01 July, 2005
On the steps on the Palace...
Happy July!
Our first week in this amazing theatre, absolutely huge, ornate, glorious and beautiful. Grey lacquered cherubs line the dress and grand circles. 2,000 seats, 4 levels, state-of-the-art sound (you can whisper and it is heard!), a revolving stage, and an amazing projected set. It is so utterly overwhelming. But it is feeling more natural, I just has to convince myself I belong here... in fact, if I wasn't here right now people would be looking for me....
Lovely Dean Chisnall (also straight out of drama school) and I, were sharing our awe. So what if we are green! We have a right to our first moments as professionals on the actual stage! It was marvelous.
I feel myself becoming more confident with each bit we go over in the space, and all the backstage labyrinthine madness is slowly starting to make sense. Yet... I think Ruthie, Michael, Damian and myself feel THE OPENING approaching, and simply do not feel ready for paying punters in the least.
I feel vocally prepared. Only the tiniest bit nervous about The Finale with Michael... it feels under-rehearsed, lacking in the "muscle" required for total confidence. Ruthie calls this "bruising it in" to the voice. I know what she means. You need to sing it every day, more than once, possibly overdo it, find the places you are going to be need to utilize every day, work them up to the desired standard. That way when it comes to delivering 8 times a week, your voice is strong and the technique is in place to cope with any variations (illness, exhaustion, etc).
We had one very public FIRST Confrontation rehearsal in Soho Laundry: having to learn the blocking (without the very necessary revolve), discover the moments and motivations, as well as vocally deliver in front of all the creatives (including Trevor) as well as the entire company. It was very uncomfortable. Eventually one has to switch off to everything but the given circumstances and the presence of Trevor, Michael and myself. Who cares what everyone else thinks, it has to get done! And if it didn't get done that day... well, it wasn't going to get done at all.
I am certain it will all become crystal clear in time.
Also, so much fine technical detail to remember. Two microphones, the wig, the piano, the projections, the revolve. I also have 11 costumes, and every single change except for the first one is a quick change. They all have to be rehearsed within an inch of their life. Helen. Wonderful dresser Helen has been an angel and very very patient and helpful. We will get it!
I am writing it all down.
But the great thing is, I am learning it all from the top. This is how it is DONE at it's best. And though the learning curve is high, everything else after this experience will seem easy. It seems to be in the stars that I learn most of my lessons this way. It is no bad thing, even if it causes momentary discomfort.
Have had some lovely chats with Anthony and Edward lately. Edward is such a hoot, I want to be his niece! He was telling me about his dream the other night: the grey cherubs from the theatre came to him and said "New Cast is awfully good, eh?"
I have only recently realized my life has suddenly been flooded with a new cast of characters.
And 22 years old tomorrow.
Mom arrives for a big visit. She will attend my Graduation in Glasgow for me, and then back to London for the opening.
What a Birthday Delight, the happiest in a very long time...
Labels:
London,
The Woman in White,
Theatre,
West End
Laura
Laura is the face in the misty light
Footsteps that you hear down the hall
The laugh that floats on a summer night
That you can never quite recall
And you see Laura on a train that is passing through
Those eyes, how familiar they seem
She gave your very first kiss to you
That was Laura, but she's only a dream...
Footsteps that you hear down the hall
The laugh that floats on a summer night
That you can never quite recall
And you see Laura on a train that is passing through
Those eyes, how familiar they seem
She gave your very first kiss to you
That was Laura, but she's only a dream...
Labels:
The Woman in White
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