All's Well That Finally Ends . . .

"Our revels now are ended. These our actors
As I foretold you, were all spirits and
Are melted into air, into thin air:
And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit shall dissolve
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded
Leave not a wrack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on, and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep. "

-The Tempest Act 4, Scene 1

Yes friends, our time in Monmouth has drawn to a close. The last two weeks were jam-packed with performances and extra-curricular events. Thanks to the genius of our production manager Daniel Thompson we all had a lot more downtime this summer. See normally we non-equity performers are responsible for changing over the set between each show. This means at least two hours a day (on top of our two-show per day load) of tech work. Enter Daniel, who cleverly devised a system splitting the entire ensemble into three changeover teams, meaning each company member only had changeover duty twice per week, instead of twice per day. The result: a lot more free time for everyone, and a lot more efficiency and positivity in the changeovers themselves. I think I speak for the company when I send a huge THANK YOU to Daniel. Well done sir, well done.


And we all certainly made the most of it: from time in the hot tub well spent to impromptu croquet parties to mountain-conquering, we left no stone uncovered here in the northern frontier.


The high adventure has also not been limited to the great outdoors however. We've had a couple of surprises on stage as well. The first one was two weeks ago right in the middle of our run of King Lear, when a pair of bats made their way into the theater. They were flying about madly, trying to find the exit; but it seems the force of Shakespeare's poetry resounding off the walls must have been interfering with their sonar, because they were only capable of flying back and forth from the balcony to the proscenium and back again. The audience of course was watching this with interest and trying hard not to laugh. Not exactly the atmosphere you want to set in the western world's greatest tragedy. It was mid-way through the second act when this started happening, and Bill (King Lear) was in the middle of his scene with Edgar and Gloucester where he's spouting nonsense and grappling with his sanity. It just so happened that when the bat made a bee-line for the back wall, flying directly over the top of the trio of actors, causing them all to duck and the audience to gasp, Shakespeare had supplied Bill with the perfect retort. He gestured toward the bat and said his next line:

"Well flown bird of the air!"

. . .which brought the house down. We in the dressing room had no idea why the most thunderous laughter of the season had just rang out in the middle of a tragedy, and only found out later about the perfectly matched up line. In the play Lear is referring to an imaginary arrow in his madness-induced state. But it surely made for a magical moment in the theater.


The next week we had a similarly serendipitous experience during Much Ado. The light board had been malfunctioning all night, which first manifested itself with an unexpected blackout in the middle of Beatrice & Benedick's duet scene after the wedding. The lights came back on after about twenty seconds, but it was still a big glitch. That of course put everyone on edge, and since we were already past intermission there was nothing we could do but hope it would not happen again. We had made it all the way up to the final scene of the play without another incident, and then right as the play was wrapping up, the lights cut out again after Don Pedro reacts in amazement to Hero's reappearance. Sure enough after about three seconds the lights came back on, and I had the next line which miraculously was:

"All this amazement can I qualify . . ."

Which of course drew an enormous laugh from the house, who were delighted to have the mishap recongnized. A few lines later, Jared got yet another one in, when he said:

"Come, I will have thee, but by this light . . . (a nod and a smile to the audience, who roared again) . . . I take thee for pity."

As Bill said in the dressing room that night: Shakespeare's always there for you. It's really amazing when those things line up that way, and its one of the beauties of the live theatrical event. Certainly was a lot of fun playing with these surprises as they came along.

And one by one, the shows drew to a close starting with The Compleat Works of Shakespeare Abridged, which led the charge on Wednesday night. Then Lear on Thursday (to a sold out crowd and standing ovations), James Friday afternoon and Blithe Spirit Friday night. Saturday was a solid last matinee of Room Service and our final performance of Much Ado About Nothing that night.


Thus ends the 42nd season at the Theater at Monmouth, the 14 years of Dave Greenham's direction of the theater, and one of the best summers any of us have ever spent. I feel really blessed to have been able to return to Monmouth again and spend another summer immersed in Shakespeare, surrounded by nature, and of course in the company of such amazing and talented people. I hope you have been able to catch a little piece of the energy, passion, dedication and magic that has been radiating out of Monmouth this summer. I sure did, and will be riding this wave for a while.

Till next time, wishing all of my friends and colleagues a safe, productive and fruitful year. It was an honor and a pleasure, and I look forward to our paths crossing again very soon.


All Good Things,


Brian

A Tiny Taste of Our Marvelous Peach . . .

"And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don't believe in magic will never find it."

- Roald Dahl

Magnifico! Splendifico! Amazing! Thrilling! Tremendous! Ladies & Gentlemen . . . . James & the Giant Peach! After months of planning, and running the Monmouth gauntlet of producing five other plays simultaneously all the way to the end, James & the Giant Peach took the stage last Tuesday. Having had sixteen rehearsals, which makes it the most-rehearsed play in Theater at Monmouth history, expectations from the rest of the company were very high going into our opening performance. With only a half day of technical rehearsals and one dress rehearsal the morning of our opening, it was anybody's guess whether or not the show was even going to work.

We had begun back in June by conceptualizing the show as a circus/sideshow attraction: i.e. a huge story told by six actors with a trunk full of props and puppets, while their imagination and storytelling filled in the rest of the gaps. As we began the rehearsal process, I was overwhelmed at the amount of creativity and innovation that the actors and the designers brought to the production. What started off as a few sight gags and extra jokes around the edges, morphed into a rollicking hour-long surge of comedy and music and storytelling, with more tech & design elements than you could shake a stick at. So many in fact, that between sound and lights we had a cue every minute-in a fifty-four minute show. Needless to say Natalie, our fearless stage manager, is constantly on her toes even with the support of two assistant stage managers and two board operators.

(Natalie (SM), Xi (Lights), and Rew (Sound) hard at work in our hyper-short tech day)

Its interesting to me that the show intended for a family audience, which is always the last show of the summer to open, is often a cursory afterthought to many theaters and theater-goers. Few people realize that the work done for children is often more technical from both a design and performance perspective than any of the other work that goes on. The precision and crispness that a young audience demands, as well as their willingness to let you know if they are not having fun, makes putting on a show for these little patrons every bit as time-consuming as putting on Shakespeare for the bigger kids.

We certainly had a great time exploring many different Toy Theater elements and small-scale puppetry to solve problems of scale and large action sequences. Introducing a smaller puppet version of the peach and having the actors manipulate the object in wild ways, as well as miniature puppet-versions of some characters, gave us lots of interesting ways to tell the story, that one would otherwise not be able to encounter outside of a theater. As the director, I was most proud of these moments (the 'sharks' as popsicle-fins in the first two rows of the audience, the six different-sized peach puppets, the underwater sequence with the giant octopus) that showed our audience different ways to think about the way a story is told.


But more than anything, the original music in the piece, written by our dazzlingly talented Liz Helitzer was the highlight for everyone. She came up with four original songs utilizing Roald Dahl's imaginitive text, and wove them seamlessly throughout the piece. Each one of the songs is a real ear-worm, and leaves everyone tapping their toes for hours afterward. In rehearsals we would often have the songs stuck in our heads for days, and that was just fine with us. Congrats to Liz on such a huge accomplishment, and to the actors for doing such a beautiful job of interpreting it!


It was also lovely to have my parents visiting last week, up from Texas. They were able to see all six shows in the season, and we had a fabulous day together in Boothbay Harbor, where we went whale-watching and ate very well. Glad to have you guys here!



Now the whole season is up and running, and we Monmouthians have been getting some much-needed rest! August is of course the part of the summer that we look forward to the most, since all rehearsals, technical or otherwise, are over with and we are just acting. Its a real privilege to spend these last weeks enjoying the dog days of summer and performing twice a day. And though the summer is coming slowly to a close, there are plenty of adventures left to be had!

(Cast, Crew, Design & Directing Team of James & the Giant Peach!)

Yours,

BBell

Thy Life Is A Miracle!

"I'll speak prophecy ere I go:
When priests are more in word than matter,
When brewers mar their malt with water,
When nobles are their tailors' tutors,
No heretics burn'd, but wenches' suitors.
When every case in law is right,
No squire in debt, nor no poor knight,
When slanders do not live in tongues,
Nor cutpurses come not to throngs,
When usurers tell their gold i' the field,
And bawds and whores do churches build.
Then comes the time who lives to see't . . . "

-King Lear, Act 3 Scene 6



Lear! Lear is finally upon us! The whole summer long we have been building towards this most excellent tragedy, and last week we pulled out all the stops and heaved it to its feet. What a task! What a play! What an enormous company of actors, technicians and support staff does it take to raise such a production! It took all hands on deck and then some, and even a little help from the elements. The week started off cloudy, and we headed back to Dave & Donna Shaw's for another day at the lake to unwind. Although the weather was less than ideal, we did get a few hours of sunshine, and used them as best we could:

Thanks again to the Shaws!

It was a subdued Monday however, as we all had this colossal play on our minds. Contrary to previous weeks in which our tech rehearsals seemed to drag on and we worried about lines . . . this tech process seemed to fly by. This time around we were worried by much more than lines: the text alone is not the greatest hurdle in producing Lear, but rather the enormity of the events, the improbable heights to which the language soars, the depth and richness of the imagery. Also the brutality and violence of the play makes rehearsing some scenes nauseating for everyone on stage, not to mention the audience. It takes everything every one of us has to even do the play justice, much less do it well. Add on top of that a rather nasty ear infection that I received Monday night, and I was swimming deliriously through tech in a haze of poetry and penicillin.


And before we knew it, we were all emerging from one haze or another as the show was going up on Friday. With something like two full run throughs (both of them sketchy) before opening, there were a host of worries that we all had going into the premiere performance. To add to the tension, a storm was moving into Monmouth right around the time the curtain was rising. Which, in a lot of ways, could not have been a better metaphor for the rough-and-tumble process that Lear had been. As Bill said, putting up King Lear in ten rehearsals is madness; but then again, putting up Lear at all is somewhat mad. Its a play about madness, and so toweringly complex that anyone who tackles it has to have a little bit of crazy in them.

Luckily, we here at Monmouth are not daunted by a little (or a lot) of crazy. We say: BRING IT ON! And boy howdy, it was brought. We all threw everything we had at the opening night performance, and for two and a half hours the misadventures of the Lunatic King and his deceptive daughters raged across the boards at Cumston Hall. When the final scene was played out, and Lear and his daughters lay arrayed in death at the foot of the stage, we held our breath as the lights dimmed. Sure enough, we were met with a wall of applause, peppered in with bravos, and were greeted with a standing ovation when the lights came back up. Somehow, we had made it through this most difficult of plays and the audience had too; it was a glorious night for all.


Over the weekend we settled in to the run of the show and started finding moments we could deepen, and mine for more meaning throughout the play. The houses continued to be very warm as were even the critics: read the Portland Journal's glowing review here.

All of which was a fitting button on the end of Dave Greenham's directorship here at TAM. I'm sure as the crowds and accolades roll in, he's the proudest papa of all.

Though Bill van Horn also has reason enough to be smiling himself to sleep every night. He has climbed the summit of Shakespeare's toughest role and come back down the mountain alive. Hat's off Bill, you deserve it!


Now that all the mainstage shows are off and running, its just our last production, James & the Giant Peach, that we have left to hear from. And hear of it you shall! Till next time, I'll leave you with another beautiful taste of the fool's quality:

"Have more than thou showest,
Speak less than thou knowest,
Lend less than thou owest,
Ride more than thou goest,
Learn more than thou trowest,
Set less than thou throwest;
Leave thy drink and thy whore,
And keep in-a-door,
And thou shalt have more
Than two tens to a score"

-King Lear, Act 1 Scene 4

Foolishly yours,

Brian

A High Class Affair

"Let's drink to the spirit of gallantry and courage . . . and let's drink to the hope that one day this country of ours, which we love so much, will find dignity and greatness and peace again."

-Noel Coward

(This quote dedicated to Capitol Hill. Here's
hoping they reach an agreement.)

After all the hustle, bustle and excitement of Room Service, the whole company was delighted to take a daytrip into Portland on our day off that Monday. Under the guise of a Portland Sea Dogs baseball game, a small group of Monmouthians had been planning on heading to city since June. As we got closer to the date, it became clear that almost everyone in the company was interested in a taste of city air, and so Monday morning we caravanned the fifty-five minutes down the interstate to begin our various adventures.

For a solid quarter of us that adventure started at a delectable Portland restaurant: Duck Fat. This local eatery is renowned for frying things in, you guessed it, duck fat. Principally french fries, which they serve to you in a cone with a host of delicious dipping sauces. We also had excellent panini, while for me the highlight was the home-made mint and lime soda. The perfect cool, crisp compliment to the heavy fare. We left the restaurant with all of our senses thoroughly sated.



Next stop was Dustin Tucker's lovely apartment across town. He had an open house all afternoon, and let the various TAM company members wander by as we finished our respective meals or coffees or shopping or combinations of all three. We all had a beautiful time unwinding in the comfortable and classy surroundings of Dusty's lovely abode. Thanks again Dusty!


After that the group dispersed a bit into pockets of strollers, shoppers and baseball fans. Some of us went to the Old Port, some to the Sea Dogs, and others went restaurant hopping, trying to make the most of Portland's impressive culinary offerings.



My personal favorite was a local biergarten called Novare Res, which had delicious appetizers and some of the best beers I've ever had. My recommendation is the Smuttynose Old Dog Brown Ale. Best brown ale I've ever tasted.

Whether dining or shopping or baseball=ing, we all had a very restful and relaxing day. It was so wonderful to be surrounded by the sights and sounds of a city after six weeks in rural Maine. Certainly made me realize yet again, that although I enjoy a stay in the country, I am a City Mouse through and through.

The week went by steadily, with many company members taking it easy and those of us on my crew having some solid rehearsals for James & the Giant Peach. James is coming along very well and I could not be more excited about opening it on August 2nd! More on that soon.

But for seven stalwart company members the week was anything but relaxing. They were in the throws of mastering Noel Coward's delightful comedy: Blithe Spirit. And though the cast members later told us that they were every bit as uncertain as we had been about Room Service, when opening night came we certainly could not tell. The show went very well Friday night, and was filled with charm and plenty of high-class English pomp. The trick to this play of course is that the first act is pretty much just exposition. It sets up the relationships of the two principal characters, the married couple Charles & Ruth Condamine. Paul & Denise, our Condamines this summer, did a splendid job of playing off one another, with Denise taking just enough of her witticisms out to the audience to keep us in on the jokes. By the time Ambien came out as the ghostly ex-wife to terrorize the living characters, a much-needed wave of laughter erupted from the packed house. Once the audience knew that the absurdity had begun, the tone was set and everybody settled in to a delightful trip from British high society through the supernatural.





Watching Blithe Spirit last Friday, I had to think of Misalliance, the Shaw piece we performed last year here in Monmouth. Both Coward and Shaw had a genius for arming their characters with exactly the right thing to say to the right person at the right moment. Dialogue between characters is lightning-quick, extremely elevated and the wit is drier than a snail in the salt flats. The ease and elegance with which these characters move through polite society, and the absurd circumstances they always find themselves in while attempting to maintain their poise never ceases to leave me delighted. Since upper crust Brits from the early 20th century are in short supply these days there are a few rules for playing these types of characters: the actor must have a sophisticated facility with language, they must be able to wear clothes well, and it is impossible to do with the under-25 set (so says Jon Jory). Its a tough recipe to get right. But when it falls into place, there is a trace of real glamour there, a taste of a time and place more cultivated and charming than reality ever could be.What a pleasure it is to spend two hours in such company.

After three very different comedies, we are heading into tragic territory this week with one of the greatest pieces of western literature. King Lear opens soon, but that is a tale for another time. Till then, I'll leave you with one of Master Coward's epigrams:

"It is discouraging how many people are shocked by honesty and how few by deceit."

-Noel Coward

Indeed.

-BBell

Race to the Finish!

"Nobody should try to play comedy unless they have a circus going on inside."

-Ernst Lubitsch

(Act 2 of Room Service)

In any season there is always a show that refuses to flow nicely through rehearsals into opening night. Truth be told, very few shows flow nicely at all, its much more like a knock down drag out fight to the finish in the best of circumstances. But now and again there is always the show that surprises even hearty theatre folk like us with its hidden complexity. Room Service, the show we opened last Friday night, is just such a piece. Looking at our season this summer (2 Shakespeares, a Noel Coward piece and a tech-heavy Roald Dahl) you would never guess that the crusty old comedy from the 30's would be the one to give us so much trouble.

But oh what trouble it gave us! It must have been a combination of us actors underestimating the time it would take to memorize it, as well as the lack of an audience to test the jokes on, plus a mountain of costume issues, costume changes, and just getting used to costumes; however you slice it, our tech rehearsals last week were a hot mess. The script is almost entirely dialogue, with much of it ending in elipses or cutoffs or repetition of previous character's stories, information, and whereabouts. This repetition, we knew, is where the comedy would lie. Eventually. But we had to get there first. And what a rocky road it was . . .

After our ten out of twelve rehearsal day last Tuesday, the entire company was pretty low. The four principle actors were having to call line all the time, and when the prompter gave them the text, the actor felt like an idiot because more often than not it was a line they had already said, or a simple phrase or question, like: "What?" or "you don't say?" or "Wait!" or something. A typical block of text in this play you see, looks like this:

"Wag: Oh, well . . . may as well notify the police.

Mil: I . . . uh . . .is that necessary?

Wag: It's the law.

Mil: But . . . if we could arrange . . . uh . . .

Wag: Arrange what?

Mil: Well, uh . . . if the body wasn't found in the hotel proper . . .

Wag: Mmmmmm . . . naturally it would help us, if we could avoid . . .

Bin: We could dump him in an alley.

Wag: Oh no . . . no . . . that's---"

That's twelve ellipses, three dashes, four 'uh's, two 'oh's and a 'well' in only nine lines.

Not exactly the kind of thing that sticks in your brain. For Jared Delaney, our leading man who is on stage in this show for almost the entirety of three acts (there are three scenes he's not in, none of them more than two minutes long), it became the actor's nightmare: he was stuck on stage, with unbelievably repetitive texts, a phone constantly ringing upstage and an endless host of characters marching on stage asking ridiculous things of him, constantly raising the stakes. At intermission of our runthrough on Wednesday, Jared came backstage pale-faced. When I asked him how the first act, his replied:

"Every scene is a fresh hell."

And went directly back to his script to study act two. Jared was not alone in his constant fear; Bill Van Horn shared the angst, as did Dusty, Paul, Dennis and David the other principles. The six of them could be found during every break, intermission and lunch hour furiously running lines, talking about scenes and trying to keep track of exits, props and gags. I asked Bill during our final rehearsal Thursday afternoon:

"How's the show going Bill?"

"Well, its a narrow road with no guard rails . . ."

Then we had a preview Thursday evening, and we started to find surer ground. The house was small, but they laughed! And we started to get a feel for the pace of things. Many of us started to feel a little more sure of the comedic bits we were running . . . but Bill admitted to having improvised most of act three, and he was not alone. The principles were still sweating bullets.

While they went home that night to study the script and get some sleep, the rest of the company took a much-needed break from Room Service and headed to Augusta for the midnight showing of Harry Potter & the Deathly Hallows Part 2. It was the final installment of the Harry Potter franchise and we went dressed to impress.





Each of us had chosen a Hogwarts House and we came attired accordingly. Highlights included Sam's Hedwig the Owl costume, Coleman's Hufflepuff Fanboy outfit, and of course, Ian's Dead Dobby (complete with knife stuck in his chest) that was a fittingly ironic attire for the end of an era.

We got to the sold-out theater an hour early, entertained ourselves with insane amounts of popcorn and entertained the other patrons with a wand duel betwixt Steph Garrett and myself. The film was fabulous, the company equally so, and we all said goodbye to HP in fine fashion.




Friday had come and the opening of Room Service was upon us. Backstage before the curtain went up we were all eyeing each other nervously. The pre-show speech concluded, the lights went up, Jared went on stage and we in the dressing room we held our breath and listened to the monitors. A few minutes into the show and there was a hearty laugh from the audience. Then another. Then another! The house was hot, and all through the first act, the jokes were killing==and everyone was remembering their lines.

During the first intermission the dressing room was tense and focused. We were buyoed by the positive response, but we all knew that acts two and three were the hard bits. But sure enough, by the time I got on stage in the middle of act two, the play was rolling along fine. Sure we did not hit every single line, and there were a few delayed entrances, but the play was moving forward and the audience was eating it up. During the second intermission we were all hesitantly optimistic. The principles ran a few more problem-scenes and drilled the dialogue before heading out to close the piece.

Forty minutes later, the play was over, we were bowing and the audience was elated. We could not believe how smooth it had gone! The jubilation in the dressing room was out of control! Backs were clapped, hands were shook, and the entire cast did a round of shots. I genuinely believe everyone was surprised at how well the show went. I overheard Paul and Jared:

"Paul, sorry about that Moose line.

"Its okay! I knew it was one that you usually don't remember, and I saw it in your eyes that it wasn't coming, so I was ready for it. "

It had been a very, very close call but we had managed to get it together. For a glimpse of the action:

Room Service Video

The rest of the weekend went well, though not quite as exuberant as opening. However, we were quite happy to settle in to a more manageable pace for the show. And happy that we had somehow gotten all the words out. Who knows what will happen when it comes back into the repertoire next week! But whatever happens, I know it will be a ton of fun. Speaking of, Blithe Spirit opens tomorrow! More adventures on the way.

Frenziedly Yours,

Brian

The World Must Be Peopled

"Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more,
Men were deceivers ever,
One foot in sea, and one on shore,
To one thing constant never.
Then sigh not so, but let them go,
And be you blithe and bonny,
Converting all your sounds of woe
Into hey nonny nonny."

-Much Ado About Nothing, Act 2 Scene iii



Summer is in full swing in Monmouth, and the season is open! Last Friday we brought Much Ado About Nothing to the stage in swinging style, but that was far from the only event of last week. It started off with a bang as I received a visit from my good friend Katja from Berlin. She arrived that Saturday in time to catch the Black Fly Follies. It was so great to see her, and to spend some time with her in my country (for a change), and to show her the sights and sounds of New England. She was also able to show me some of them, as she was staying at a local bed and breakfast called the Annabessacook Farm. I joined her there for dinner that Sunday night and boy am I glad I did!

The Annabessacook Farm is owned by Craig & Job, two lovely gentlemen who farm the place and also create an incredibly warm, relaxing atmosphere for their guests. They also set a wondrous table, and after Katja gave me a tour of the farm (goats, sheep, chickens, pigs, lots of veggies) we went inside for what turned out to be a deceptively simple, delicious meal. We started off with an appetizer of home-made (organic) goat cheese, made entirely from ingredients on the farm. Their milking goat, named Con Leche (natsch!) produces a gallon of milk each day, which they use to create cheese and other delicacies. It was easily the freshest cheese I'd ever had, and one of the best. We devoured a small wheel of it and as we were relishing that, Craig brought out another and said that dinner would be ready soon. So much goodness!

The entire farm is organic, and Craig (who among other talents is a chef, a writer and a board member of TAM) uses everything on the farm, letting nothing go to waste. No chemical fertilizers or foreign agents of any kind. Just home-grown goodness. That night he served up hearty collard greens he had grown himself, black rice seasoned to perfection, and easily the best salmon I had ever had. Ever. Between Katja and Job (orig. from Holland), Craig, Ian and I, we had a delightful dinner together and plenty of conversation. The evening was a comfort for mind, body, and soul. If anybody is interested in coming to Monmouth this summer, I can recommend the Annabessacook Farm B&B without hesitation. Thanks again Craig & Job!


Monday brought the fourth of July, our nation's birthday and the first decent weather of the last ten days. We lucked out, not only with the weather but also with the fact that Dave & Donna Shaw were hosting our 4th of July party at their beautiful home this year. It was a holiday party as most of us can only dream of: a gorgeous house on a hilltop, overlooking the lake with beachfront access. Canoes, kayaks, a motorboat and kneeboards, even a jetski. If there was a summery pastime, we were partaking. And of course the spread was majestic: burgers and sausage and hot dogs and an endless array of salads. Desserts and drinks and great conversations, exactly what we needed on our day off.



We even managed to get Clenton Hollinger on a jetski. This was after he proclaimed at the top of the summer he would not set foot in the lake; seemed to unsanitary. Imagine our surprise when we saw he and Allison speeding away on the jetski. We've come a long way baby.


Also imagine our dismay when we saw the jetski capsized in the middle of the Lake and Clenton, unable to reboard the machine, having to be rescued by the motor boat! Ah well, it was a glorious two minutes. Baby steps, as they say.


But the party continued, and after six hours or so, not a one of us were able to eat any more food or swim any more, so we decided to head over to Winthrop for the fireworks. They were lovely and I think we gave Katja the full American experience that day, before she had to head back to Berlin last Tuesday. Thanks again Dave & Donna for a wonderful day, you're the best!

Tuesday it was back to work! We had our 10 out of 12 technical rehearsal for Much Ado About Nothing, which went quite smoothly. In fact all of rehearsals that week went remarkably smoothly. We were basically just running the show by Wednesday, which is about twenty-four hours earlier than we ever get a show together with this short of a rehearsal period. But the pieces fell into place and we were all pretty confident going into our preview last Thursday night. It was of course different having an audience in the room (in this case a large contingent of high school students, who were great!) and we started adjusting to the laughs and inserting pauses accordingly.



Friday brought opening night of the 42nd season at the Theater at Monmouth. In accordance with tradition, one of our youngest company members, Ian Kramer, recited Hamlet's welcome to the players and did so masterfully. Directly afterward, Dave tapped the staff three times on stage to officially open his last season as producing director, and the show began. Despite the seemingly smooth tech process and a solid preview, the premiere was anything but gentle. There were a lot more laughs thanks to our savvy opening-night audience (who, it may be said, have a facility and appreciation for Shakespeare that may not have been shared by the high schoolers the night before) which meant we were adjusting our performance accordingly. All that extra energy also led to some flubs; like when one of the watch's billy clubs flew end over end into the audience and Bill Van Horn chided the nearest audience member without missing a beat. Or when a Benedick entrance was missed, due to a scramble of line-memorizing for our next play, as well as faulty speakers in the dressing room which made the action on stage hard to hear.

In these moments and others our opening night audience got a taste of live theatre at its best: raw, exciting, and a little improvised. But at the same time, its this direct communication with the audience, the small slip-ups and interactive moments, that the audiences are coming to see in the first place. All's well that ends well of course, and at the reception after the show our audience and our colleagues toasted a job well done, and the newly opened season.

Something else I noticed while rehearsing this play, is that some of the texts were borrowed for the lyrics of one of my favorite songs of the year. "Sigh No More" by Mumford & Sons, is the lead track off of their wildly successful debut album of the same name. Almost all of the text of that particular song come from the play Much Ado About Nothing, a fact I never realized until we were rehearsing it. My love for this band has grown even more, which I did not think was possible. And as happenstance would fashion it, Miss Janet McWilliams happened to make another compilation video of the last ten days, and set it to this very song. Check it out here, and enjoy.

We are currently in the thick of rehearsals for Room Service, our second play which opens this Friday! More on that and many other fine deviations when we catch up next week.

"For man is a giddy thing, and this is my conclusion,"


BBell