A Touch of the Supernatural

"And death shall have no dominion.
Dead men naked they shall be one
With the man in the wind and the west moon;
When their bones are picked clean and the clean bones gone,
They shall have stars at elbow and foot;
Though they go mad they shall be sane,
Though they sink through the sea they shall rise again
Though lovers be lost love shall not;
And death shall have no dominion."

-Dylan Thomas

A dusty old house: cloth covering the imperial furniture, cobwebs draped on portraits and candelabras, through decaying french doors an image of the rustic English countryside. The house is mostly quiet, with the dust and soot of three centuries accumulating on the picture frames. But in this manor there is yet a spark of life . . . a whispering up and down the corridor . . . a door slams, a dish breaks, the housekeeper squeals and through the threshold of the door comes a monstrous figure, towering at an improbably height, with a grimace and a moan, ridiculously dressed . . .

is it . . . GAUNT GIBEON, THE BLOODSUCKER OF BEXLEY MOOR?!?!

maybe . . . THE HUNSTMAN OF HOGSLY HEAD?!?!?!

or . . . THE VILE FISHMONGER OF CALSHOT SPIT?!?!?!

No no, Gentle Reader, it is none other than SIR SIMON, THE CANTERVILLE GHOST! And he's not scary at all. Not hardly.

And that's a good thing too, as our audience base for this show is comprised of mostly the wee ones, betwixt the ages of 4-12. And its hard enough for them to come say hello after the show since, scary or not, I'm usually the biggest person they've ever seen. Add on the sixteenth-century garb, the makeup and the mountain of baby powder, and while not precisely scary, I certainly look strange enough to be unapproachable. But with the help of their parents and a little coaxing, they usually get up the nerve to take a picture and have me sign their program.

Ah yes, these are the just desserts of our work on the fifth and last show of the season: The Canterville Ghost by Oscar Wilde. And though the tech rehearsals were the most compressed of the whole process, it certainly felt like a week's worth of work was packed into that short amount of time.

We had just opened Pericles, but instead of a Saturday sleep in, it was right back to rehearsal for Canterville. Sunday too, with a 9am call after a two show day. Now at this point we had all been in tech rehearsals for four weeks running. And it was starting to catch up with us. Add on the fact that we went through the adventure of Pericles and shows all weekend, without a day off and then launched right into tech rehearsals (long, tedious, grueling) for Canterville, and we were all sagging on Sunday. But the best part for me, was my costume:

tights
pumpkin pants (hip-flaring, striped knickers with an interior thigh strap for extra-thigh-hug. Made of heavy-duty canvas)
undershirt
doublet (a renaissance jacket, made of thick canvas, velvet and other dubious fabrics)
ruff (think frilly collar worn by Shakespeare)
makeup
feathered cap

. . . so while I looked great, it was kind of like being strapped into a form-fitting suit of armor made out of canvas (read: stifling) that lets absolutely NO heat or moisture escape. They put me on stage under the lights (read: sauna) and after the first hour I was swooning. It didn't help that I was already tired and exhausted from the month of tech rehearsals, but I did my best. Halfway through our six hour rehearsal that day I was a royal Grumpo-potamus Rex. I did my best not to talk to anyone that afternoon, since I was incapable of being pleasant. By the end of it, we had gotten the show mostly teched (lights, sound cues and props in place) and we all went to lay low before that evening's performance of Pericles.

When I opened my doublet in the dressing room, a veritable fog of dampness escaped, and it felt as if I had just been released from a swamp into the air conditioning. Gross, I know. But there you have it. Sometimes acting is an dirty business.

That night, there was a toga party in honor of Pericles scheduled to take place at the "Camp" (the lovely lakeside cottage) where Tor and Gene and James are being housed for the summer. As fun as it sounded, I was in sad shape, and all too happy to skip the party and take the night train to Winktown.

But as far as I can surmise, the toga party was a big hit:





Togas Sunday night, and an epic sleep-in for everyone on Monday. Not a lot of action around Monmouth on our day off. We were either recovering from the party (and the equally epic Toga Twister that was played:

. . . or in my case, resting up and preparing for the opening of Canterville Ghost the next day. Tuesday came and with it an early final dress rehearsal. It was a good thing too, since it showed us all the holes in our game plan we had not had a chance to fix on Sunday. The run was rough, but as they say in showbusiness: A bad dress rehearsal=a great performance .

And so it was! At 2:00 on Tuesday the house was teeming with the young and the young at heart. We played to a capacity crowd and it went very well.

The kids loved the show, and the adults seemed to as well. Afterward we signed autographs in the parking lot and drank sparkling apple cider backstage to celebrate (thanks Liz!) and then it was up to change the set over to Is He Dead which was performing that night.

Since I was not in that production, I was looking forward to a relaxing evening of dinner, a swim, and settling in with a good fantasy novel. I had not allowed myself much escapist fiction over the summer, as we were in work mode the entire time. But now that the season was officially open, rehearsals over, I decided to indulge. I had dinner, dipped in the lake (no doubt leaving a pool of whiteness behind me as the baby powder washed out) and then snuggled up in a chair at the dining hall to watch the sunset and read my boo----

ZZZZZZZZZzzzzzz . . . SNORE . . . zzzzzzZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzz!

I was out like a light. I fell asleep at 6:15 and did not wake up for three hours. My body had taken over and grabbed the rest it had been missing. But it was certainly a nice way to spend the evening.

That Tuesday was our first day of running with the entire season open. The rest of the week consisted of us running two shows per day and changing the set over . . . but no rehearsals or techs. Which means we are all able to stay up late, sleep in late, and basically just be actors full time. It blissful.

Thursday's performance of Canterville was jam-packed. They had to set up seats in the aisles to accommodate everyone. Interestingly enough though, they were a much quieter crowd than the opening on Tuesday. You could tell that the kids had all had the "YOU-WILL-BEHAVE-YOURSELVES-AND-NOT-MAKE-A-PEEP-THIS-IS-THE-THEATRE!!!!!" Talk from their sponsors. Kind of sad really, but all the same I think the kids enjoyed the show.

The changeovers into Canterville Ghost are the least strenuous, since the show has the least amount of scenery. One of the most striking set pieces is the painting of Sir Simon that is hanging stage left. It was painted by Dan Bilodeau, the scenic designer for the season, based on a photo we had taken of me in the costume a week before. Dan did a brilliant job with the painting, and it really sets the mood of the show.

The best part is that with a little theatre magic, the painting goes from a sad-face Sir Simon . . . to a happy-face Sir Simon at the end of the show. Its a big hit with the kids, as it is revealed in the last scene that the painting has changed.

With even the painting's mood being lifted, there's clearly not a legitimate scare to be had in Canterville Ghost. And so should it be. Its a delightful little piece about friendship and redemption, even if Mr. Wilde would not recognize it now. The original was much darker, with Sir Simon murdering his wife and getting locked up in his own basement and starved to death. There was romance and high adventure and all sorts of other late-Victorian flourishes. Be that as it may, our version is certainly an action-packed forty-five minutes, with laughs all around.

The season is in full swing and the spirits in Monmouth could not be higher. This is the part of the summer we have all been waiting for and it feels great to be here.

With Regards From Canterville Chase,

Sir Simon