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.
Luv,
SGS
Another wonderful post.
ReplyDeleteMakes me all misty.
Thanks Santy Claus...
ReplyDeleteMiss you too, bud.