Lately, at rehearsal, I’ve been a bit stuck. I wasn’t really sure how to move Henry forward through the plot without risking intent and vocal quality. Singing to music, and rhythms, and keeping everything in check while conveying a character on stage is tough work. It is hard to get out of my own head and stop over think everything and just let the text take over. I’ve been trying my “speaking the lyrics” exercises and they are helping immensely.
I am not a person who lets emotion fly very easily. While I admit I appear to be a crazy loon have the time, I am surprisingly in control of what I’m feeling and what I’m doing. Or, at least I feel like I am. So, I naturally suppress the impulse to let go. But with acting and especially this show it is really imperative that I do that. Henry is a surprising person to find in this bunch of people. He is oddly upbeat, and full of jokes and wit. But, above all else Henry loves to love. He loves and cares for Natalie it really hurts him when she tries to pull away and be alone. It hurts him to think what life would be like if in this world of muck and decay he didn’t have someone to share the happy moments with.
At first I thought he was a little whiny and I did resent him for it. Like an actor plying a character who he hates it showed in rehearsal. I had to find a way to let go of those first impressions, which Stanislavsky tells us are so hard to rid ourselves of (see, I have been doing my reading for Russia). The incubation period is crucial with this role and this show. We had a recent rehearsal where not much work was getting accomplished, and it was because of all the emotion that was coursing through the subtext of this show. We really just needed to,step back and assess what the heck just happened to us and figure out a way to move forward. I’m choosing to read the script everyday. I’m hoping to find something new every time I read it. This is helping in the discovery that Henry is not as dumb and “potheadish” as at first I believed him to be. *most important discovery of the day* not all marijuana smokers are “potheads”
The random paragraphs…
I am missing the back to school rush. I can’t tell you how much I am going to miss my friends and professors at school. You all mean the world tome. I hope you are all fabulous. RENT and THE HEIDI CHRONICLES are going to be amazing productions!
This may sound really odd but, RuPaul is an amazing person. He is so classy, funny, smart and caring. His insight into the human mind and how we should respond to those who belittle us is inspiring. To quote him ” if you can’t love yourself how in the hell are you going to love somebody else; can I get an amen?”
I was awoken yesterday by the mail man banging on the front door. I rushed to the door, with my pants on backwards, no shirt, hair everywhere and Alaska our friendly German Shepard terrified. After a moment of bewilderment and a possible laugh suppression. The mailman told me that we had a package at the post office that was leaking a substance. “a fine, gray dusty substance that looked like gunpowder” in my state I had no idea how to respond but I managed an ” ok….” he told me to call a number on the slip and sort it out. So. I got a drink, picked up phone, dialed and proceeded to be yelled at by the postmaster. “what is this substance leaking from your package?!?!” btw, at this point I believed the package was being sent to me… So I said, ” ma’am I have no idea, I don’t even know who sent the package to me” she said “the return address and receiving address are the same, you sent it to yourself.”. I went on to tell that I had not sent anything anywhere and certainly not to myself. And them we talked about my possible enemies and anyone who wanted to kill me… After a depressing few minutes I realized my mom was out of town and might’ve sent something home from Seattle. And then, as sudden realization was keeping over me I asked the lady what the substance was again. She said “a fine gray powder like dust or gunpowder. (sidebar) my aunt, uncle and mother traveled earlier in the week to Seattle to have a mini memorial for my grandmother who died last year and my grandfather who past away in 1978. The trip was full of the strollings down memory lane, visits to the beach and a ship ride out on Puget Sound where they would spread the ashes of my grandparents. Up until the moment I was on the phone with the lady from the postoffice I thought the spreading of the ashes memorial was successful. But then I wondered if those were the ashes of my grandmother… And I had told the story to the lady and she wondered the same thing…. And then I was horrified.. And apparently it’s a crime to send ashes in the mail so she was getting angry..very angry… And I was just getting more horrified. And then, I needed to call my mom. I thought she was at work..I was wrong. She was in her room. After a very frantic description of what happened with the mail man and the postmaster I almost tearfully asked if she sent grandma home in a box…she laughed. I was horrified even more…in the end the dusty powder were not the ashes of my deceased grandmother but the sand from a beach at the bottom of a cliff near the sound that my mom just had to get home to put in her hermit crab “crabitat.” then she got yelled at by the postmaster and all was right in the world.
^ i know that paragraph was crazy… But I didn’t want to change paragraphs and make you think I changed to another random topic
Russia is 33 days away!
Happy Birthday Marietta, one of my best friends and a wonderful woman! I hope our day is wonderful. Your semester is grand. And your BFA project is fabulous!