Well....it happens everytime I close a show. The day after the obligatory Monday off, the Tuesday evening rolls around and I start to feel a loss...something is supposed to be happening at this time...why isn't it?
Another thing that frequently happens to me after close of a show...I am starting to nurse a cold. So is Matt, in response. A cold in a heatwave. No fun.
As I walked dogs in the 110 heat index temps, I became delirious and a little bit sun stroked. My mind drifted to the past 2 months of theatrical life lessons.
Assassins is a tricky show, you see. It seems very shiny and bright and funny on the surface. Full of jokes and cakewalks...behind that deceptive surface lies a disturbing core of sadness.
When I started the run of this show, I saw it, but paid no attention, preferring to concentrate on my own show; (lyrics/intentions/dance steps/volume).
As the show went on, I started to live in it, like you do. This place became more and more dark. It started to affect me. I know it had its toll on Matt as well.
One of the last audiences we had laughed at the close of "Unworthy of Your Love", in a moment that I view as ANYTHING but funny, and I had to hold myself from screaming at the audience..."How dare you laugh at this?". Now...this was irrational behavior on my part, I know. But I was SO sucked into the world of this piece that I wanted to jump up and defend these sick characters who I cared for so much.
Now. Before I get a flood of e-mails...no, I do not support their actions, but I care for them all until the moment that they pull the trigger. Why? Because they ARE us. I can identify certain aspects of my life with almost all of the characters in the show. You can too, if you think about it. (Bear in mind that I had about 3 months to think about it.)
I learned so much through this experience. I battled volume issues every night of the show because I had to find the sweet spots in the house, and learn how to balance my voice against these. I also had to master trajectory of sound, as to where to aim my head as I sung. The configuration of the set was such that I had never seen, and I took some time to warm into it.
I learned concentration. To the billionth degree. The ability to sustain energy of that kind for a ten minute scene. I appreciated the opportunity to live in Lee Harvey for awhile, but am glad that I am letting him go. I sent back my Netflix DVD's of research about him, and finished a book about his mother yesterday. I am sending them all back, and I need not revisit them. One can get too close to negative energy sometimes. It can take someone to a bad place. I started to get there.
I will miss every person attached to this project.
I got the honor of working with Joe Calarco for the first time, and I am so grateful for that. He chose a bold and daring path for this show, and never looked back, and my hat is way high his show was a leap of faith that was masterfully pulled off. A Coup de'Theatre was committed every single night.
But now, as I sojourn into an August of a few weekend get-aways, and little else till the last week in August, whereupon I start My Fair Lady rehearsals, I let these memories settle and subside. I thank every single cast member, production staff member, and audience member. But as I shipped off the DVD of "A Death in Dealy Plaza", I heaved a sigh of completion. Of finality.
This was a fantastic show, and a fantastic time. And now it is time to move on.
Love to all of the ASSASSINS family.