Blocked and Loaded

All of last week, we blocked the play. (With the exception of two scenes at the end, which still need to be blocked, because of absences last week.) I didn't post about each night, because as usual, I don't find blocking rehearsals to be of much general interest.

The term itself is a bit of a misnomer, isn't it? We call it a "blocking rehearsal" sometimes, but most of the time a cast isn't rehearsing anything; they are receiving instructions as to their movements for the first time in any given scene. Often they will run through the newly given blocking once before moving on to the next scene, which I suppose makes it a sort of instant rehearsal. But truly, nothing is getting practiced. It's getting learned.

So of course, I write little about it. The truth, as I have often written here on this blog, is that I'm not a fan of blocking rehearsals, necessary though they may be.

I will mention that there is a lot of extra blocking for a non-musical. A large door on wheels is a part of nearly every scene, and getting that in place is a particular challenge. (One the actors don't generally have to deal with, though we have no running crew as of yet.) There are also scenes that verge somewhat on a "dance" even though there is no music. A certain stylistic vision of the movements of the characters that naturally springs from the nature of the piece.

This week, there has been only one rehearsal so far, on Monday. (I write this on Wednesday.) That didn't go as planned, because of two unexpected absences. The director had a family emergency. One of the actresses was missing for unknown reasons at the time. So we were short one director and one actress.

The stage manager ran rehearsal. We ran the aforementioned blocking for both acts, and though there was some remaining confusing, between the director's notes and such, we were able to cover a great deal of ground, even if we couldn't run every scene.

We all like a linear rehearsal process as the ideal. But it;s ideal because it's not always possible. But when a rehearsal time is filled with running something that must be perfected eventually, it isn't wasted time to me. The more any given section of a play is run, the better it will be, and the more time is made available to run other parts that are not as far along.  So even when things go a bit haywire, as described above, so long as the two hours are put to use practicing, I'm pretty much satisfied it was time well spent.

Tonight we rehearse again, though I don't know what is on the agenda, what with the various derailments of the week. I'd assume we'd block the final few scenes, and run those, if the director is able to return. If she is not, than I suppose we will do very much what we did on Monday, and only progress will result from hitting those scenes again. Heaven knows I could use as much practice as I can get. Lot's of lines for me in this one.

I think my stage English is improving as time goes on. Not becoming authentic, truly, but improving, and getting closer to easing the audience's suspension of disbelief. That's probably a fair goal to shoot for in the time we have. I run lines at home with the accent as well.

Some setbacks and a sluggish beginning to this one, but I have zero worries about this show at this time. Rehearsals that are mostly quiet, as these are, without too much BS can make all the difference.

Underway with Jekyll (And Hyde)

Last week we had the table reading for Jekyll and Hyde. (Henceforth referred to as J&H.) The director, a friend whom I have known for years, provided wine and cheese for the affair. But even without these items, it went well.

Sadly, someone who had been cast tried out for something else, and opted to take that role instead, so that caused a delay in starting the rehearsal process. Now, I had never met this person, but I thought that was a lousy thing to do. All the worse because someone left a show I was directing once just as it was getting started, and to tell you the truth, it still angers me to think about it to this day. So, I don't take kindly to people doing that to other directors.

However, all roles were eventually filled, and we were off and running.

Because of the delay, I have a hell of a lot to memorize in far less time than normal. I'm working on it of course, but the clock is ticking faster on this one than on most.

I have been playing with a stage British accent. I'm sure I'd fool no actual British person, but I think it has become serviceable, and I will continue to hone it. I haven't used an accent in a play in years.

We blocked the first few scenes last night. (I'm a bit behind in my updating here.) That took longer than the director wanted to, for various reasons. The play, though consisting of a small cast and minimal sets has certain aspects that can make staging tricky, especially in a smaller space such as the Black Box Arts Center. I do believe the intimate venue will eventually serve the play well, but it will take some special considerations as we get started and work out way through the movements. The first several scenes are more complicated in that regard than subsequent ones.

Blocking rehearsals tonight (Tuesday) through to Thursday this week, so there will be much more to say about the feel of the movements on stage as soon as tonight.

Roadblocks and Silver Linings

There's just no way around the fact that blocking out a play can take a while. While I don't rehearse tonight, I go back tomorrow, and that will be the first time my final, (and frankly, best) scene is blocked out. It happens to be the final scene in the play, which means, in theory, we will be able to start rehearsing and creating the character stuff.

We didn't have access to the theatre on Thursday, so we were forced to use a building next door in which I've never been before. I've never rehearsed a scene in a smaller space in my life, and that includes rooms in people's homes.

Yet I didn't mind so much. The play is a bit claustrophobic in a sense, just a collection of men all at odds with one another over goals and styles, scraping to get what they need or want out of each other within the myopic scope of 1980's real estate selling. Though we won't be performing in the aforementioned tiny space, being there for one night heightening this sense of myopia. (Block was basically out of the question, so we worked on a scene that requires almost no blocking; the first one, which take places at a table.)

You have that sometimes in volunteer theatre. Small road blocks exist, or will be thrown up in front of you and the rest of the cast at last minute. It isn't probably to cancel rehearsal every time this happens, so you do what you can. Often, the result of the challenge, (aside from initial worry) is a new emotion, a new take, a new line read that shine a different line on the scene, the play, or the character. Even when the roadblock itself is removed and rehearsal resumes as normal, that which arises from the added pressure of the roadblock often remains in the remaining rehearsals and on to the performance.

An actor must be in control, know what he is doing, and leave very little to chance...eventually. But there are times, often earlier in the process, when chance does play a large role in shaping what we do with our performances. The windows that are opened during trying times sometimes more than make up for the doors that are shut.

For me, rehearsal for the next three nights. Who knows what roadblocks and silver linings await the process in those evenings.

Glengarry Glen Cross

So we have been working on blocking this week. The stupid pun of a title for this post was not at all avoidable.

As with so much of theatre, there are about 100 different ways to conduct a blocking rehearsal. Some are less headache-inducing than others, but to me just about all of them are tedious. This is a minority opinion in the theatre world, but I don't think blocking a play should come early in the process. That's just a general perception on my part, not particular to this production.

In this type of theatre production, generally you have a table reading, a little discussion, and then move right into the blocking rehearsal, wherein of course the movements of the characters on stage, and the timing of said movements are given to the actors. This is not unimportant. But, (and here is the minority opinion part), they are to me a waste of fertile creative time.

To me character and line delivery should come first in a show. Yes, the actors have to be somewhere, but when two thirds of one's brain power is dedicated to writing down "cross left, take two steps toward desk, stop on Roma's line, 'XYZ,' then cross your arms,"  the exploration of the text is stunted. It's usually stopped completely. In fact, often a director will not consider line delivery an interpretation and such during these times, and will say so to the cast. (Our director for this show said as much the other day at one point, wanting to just "get it down," and not worry about subtext just yet. This is not an uncommon approach for directors.)

In my view as an actor of many productions, this presents several problems.

To begin with, all interpretation must take place privately, at home for the first few weeks. This is not a problem in and of itself, but an actor invests in this take, and when blocking is over, and the director now turns their attention to working on such matters, it becomes more difficult for the actor to rewire what he has spent so much time constructing. Naturally, actors sometimes have to change what they are doing, and I don't deny this. But when short rehearsal calendars are front loaded with blocking, the actor must either invest nothing at all in the character, and provide no interpretations of same until blocking is completed, or they must face the possibility or said rewiring that I mentioned above, which is more than just a bit of tweaking.

When one is a unionized professional actor, the show is what one does. The danger I have described is not as present, because in most cases each actor is currently making their living by means of the production. In short, it means more time to wrestle with these sort of entanglements. But for the volunteer actor, who has a large portion of non-theatre experience to which he must dedicate his time and thought, it can be more of a challenge to change course on a path one has taken for several weeks. It can happen, sometimes it is necessary. Yet I wonder why it is made so much more difficult than it has to be.

The solution? At this level, I prefer to allow the actors to delve into their roles, get to know one another, establish chemistry with the actors in the play. As Olivier said, "its not how long you've had the lines memorized, but how long it's been in your heart." It's much more difficult to let a character into your heart when you have to stop every line to be told where your shoulders should be facing, and how to form the oft sought out triangle of actors on stage.

For me, and for others with whom I have worked, it is much easier, not to mention much less frustrating, to know who I am playing, his motivations, his relationships, his quirks, and then be told that I am entering too early, or that it would be better if I don't sit down yet. When the character is in your heart, you can find more ways to follow the blocking. If you are in your third rehearsal, and only walking down left because the director told you to, in order to make a nice frame, it keeps the character out of your heart longer. One gets closer to opening night before the real magic begins to happen.

I'd love blocking to come latter in the volunteer theatre process.

Again, the minority opinion, as many of my opinion expressed here on the blog have been over the years. I don't mind having the minority opinion, if I feel it better serves the creative art of the individual actor on the stage, regardless of their level of experience.

24 Hour TheatreFest: Conclusion

Yesterday was the day, and it was a success. I covered how it went over on my regular blog, so forgive the laziness of this, but I will just link to that from here, so you can get an idea of how it went, and what it meant for me.

Birnam Wood Approaches Dunsinane.

Last night we rehearsed Act V several times. It is a short act, especially in our production. At most 15 minutes. Obviously it's an important 15 minutes, and we've spent several rehearsal night over the last month on Act V alone.

This will be our final one, however, as starting tonight we will be rehearsing entire halves of the show, and then not long afterward, stumbling through the entire show each night.

Yes, it's getting close. We open in less than a month.

Yet as for last night, I give myself mixed reviews. The final speech of the play is Malcolm's, and it was one of the last things I worked on getting off book for. I am so, but at times there are two places in the speech that I tend to trip over about half the time. I don't know why, exactly. Partly, I guess, is because it's not a particularly great speech. Partly because of the pressure of ending the entire play with it. Partly a few other things, I'm sure. But in the three times I did it last night, I needed to call for line the first time, totally botched the second time, but managed at last to deliver it in its entirety on the third and final run through of the night, much to my relief. I won't swear that means I'll have no more trouble for the rest of the rehearsal process with that speech, but I have proven that I do "have" it in me, and that goes a long way.

In the speech, Malcolm, now king of Scotland, thanks and rewards his followers, sums up what he plans to do first as king, and mentioned that when the time is right, he'll do whatever ever else needs to be done. Then he thanks everyone again and invites them to see him get crowned.

St. Crispin's Day speech, it ain't.

Still, it's my longest single speech in the pay, by word count, and it will be the final punch in the show, so I want to make sure I get it right. I don't want all the action of war and running in Act V that leads up to that moment to come to a crashing, boring halt on my account. I don't think that will happen, and I certainly don't want to implant that fear too deeply into my mind, but I wanted to at least mention I'm aware of the speech's place in the production, and the work and vigilance required of me to keep it going as well as I did at the end of last night.

I will say that on the most successful of the run-throughs, I delivered the speech as though out of breath from battle. Perhaps that is a clue as to how the speech should be given? Not, as I usually do, as some grand oration. It's utilitarian. It's functional. I need not be poetry, (though written totally in verse, almost.) It's like exposition at the end of the play. A strange place for it, but I can use that description to guide how to deliver it, perhaps. Malcolm is restored order in Scotland, and the speech is the first gathering of that restored order. If I approach it like that, I think I'll feel more comfortable with it, and if I am more comfortable with it, if I can relate to it, I am less likely to make mistakes. That is my theory at this time.

Act V is also the only act wherein Malcolm is directly military, in a sense, leading an actual battle. He comes in and out quickly, with a few short speeches here and there in the rest of Act V before the close, and I'm for more comfortable with those section for whatever reason. Though I will feel even more at ease when they can be blocked properly; because of the ongoing remodeling of the venue, we have yet to run any scenes with the actual blocking, as one main exist is blocked by lumber and equipment. I had hoped by now we'd have that route cleared, but it happens when it happens. It might lead to some confusion, with the new structure and traffic patterns, and less rehearsal time than ideal. But I'd rather exit through the wrong door than make any number of other mistakes. Besides, I imagine I'll get it right, once we can run it over and over.

Tonight, Half One. (A term I use so as not to confuse it with the "Act I" of the text. The half wherein I play Malcolm pre-kingly. Not to mention two other tiny characters consecutively. I think I'll try some costume pieces in those scenes, just to get a rough idea of what sort of timing will be needed. Plus I want to make sure that both are highly distinct from both one another and from Malcolm.

The Long and Winding Road

That led to last night's rehearsal. Literally.

I mentioned previously that due to various difficulties, rehearsals for Radium Girls had been moved to a back-up location about 90 minutes drive from my home. I went there last night to get blocking notes. More on that in a moment, but one big item to mention is that from here on out, our rehearsals will be in the Black Box Arts Center, where the show will be performed in June.

The director told us this not long after I arrived. I won't lie about this; I'm quite relieved. Every show and every venue has its issues, but the prospect of that long of a commute twice a night three or so night a week for the duration was to me a daunting one. I found myself willing at first, but after making the trek two times in a few days, I confess my resolve was faltering.

Would I have quit? I doubt it. Would I have had to miss more rehearsals than I like? Possibly. But for now it is a moot point. My commute is back to less than half the length. I don't know what exactly changed to allow it, but I'm happy it did so.

As to the rehearsal itself, it was mostly a blocking session. Blocking sessions, as I mentioned last time, don't generally provide interesting fodder for commentary. I'll mention I need to be in a crowd scene now, that I didn't think I was in previously. It will require a quick shift, as the scene comes right after a scene in which I play one of the two characters on stage. I actually have several instant shifts like that throughout the play. I don't think it will be too bad, once we get into the flow of things, but of course, I'd rather have a longer break between characters. But I have more than one long break in this show, unlike my previous production, so I can't complain too much.

Besides, in the above example, I don't have to do anything but sit down, for two minutes, and clap at the end of a speech. I almost don't even count it as a transition. Because I like to be thorough, I'll probably give some form of identity to the guy I'm playing in that ultra-brief appearance, but he's not my focus for the time being.

It's makes for a good reference, though. An actor should attach something to whatever character he's playing, even background roles such as this one. Regular readers of this blog know that I'm a big proponent of everyone on stage any given time having a story to tell. It may be a story that only the actor knows, but a story should be present, to give even the tiniest of performances three dimensions. I've quoted my late stage-directing professor on this topic several times. "You can't put a cardboard maid on stage." Indeed you can't. I'll have more on this item later on, probably.

As for my larger roles, I've been doing character work on them. IN fact I've been using methods for character creation that I haven't utilized in my last few shows. Not that I was lazy in previous shows, but over the years you try different methods and tricks to make more of what you're doing. In this case, I'm writing down some personality traits, and a small bit of backstory for my characters. I use that depth on a regular basis, but it's been a few years since I wrote it down as a visual reference i can review in its own right. I rarely get complicated with this process, but it nonetheless has in the past provided an anchor to performances, especially for small(er) roles. I'm in the early stages of it, but already I feel some of the benefits.

One brief example. There is a famous photograph of a young Thomas Edison, taken after he'd worked 72 hours straight on the phonograph. His exhaustion, frustration and determination are clear. That is the sort of weary persistence I want to give one of my characters at times. (Berry, the court advocate for the sick girls.) The picture doesn't tell his exact story, of course, but it does convey a type of presence similar to the one I wish to project with Berry at certain times. So I can refer to that photo as a general lighthouse of the human experience, calling me to the port of the goals I have for my version of Berry. See it below.

The director told us we needed to start "doing our homework" on such things as building characters, as well as getting off book, because it looks like the entire cast will almost never be together in one sitting before tech week. That is to say, may not have as much time to work on nuance together as would be ideal. The director advised us that if she found any of us going in a totally misguided direction she would pull us back, but in general, she trusted us to come up with things, and that she'd liked what little she had seen of character so far in the blocking rehearsals. (Where character work isn't the main goal.)

So here's hoping I don't need to be pulled back or course corrected with any of my decisions.

It appears I am in goof shape for the character I was given only a few days ago, Flinn. (A scientist of dubious qualifications to make medical statements.) I'm only just now beginning to explore what to do with him in his only scene, but I knew a certain arrogance should probably come through. It must have, as the stage manager moaned several times while I ran the scene and just how much she disliked the character. I pointed out I didn't like him either. But I'm happy that kind of reaction took place, as was the director. So I'd say I'm in the ballpark with that one.

So, some time has been lost, and there have been some obstacles. There will probably be a few more before all is said and done with this show. But it's my opinion that despite some of the difficulties, being able to rehearse in the same venue as the performance will start to smooth things out here and there. We'll see.

Next rehearsal is tomorrow night.

Radium Girls: Additions and Subtractions

There have been three blocking rehearsals to date for the show. I generally don't post much about such evenings, as there is very little to report. Everyone gets told where to stand and when to sit and such. Not intriguing stuff.

However, in that same short amount of time, quite a bit has happened with the show.

To begin with, due to some remodeling at the Black Box, as well as some other reasons, most of our rehearsals will now be at a school that is an hour and fifteen minutes from where I live. (Black Box is about 40 minutes.) So a great deal of time has been added to my commute, and I won't likely ever get there at the start of rehearsal. That is what it is.

The bigger news though, is that someone has already quit the show. They came only once as far as I know. The initial table read. After that they didn't show up and didn't call...until I suppose yesterday, confirming they were out. Never met them before. Always a jackass thing to due, absent an emergency. (And there doesn't seem to have been one in this case, from what i have gathered.)

So, his roles have been divided up among others, while certain roles have been shifted. I was asked if i wanted to take on two of them myself. I agreed to take one more, as I thought five characters in this production was too much for me to give my full attention to. So I'll now be playing Flinn, for those familiar with this show. He's got one scene, so my work load hasn't increased too much. I just glad it happened this early, and not, say two weeks before we open.

I don't rehearse Fridays, but today's planned rehearsal for others was cancelled, so the director can take some time and rewrite the schedule. Hopefully once that's done, we'll find we don't need to be rehearsing at the school as often as initially believed, and will then be set for a while.

It's been a bit of a chaotic process so far, sadly. But again, better it happen up front, then in the middle of even worse near the end of the process. Here's hoping this latest hurdle is the last of the big ones for us.

Three Days of One-Der

Since last I wrote here, I've been to three production rehearsals. They have mostly been blocking "rehearsals," or more accurately, they have been meeting during which the blocking is introduced to the actors. Important, and at times tedious work in any production. It's not the type of work that can be written about in any interesting way. The directors placed the actors in their respective plays on the stage for each page. End of that story. Such decisions almost always evolve and change a bit during rehearsals anyway, as a production wears on.

As a reminder, this is an evening of one-act plays. Three of them, to be exact. I appear in two of this. The first is just under an hour long, the second, and final of the evening is about 15 minutes long.

I do have to make a significant correction at this point. Previously I had said that the two plays I am in were written by members of the company. The scripts and the publicity for the audition that I saw didn't list the playwrights, only the titles, so this was my conclusion.

I was incorrect. The shorter one is in fact written by the head of the company. But the longer of the two plays I am in, called Laughter of the Gods was written nearly one hundred years ago by the Irish playwright Lord Dunsany. The original script is a full length play, billed as "a tragedy in three acts." It has been edited down to a one-act play for our production. (I am uncertain by whom.)

From what I've gathered in my research, Dunsany is rather obscure outside of fantasy fiction circles. (Where he is considered a bit of a pioneer, due to his common themes of magic and divinity.) There is also little to be found about this play, though I did determine it ran on Broadway for just over one month in 1918. The Punch and Judy Theater, for those interested in such factoids.

I found one brief modern review for the script. A consumer who purchased a volume of Dunsany's work on Amazon considered the script "stilted." As I work to memorize the lines of the play, I can say I agree with the assessment. With a handful of exceptions, there is very little poetry in the script, and at times the diction is a nightmare. Still, an interesting choice to stage such a play today, albeit an abridgment. I'm starting to see my character (Ludibras) a bit more clearly now. The director even allowed me to approach a line differently than the way he has initially planned, which was good of him.

I met one on one with the actress playing my character's wife On Sunday before rehearsal. I'm glad I did so. I said in my previous post that a lot of directors don't "allow" that. Our director encourages it. Things will change and evolve as they always do, but I feel I and the actress, (whom I had never met before this show) have a better understanding of both one another, and our respective approaches to our characters.

If you've read this blog regularly, you know how often I say this: feeling comfortable and amiable with your cast mates isn't 100% necessary for a high quality show, but it makes it a damn sight more likely and easier.

The director of the whole company, (and author of the shorter play) did tell me he liked where I was going with my character in that play. That's probably the main "news" to report for now. As I think about it, I don't think I've ever performed any role in front of the playwright who wrote it before. I was an A.D. for a show that a local playwright wrote, and he came to rehearsals. The same thing happened in college, in fact. But I've never been in this situation before.

It's not as awkward as I thought it might be, though it is a short play, and the playwright himself has to appear in it too, I believe, because of the lack of cast members. There's probably too much to worry about for me to feel too awkward about it.

That's been the only major difficulty in this production so far: schedules. We've not had the whole cast together on one night yet. This of course makes blocking and character work somewhat difficult. Yet I feel most sympathy in this regard for the one play I am not in: Philip Glass Buys a Loaf of Bread by David Ives. I was in that same play years ago, and it requires such exquisite precision in both rhythmic line delivery and stage placement that any missed rehearsal is equal to two missed rehearsals in a more standard show.

Plus in this production the director is making use of dance moves, which means a choreographer, who already has limited time to commit to rehearsals. I sympathize with the plight of that part of the production, but I won't lie; I'm relived I won't have to be doing that show again! Once is probably enough for that one.

Next official rehearsal is this coming Friday.



 

Honoring Ten Years of Always Off Book!

That's right, this month marks the ten year anniversary of this humble theatre blog of mine.

In all that time, I have been in many shows, lived a few places, tried a few experiments, published a novel about the theatre, tried to start my own company, wrote produced and performed (for very few people) my own one man show, helped found a small arts center, wrote another stage play I hope to have performed sometime, and generally continued to participate in and celebrate the stage in my life.

Through all of that there has been this blog. True, it has over the last few years had less content on it than it did in its early years. This is due mostly to my not being in someone elses show for quite a while. As regular readers know, most of what I write about here on the blog is how any given show I am in is progressing. I write about other theatre thoughts sometimes as well, but a general over view of my success and that of the production has always been the meat and potatoes of always off book, with general theatre advice columns coming in a decent second place in terms of frequency.

One of my first posts ever, about stage kissing, continues to get responses even all of this time later. I am proud of that, and happy to advise anyone who come to the piece by way of a Google search. (where the post is in the top ten, first pages returns sometimes.)

That early post is, however, in general the exception. I rarely get feedback on my thoughts here on the blog, even when I'm in a show. Outside of that kissing post from 2005, I've not gotten any comments on anything I've posted here in a very long time from the perspective of cyber space, despite my best efforts to involve any readers our there in the conversation.

Does that bother me? Honestly, yes. Perhaps not as much as it did in the earlier years, but the lack of connection I have made with fellow artists on this blog is discouraging and sad. That was and remains that only reason for Always Off Book- to share my thoughts and experiences on acting in the theatre with others who share my deep interest in same. I have hoped for years that a niche would build around this blog and it never has.

Blame promotion, or luck, or something else for that, heaven knows I don't know. I have the same problem with my regular, somewhat more business focused blog, TyUnglebower.com. The fact is that with that one exception, this blog, after ten years of my trying, (ten years!) reaches and touches, it would seem, nobody. I am not even certain if any of the posts get read, though I have, in theory, a few following via blogger, according to the stats.

I'll allow myself a tiny bit of self-indulgence here when I ask, would it have killed any of you guys to have answered and shared your thoughts on something I posted over the last decade, when I asked?

Now that I've put the disappointment front and center, I won't dwell on it. I will say that despite all of this, the blog is vanishing. I may have less frequent original content so long as I'm not in a show, and it would seem I am writing for basically nobody but myself here, year after year. But just as I won't allow myself to give up on the desire to do more acting and directing on my life even during the inexplicably dry periods, I will continue to keep this blog. Like the creative life, it will have eras of high and low points, much activity, and virtually none. But the words remain. My reflections, advice, perceptions and temporary memoirs-in-miniature from productions continue to have value to me, and, I maintain, still have value for others in theatre who should happen to come across it.

So despite the crickets, for now, it stays. And to celebrate ten years of blogging, I will be reposting some of my "greatest hits" on a regular basis throughout the next year, as time allows. Posts of all kinds that I think have defined this blog in its many stages, and posts that I think, or at least hope, can be of service to my fellow actors. Short of that, I hope the posts are interesting.

I'll continued to post original context throughout the tenth year, as it comes to me. But I'll have blasts from the past mixed in as well.

So, happy anniversary, Always Off Book.

Buckingham's Paradigm Shift

Last night we blocked Act IV, Scene 2. It is a pivotal scene, for the audience as well as my character. It is the scene where Richard, now crowned king, turns his back on Buckingham, heretofore his most trusted counselor. Often, in productions of this play, it is the moment when the audience abandons whatever remaining morbid admiration it has for the protagonist. Whether or not that is what will happen in our production, one things is clear; I have an important job to do in this scene. In fact, it may be the most important moment I have in the play.

My task is a difficult one here. I must find enough within me to convey not only the deep shock of Richard's request to kill the princes in the Tower, but I must get to the place where I can convey this sudden shifting the dynamic. Buckingham has been complicit with Richard and his "complots" up until this moment. Right then, however, it all changed. Not only for me, but for Richard. I must not only present a convincing portrayal of my character's paradigm shift, but I must also respond in an effective manner to the shift Richard makes.

In short, there are several huge tone shifts happening in a short amount of time, and I need to internalize them all as an actor. I have broad strokes in mind as to how to do it now, and some decent moments so far. Naturally this will be somewhat easier once we are off book, but it will require much consideration on my part. It is one of the larger acting challenges I have had in a while, I dare say.

It all begins with a full portrait of Buckingham. I'm still working on that. Once complete, (or as near complete as an actor can expect to have in the time allowed), I will have something on which to ponder and meditate as the weeks go on. It will be both potentially exciting and potentially troublesome. I must allow no shortcuts. I must take the journey of this character as best I can. I do so for every character, but not every character I play requires as much consideration and foundation-building as this. Often a throw-away role, I insist on my Duke of Buckingham having depth, strength, intelligence, and by the end of the play, humanity. I look forward to sharing this important journey with you, loyal blog readers.

Tonight, according to the schedule, we'll be running a few scenes that have been mostly blocked already. (Though I was absent when some of them were blocked earlier in the week, if I am not mistaken.) But the schedule changed a bit last night, so tonight's agenda may be altered as well by the time I get to the theatre. It should go without saying by now that I'll fill you in here once it's over.

"The Deep Tragedian"

Last night at rehearsal we blocked most of my scenes in Act III. This is the longest, and most involved act of the play, and also happens to be the act in which I appear most often.

As is the case with most early rehearsals dedicated to blocking, there is little of interest to the outside world I can report. There was some talk of motivation here and there as we played around with one short scene. An abrupt exit provided by Shakespeare was rubbing several people a bit of the wrong way, the director included. Several ideas were discussed, and "Richard" and I at last decided that the exit, (which both of us make for a moment) is designed to give the two characters an excuse to go off and concoct a quick plan to trap the Lord Hastings. For moments later Hastings is sentenced to death on flimsy charges. It worked well on the night, and it is a motivation we will probably keep, unless something better presents itself.

Act III also includes the scene where Richard conspires with Buckingham to pretend he does not want the crown when it is offered to him. In it, Buckingham leads the Mayor and a group of citizens to Richard's home ostensibly to change Richard's mind on the matter. Buckingham, in his own words from an earlier scene must "counterfeit the deep tragedian", and play up an impassioned plea for the citizens to witness. It is my longest, and perhaps most energetic scene in the play.

It also requires Buckingham to call up to Richard from "below". The venue is a small one, and would not allow for a balcony, so I must stand somewhat in the house in order to accomplish this.

As a rule, I am not a great fan of performing from the house. It is a personal preference. Some actors love doing it. I avoid it when I can. Yet for this scene I must admit I understand the necessity. All other options would, frankly, look poor. Then there is the added effect of including the audience among the "citizens" as Richard and I speak to same. So I will have to be sure to project, as my back will be to the audience for a large portion of that important scene. (Though I may turn back and forth to them as I speak.)

I might try to post the rare picture on the blog to give you an idea of the performance space. I have never done that before.

Tonight is a shorter night for me. I arrive early, and we will block my only scene in Act IV. (When Buckingham doesn't go along with the murder of the princes in the tower.) A short but highly significant scene for my character. After that, I go home, as the other scenes on the docket don't involve Buckingham.

Abbreviated

Yesterday was a shorter rehearsal than normal. Only about an hour long or so. I mention in my last post that we'd be going over a scene wherein I had no lines. That was true for the first half of rehearsal, but that didn't require much time at all. (I have a lot of pantomime later in Act Three, but not enough people were present to go over that part.) So after about 30 minutes we reviewed two other scenes in which I, and the two leads appear.

So, not much to report in regards to that.

Something to report however is that two people who were set to be "Players" have opted to not be in the show anymore. This coming a few days after a different one of the players opted out. So at this point we now have only one actor to be a "player", and we probably need at least Six. So the scramble is on to find some people fast. One person is checking his schedule from what I understand to see if he can help us out. Hopefully the fact that none of those parts of lines will encourage people to participate on short notice.

I am about half way off book for my few scenes, however. I will work more on that tonight sometime. Otherwise my next rehearsal is tomorrow (Wednesday) night.

To A Nunnery Go

Last night we blocked out all of Act Two. At least as much as we could with again so many people missing. (The entire cast has yet to meet at one time.) This was particularly problematic during one certain scene. A troupe of traveling actors is present, as they are in Hamlet. This scene involves one of their rehearsals for the show they will perform for the Danish Court. There is much moving around on the part of these Players as their director narrates the story they are silently performing. It requires about six people.

Last night we had but one of the "traveling players" present. Needless to say, this presented difficulties.

Not for myself, though, as I am not in that scene. I am however in several scenes in Act Two. (There are three acts, remember.) In fact now that I think about it, Act Two is the section of the play which intertwines most obviously with the actual Hamlet. The whole play does of course, but there are more occasions in Act Two when the Shakespearean characters, particularly my own, wander in and out of scenes as they carry on their Hamlet business.

Some of that business is quite intense. I get to run in shouting "It hath made me mad," at Ophelia. (The end of the "Get thee to a nunnery" speech.) So that is pretty intense if only for a moment. It doesn't matter that the scene in the play is not intense. My character at that moment is intense.

Then there are times when I am silent but still acting. At one point I walk on unawares of the title characters, as I am delivering "To be or not to be..." Nobody can hear me doing so of course, but seeing as how I know this speech, I was able to mouth it to myself as I made the entrance, and as I stood off to the side. I want to try to time it so that I am actually ending that speech as Ophelia enters, just as happens in the real Hamlet. Don't know if there will be time to iron that out, but I am going to come as close to it as I can.

There is another scene like that. Hamlet sends Rosencrantz and Guildenstern off ahead of him in Act IV Scene 4 of the original play. They go off and he delivers the "How all occasions do inform against me" speech. This one I do not have memorized, and probably cannot have by opening night. However once again Hamlet is seen mouthing this speech, (or at least could be) as the two leads are talking. I'd like to memorize at least some of that speech and mouth it to myself in the background. Adds realism. The best part about that one is that the leads walk off and leave Hamlet there still talking to himself when the lights go off. I wouldn't need more than a few lines of the speech.

Why do I do this? Put in some extra time to memorize lines nobody will hear me delivering? If you are a regular visitor to Always Off Book, you know the answer. I take my work on stage seriously. I want to give the extra push, offer the extra shine whenever I can. The timing may not work out perfectly, but I refuse to be on stage and utter "peas and carrots, pea and carrots" to represent talking to myself. (By the way, an actor should never do that.) If I didn't know the actual lines this character spoke at those moments, I'd invent realistic ones myself. A character in the background is still a character.

Another reason is that it's Shakespeare, and of course beyond that, it is Hamlet. I intend to perform Hamlet in Hamlet in the next few years, but this play offers me my first actual chance to be the Danish Prince on stage. I am but a background role in this show, but that doesn't mean I can't enjoy playing Hamlet.

And of course in some ways, I enjoy the extra challenge.

Another of my challenges in Act Two will be dragging the actor playing Polonious down a large ramp and around a tight corner to the backstage. It would appear the scene is optional in the script and the director asked both "Polonious" and myself if we were up for it. We both gave our assent though we didn't attempt it last night. There was even talk of Hamlet's dragging him via a cart or wagon of some sort. A humorous visual. It remains undecided at this point.

Next rehearsal will be brief for me, and unusual; I have zero lines in the long scene I will be blocking tonight. I think that is a first for me. But in Act Three, Hamlet has a large amount of stage time, despite having no lines. So I might as well be there for the rehearsal to at least get a feel for where I will be, and how I will move.

It continues to be an interesting experience, this play.

Enter Hamlet

First blocking rehearsal tonight. Given that a few actors could not make it tonight, we skipped a large scene in the middle of Act One, but otherwise blocked all of the first act. (It should be pointed out that on paper this script has three acts and not two.)

This director has admitted that she is not fond of giving blocking directions. She prefers to keep things general, and relies a lot on what feel natural for the actor. She has some instructions for us, and will have more as time goes on, but it will in most cases probably be a play of minimal blocking.

Especially for me in Act One. Hamlet enters and grabs Ophelia by the hand, and lets forth a sigh that is "piteous" and such. In fact the stage directions for that moment are almost word for word from Ophelia's speech in Shakespeare wherein she describes to her father what had just happened between the two of them in her sewing room. In other words a silent scene which doesn't appear in the source material. That will require some work in order to give anyone the impression that anything is happening. But this was an early rehearsal.

My next moment, also silent, is when I simply cross the stage reading a book, and then exit. This is also referenced in Shakespeare. It would be the moment when right before Hamlet reaches the lobby, where he is discovered by Polonious, the King and the Queen, pretending to be crazy all along.

Finally I enter again in what would be near the end of the interrogation Polnious gives to Hamlet. ("...if like a crab, you could go backward.") There will eventually be a high platform and ramp down which I will walk for this scene. The director isn't sure exactly what it will look like, but that is the overall plan. Right now the entrance to stage left is blocked, so we just had to fake it.

After a brief break, we ran all of those scenes again.

"Guildenstern" was there today. He and I are friends and have been in several plays together over the years. He only recently came to the realization that this will be a shortened rehearsal process, and indeed it will be. I have to say I think I would have had some fun in one of the two lead roles, but in this case I am somewhat thankful for the smaller role. I won't have as much to work on in these four weeks. That, and the small role being Hamlet doesn't hurt either.

My next rehearsal is not until Sunday. It has been a while since I had that many days between rehearsals. I am therefore going to see if I can get off book for my few lines by then. I may not get all the way off, but I should make a pretty good dent in it if I keep at it.

Much of that time should also be spent trying to get into the character of Hamlet. As I mentioned before I may not have the time, on stage or off to explore the character as much as I would like to. However, it is Hamlet, and I think some interesting exploration can still take place.

Add Ons and Take Aways

Sunday's rehearsal was a bit tricky. But not as problematic as it might have been.

For starters, two actors were missing. That always makes the earliest rehearsals more difficult. As a director, I always prefer people to miss rehearsals at the halfway mark or beyond, if they have to miss any at all. Things cannot solidify until everyone is at least familiar with the basic blocking and prop usage. That solidity is delayed when there are a lot of absences in the early weeks. (I think A Thurber Carnival suffered from this problem.) However I don't think this play is paying the price of it just yet. Both actors are expected to return for Thursday. (Though a different will be out that night.)

In addition, more set pieces, props and costume pieces were added to the mix last night. (My favorite being a toilet seat through which Marley's face will appear when opened. Don't worry, it has never been used.)

I like having those things a bit earlier than most people. The outfit for my one scene as the Ghost of Christmas Future is wild. A black mesh over my face and body, in addition to a white hockey mask. Simple, but effective.

Old Joe will have a beat up stove pipe hat, and an eye patch. I don't know which eye it should go on yet, but probably the left, given that for most of that scene I am addressing a character that sits to my right. That would make some degree of eye contact easier.

There were also some new set change assignments. I will have a whole lot to do from a "tech crew" standpoint, with little time in which to do it, in Act Two. That is because I am rarely off the stage for more than 60 seconds or so during the second half of the play. This play will involve much back stage shuffling and quick movements. We took things slow yesterday so it is difficult to determine how much time I actually will have for some of the actions, but I gather I will have just enough time in most cases.

I'm declaring myself off book for the shorter Act One. I have some work to do in the coming days to get off for the second act, but as I was reviewing yesterday before rehearsal, it won't be as daunting as I initially thought. Half of the long scene at Fred's house, (which I felt would give me the most trouble) consists of a word game. I remember how tedious it was to memorize that the last time I was in this production, but I did forget one thing; as Fred this year, as opposed to one of the guests, most of my lines in this section are "Yes" or "no." It will take a lot of repetition to get it between now and Sunday, but perhaps not as much as I thought at first.

Really, that, and the Old Joe scene represent most of my lines. They just happen to be two longer scenes. My lines as Peter Cratchit are few and far between, and as Frederick Dickens I say only two things in the entire act. One line at the top of the half, one line near the very end. So I have work to do, but not quite as much as I had thought a week ago, before I delved into Act Two in earnest.

Being familiar with both the Dickens text, and this script from two years ago doesn't hurt either.

I feel characterizations starting to emerge from my characters, despite still being on book in many places. I look forward to running Act One on Wednesday without the book, so I can take the roles out for a true spin.

Hard to believe we open in just over four weeks. Or that Christmas itself is just over eight weeks away for that matter.

Blocking is Done!

At least until we change it. But that is the nature of a show.

Still, last night we got down on paper all of the blocking for A Christmas Carol. We finished act 2, and then re-ran part of act one for the sake of an actor who was missing when we first went through it, and will also miss the next 3 rehearsals. Not to mention the fact that we needed to test that set blocking against the new lay out of the stage. No major problems.

I think the next thing I need to work extra hard on, other than getting off book, is accents. To me, a few of my characters sound too much a like. Which would be excusable, since the same guy is playing all of them, but I'd like to vary things a bit. Old Joe stands out the most, and sounds the least like any of the others. The biggest differentiation I want to make is between Frederick, the brother of Dickens himself, and Fred, the nephew of Scrooge. Peter Cratchit will eventually just be a slightly higher pitched voice. Younger Scrooge will be tricky. I am going to try to emulate some of the diction and accent of the man who plays the older Scrooge throughout the play. I also plan to copy some of his hand gestures. (Which will become more clear once nobody is holding their scripts anymore.)

There is still some work to do on the set, and when it is done, Old Joe will have a platform to stand on towering above those who are selling Scrooge's stuff. I look forward to really perfecting this scene, as I have been in more than one version of it over the years. Plus, this Old Joe had a bit of an edge. You almost get the sense he has a knife in his belt, ready to expertly slice someone up should the annoy him for too long. It's a short scene and a minor character, but a memorable one, and I think I'll play around with that motivation a while. (It will be aided by the fact that I'll be wearing an eye patch. At least that is the director's plan for now.)

Blocking rehearsals, i confess, don't usually make for great blog fodder, and this one is no exception. How much can one really say at this stage? "We blocked this scene or that". If there were major problem I would report them, but there were none so far. So the deeper stuff will wait for next week's rehearsals. And especially the week after that when we are to be off book.

Spread Out.

I made a mistake in my last entry. I mention we would be blocking Act Two on Sunday, when in fact that is what we began last night. We didn't get all the way through the act, though, so we will be continuing on Sunday.

There is more complicated blocking in the second act, it seems, so it took longer at times. But we now have more room on the set with which to move about.

The platform that had been incorrectly placed was moved. Also, the number of entrance/exit points has been reduced from four to two. It was decided that things were getting to crowded at times as it had been set up. (The entrances were formed by two l-shaped walls on wheels that can be moved at will.) These were positioned in such a way that despite their now being fewer places to enter the stage, the stage itself has more open space than before.

To begin with, the "base characters" return for the start of the second act. I have but one line in this section as Frederick, but ideally he should be juggling when he says it. I have never juggled in my life. So one of the set designers who knows how is going to work with me and try to teach me how. I'm willing to learn, but have no sense of whether I will be able to do so. The good news is, if I can't master it, throwing the fruit in some fancy way instead of juggling it will still accomplish the goal of my one line.

Perhaps the biggest blocking challenge will be the Fred party scene, during the shadows of Christmas Present section of the play. It seems that almost any stage rendition of A Christmas Carol has this moment from the novel as one of the longer, more boisterous, and sometimes, more complicated scenes in the entire production. The scene being of a lively party, I suppose that makes sense. But I laugh when I think that in all the productions of this story I have been in, it usually takes the most time to block certain scenes, and this one is always among them.

But aside from blocking, I will be challenged to keep the "Fred energy" up the entire time. Unlike his initial appearance, which is mostly a brief encounter with a specific, though difficult mission, the party scene is long and drawn out. Plus, it meanders about a bit. Here we see a Fred totally lost on joviality, without having to stand up against Scrooge. Not an especially difficult motivation; joy. But it is the energy of the scene which is crucial, and I dare say in many ways Fred's energy will be the driving force of it. I shall have to be at near full throttle for that one. Energy should always be high on stage of course, but it is even more noticeable when a high energy actor is playing a high energy character.

During the word game I also have to have Fred on the verge of cracking up at his selection of Uncle Scrooge as the subject of his word game. I'm not a morose fellow, but I am not often laughing for such a sustained period, so that will be something to remember.

The only other thing on which we worked last night was the Cratchit scene in the present. "God Bless Us All", and that sort of thing. I play Peter Cratchit in the scene, and I have to say I have less of a sense of him than any of the other roles I have for this show. He has few lines, and not given much to do. Plus he is ideally much younger than I am. It is in fact a strange assignment, I think, for the character he plays Frederick Dickens. All of the other roles he is assigned are, or can be, roughly the same age as he. But Peter... I think the key is to just keep him subtle while still suggesting a youthful exuberance. His direct age isn't specifically mentioned, and maybe people won't notice. Or perhaps I can pull off playing a child. I did it before once. I am glad I will not have to put Tiny Tim on my shoulders this time though. I did it the last time, and it wasn't the most comfortable affair for me.

I am also starting to work on different voices for different characters. That is always a challenge, but it's even more so when each of those characters is to have an accent. So my goal is to establish a different British accent, as well as a different voice for each. True mastery of such things can take years of study, and I realize that. But I have always prided myself on doing a little bit more with accents than just pronouncing a few words differently. I can't say they would full a native or any such thing, but my goal is to at least keep them consistent. Dropping in and out of an accent during the course of a show is one of the more common flaws in community shows such as this.

I did find a wonderful resource that may help me out with this. This website is dedicated to archiving and recording samples of English being read and spoken with accents from all over the world. I have looked for this kind of site for years as an actor, and I am glad to have stumbled upon it. I played around with it for an hour when I first found out about it. Try it yourself. It's fun and educational. Before this site I would use British sitcoms as guides. And I will still do a bit of that I am sure, even with this new archive at my disposal.

The next rehearsal is Sunday evening, when we will finish act two and I believe run act one again. But I am not certain, and I was wrong the last time I blogged about what came next, so don't quot me on that. But the better stuff always starts to happen once blocking is written down. Not the best stuff, which is reserved for when everyone is off book, but the focus turns mostly toward acting once blocking is set down. So after Sunday we will be getting into high gear, in a manner of speaking.

Act One? Blocking Done!

I had forgotten how rather shot Act I of this version of A Christmas Carol is. I know it seems a little shorter to me than it really is because there is a whole scene at the start of this version in which only two people appear. That scene isn't usually rehearsed with everyone else present, so naturally the first act is going to seem somewhat short. that notwithstanding I still think it will take less time to get through than most first halves. It's just the broad strokes but its there.

To that end, after just two evenings, we have totally blocked the first half already. We even had a rudimentary set tonight, (though a platform had been installed in an incorrect place and has to be moved.)

I play Frederick in the first scene, younger brother of Charles Dickens. His real life story is actually quite a depressing one, so I won't be drawing on much of that. I'll see what I can glean from the facts of his life before his tragic final years. (Which is appropriate for the time period of this play anyway.) I also play Fred, and younger Scrooge in Act One.

These are interesting characters to play in their own right, but I find it interesting to play them both in the same production. I'd like to find some affectations that are common between the two. To play on the irony of some aspect of the two men being, at least at some point in time, very much alike. There is a complexity to both characters, (especially Fred) which often tends to be glossed by stereotypes, decorations, music, and overall holiday exuberance in most productions. One of my main goals is to avoid that shallow presentation of these beloved characters to which nearly every person has been exposed at some point in time. Especially if they celebrate Christmas.

This is also what I tried to do during the first time I was in this play. I succeeded to some extent, but there were many distractions in that production, so I did slip into affectation a few times as opposed to deep acting. But now, as then, I think it is important to remember that although Fred, Scrooge, the Ghosts, Cratchit and all the rest are household names and concepts today, they were in fact literary inventions of a genius initially. Like Shakespearean characters, the true depth and power of these characters cannot be forgotten simply because they would up rewriting everything we feel about Christmas today. They must be kept as human. (or as Spirits as the case may be.) The temptation to put up cardboard cut-outs of these well known characters must be resisted.

Fred, as I said, requires specific attention in this regard. My hope is to play Fred as a very, though realistically joyful soul. A man who is not simply a cartoon happy, but who acquires his happiness from a deeply held faith in both God, Christmas, and people. Not naivete, but persistent commitment to the better angels of everyone's nature. He may not always find them, but he is always willing to look. Especially with his uncle. In my view, without such a commitment, an actor is basically just playing a guy that is half doped up on something when he enters Scrooge and Marley's every year.

That won't be without its challenges because I as a person am not like that. But my aspiration to be more like that is something I plan to tap into as I build my version of the character.

Perhaps that is the same sort of thing that should be drawn upon to play Young Scrooge. A deep spirit that, unlike Fred's, becomes turned at some point. Corrupted. Perhaps that first taste of the equalization he can bring to his life with money in the right places? Or maybe something else happened. He didn't just wake up one day and decide he was a bastard. And despite the brevity of that character's appearance (the younger one remember), I want to have plenty going on inwardly to back up every moment.

And I'll have to explore the whole gamut within just a few minutes. "Good Ebenezer" becomes "Mean Ebenezer" during a cross fade in the lights of a scene, indicating time passing. If I have those motivations in me, it will hopefully be more convincing when that change comes. (One other challenge; the "Good" version of him has no lines. It will all be through physical cues in his interaction with friends, and especially with his love, Belle. It will help that I have worked with the actress playing Belle before.) I have the chance for several potent moments with that actress and her character.

Tomorrow we review act one's blocking, with more emphasis on details and nuance of performances. Though I wouldn't dare put my book down yet, I am already about halfway towards being off book for the act. The deadline for that will be no problem for me. More of my lines, (and indeed some confusing ones) appear in the second half.

But that's the realm of the Ghost of Rehearsals Yet to Come.

Delayed Reaction

It's a bit silly, I know, but I am finally getting around to posting about the first full rehearsal for A Christmas Carol at the Full Circle Theater Company, which took place on Thursday. A couple of things, including my desire to write about the five year anniversary of the launch of this blog got in the way of a more timely post. But given that we have not had any further rehearsals since, playing catch up won't be too hard.

To start with, I don't recall a time in my community theatre career that I have begun one production so soon after concluding another, within the same venue. A Thurber Carnival was, in so many ways, such a trying experience that I have made an effort to put it behind me more completely than most shows once they have concluded. Yet to show up at the theatre a mere 72 hours after leaving the strike for Thurber made that somewhat more difficult.

It was a bit surreal. So recently had the theatre been dedicated to the madness that was Thurber, I still expected to see any given Thurber cast mate walk around any given corner. The Thurber set was minimal, so the stage appeared basically the same as it had been and I found myself once or twice moving back stage in anticipation of avoiding some of that show's furniture and props, which of course weren't there any longer. (Though we are using one of that show's benches in these rehearsals for a while.)

The only actual traces of the previous show were the party hats and bubbles from the atrocious opening dance number, stored on a nearby shelf, a cast strike assignment sheet that someone had not taken down, and one of the signs in the green room which gave the order of the Thurber skits. That's all. Well that, and memories of some of the stress and noise of the last show. Which made the first rehearsal for A Christmas Carol feel unusually quiet and subdued, despite the cast size being roughly the same.

I won't dwell on this transition issue too much longer, but I did want to mention it here because of the unique strangeness. Often when I return to a venue to be in a show, I am met with the ghosts of the last show I performed there, no matter how long ago it was. A cast invests so much time, energy, and thought into getting a show done that it leaves a stamp on the environment. (As does six weeks worth of props, personal trinkets, left over food containers, and trash from the various members that made the facility an evening home of sorts each night for several weeks.) The whole ghost experience took on a whole new feel stepping back into a venue so soon after strike.

But new it was, and I was there to start A Christmas Carol. Which we did. Most efficiently, (especially when compared to some of the Thurber rehearsals...) This version, as I have mentioned, is written by Michael Paller, and as such includes a prologue, and an opening scene in which Dickens himself and his friends are actual characters in Dickens' attic. They have gathered to perform the story themselves. It was this initial scene in the attic, which sets up the telling of the classic Christmas tale, which we blocked on Wednesday.

It has it's own set of ghosts attached to it, and I don't mean of Christmas Past. More of Shows Past. Given that I did this play in this same venue two years ago. (And I have never performed the same script twice, until now.) Plus I hear my previous character's lines being read during the scene, and they sound familiar to me, though I am not delivering them myself. But my current lines are also familiar, as I remember a friend of mine delivering them the first time. Thankfully, the room in which to work is not such a reminder of the past; we have more space available to us, both on stage and off stage, than we did for the 2008 version.

As I mentioned last week, I don't plan to get into the same sort of details as I blog about this production as I might for a show to which I was coming in cold. I hope to dedicate posts to the details which make this one different from the last one. And also to some aspects of performing this story that sometimes get missed when I blog.

Nor do I plan to spend much time comparing it to the last one. It is its own creature, despite there being some of the same cast mates involved. (None of whom are playing the same roles as before.)

I can say though that I have a bit more mental time/energy to dedicate to nuance this time around. We are not physically building the theatre this time as we rehearse, after all. So I will be researching into my base character a bit more, in hopes of finding some sort of detail or quirk that would be useful. I will also begin working on different voices for my four characters. Time to pay attention to public televisions Brit-coms again. (Which I often watch anyway.)

I also won't get bogged down in the play within a play aspect of this. Though the concept dictates that my character Frederick Dickens, will be himself portraying characters, I won't be trying to convey that. I will simply be portraying whatever character any given scene calls for, and committing to that totally. (Unless that doesn't fit with the overall vision this director has.) In other words, I will be Old Joe, not Frederick playing Old Joe. That is what I did the last time, and I see no reason to deviate from that.

The director will be out of town for about a week, and though rehearsals will be similar to those of Thurber, (Sundays, Wednesdays and Thursdays for this show), we will not meet again until this coming Thursday. I'll have some extra time to go over lines, and ponder some of these details I mentioned. Such ponderings will of course go up here.

And so, the Christmas Creep begins, as does a whole new production.