades. So much fun! I've also done a bunch of tailoring for the next mainstage, Night Must Fall. I had a fantastic moment on Tuesday when the pattern I was working from required a French seam and I actually said out loud "Hey! I can do that 'cause I learned it in costume construction!"

Skilz. I haz dem.

The designer for Night Must Fall is Liz Covey, who (in addition to being one of the authors of The Costume Technician's Handbook) is an amazingly brilliant and tiny British woman who swears ALL THE TIME. She's definitely as much teacher as she is designer, and has already taken the time to answer my questions about her renderings and fabric choices and research and anything else I can think of.

There's lots more going through my head, about this industry and money and our environmental impact and shared creativity and being invisible and a gazillion other things. But I think I'm going to sleep.

G'night!

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October 2016

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