Enter Stage Right
Diary of an actor at the Stratford Festival
By Laura Condlln June 3, 2005
Day 2
First order of business — coffee. Second — a costume fitting.
Down I go through the maze that is the Festival Theatre building, past the prop shop, boots and shoes, the millinery, the dye room and a storage room that holds the most pairs of panty hose I’ve ever seen. Eventually, I find myself in the fitting rooms.
This morning I have a fitting for The Lark by Jean Anouilh (adapted by Lillian Hellman), which is the third play I have been contracted to appear in this season. The Tempest and As You Like It, both by William Shakespeare, have been rehearsing since March and both open this week, and The Lark — which we call a “late opener” — doesn’t even start rehearsal until next week, and opens in August.
Today, I get my first glimpse of the world of this play about Joan of Arc. I play Joan’s mother, and my costume sketch shows a simple European peasant woman. It’s interesting, the information you receive at your fittings. The theatre is so big, and has so much going on that much is decided and completed ahead of time. So you can walk into a fitting and discover a great deal about your character because of the choices that have been made for you, before you even start rehearsing.
I think this can be both helpful and hindering — it depends. Today, it’s helpful. I look in the mirror and immediately get a vision of who this woman is. I feel older, a bit tired — which one could argue might have something to do with the party last night — and my shoulders begin to cave in slightly because of the cut under the arms. They ask me to do some “apron acting” to decide on the length of the hem and the dress, and presto — instant character. Joan’s mamma is born.
I check the time and see that I have fifteen minutes before I switch hats and go to the As You Like It rehearsal. Perfect. Just enough time for coffee No. 2. This time I go up through the maze and find myself in Rehearsal Hall No. 1, a room named after Tyrone Guthrie, the first artistic director of the festival. For rehearsal purposes, there is a mock-up of the stage in this room, but today, the floor is covered with a large circle of chairs. Most of my fellow cast mates are already seated when I arrive, so I slip in between two friends and say a quick hello.
Antoni Cimolino, our director, greets everyone and begins to give us notes from our last preview. He emphasizes that in a comedy, we can never afford to let the audience get ahead of us. He stresses how we must all focus on keeping the dialogue and the story moving forward, and it is for this purpose that we have gathered for rehearsal. He wants us to do a “radio run” or “Italian” of the play. This means we will stay seated exactly as we are, and deliver the text as quickly as possible while still maintaining the integrity of our thoughts and intentions. This exercise can be informative because it makes your brain work faster and infuses new life into scenes. As the country goat herder Audrey, I don’t speak until the second half of the play, but before I know it, I hear my cue line coming from across the circle. I look over and see my Touchstone, played by Stephen Ouimette, with a twinkle in his eye. He’s the best. We do our thing back and forth across the circle and rehearsal is broken.
Back at home I put on a frock, have a quick salad and a cocktail with a friend, and together we run out the door to the opening of Hello Dolly! The energy in the theatre is buzzing, the show is fabulous and the crowd erupts at the end with whistles, shouts of “Bravo!” and people on their feet in never-ending applause. And there we have the second day of opening week complete.
No comments:
Post a Comment