Much Ado at the Illinois Shakespeare Festival is going well. We’ve teched in the outdoor space and are moving quickly toward dress rehearsals, preview, and indoor space tech. Working in a repertory company for the first time has presented new challenges - like having a week between third tech and first dress so the other shows can tech.
Yet, the most interesting situations continue to come from doing Much Ado twice in a row with two different companies. There have been moments where one of my ASMs asks a question in passing about when a character enters, or the number of a certain scene, and I have to step back and rethink the automatic answer that has clearly come from a different production. I must say, the looks on my ASMs' faces during an early team meeting as I started talking about scene 4.1 when our version ends at 2.9 were pretty funny.
I’ve also been very grateful for a team that proofreads carefully so I can be confident that nowhere in a report has my memory sneaked Cassie into a mention of Margaret instead of Jack (in case you haven’t heard - ISF is doing an original practices, all male cast for Much Ado).
On the fun side, I did find myself smiling during tech whenever I would use a familiar line in the script as a standby marker.
Yet, nothing has made me so grateful for the Much Ado doubling as what happened yesterday.
Due to the time war of primary rehearsals, secondary rehearsals, and transportation schedules, I found myself in the main rehearsal hall, with most of the cast, on my own. At one point during scene work, I was updating new blocking, solidifying the schedule for the next day, and answering a question from my boss.
And then, an actor called line.
Without thinking about it, without looking at the script, without missing a beat, I gave the line, word for word, from memory. And the scene moved forward.
True, I was concerned afterward as I checked that I had indeed given the correct line. And true, memory is in no way my preferred source for prompting. Yet, any moment I can continue to push a rehearsal forward instead of stalling the process is a good day in my book.
Plus, the look I got from one of the actors not currently in the scene was priceless.
Yet, the most interesting situations continue to come from doing Much Ado twice in a row with two different companies. There have been moments where one of my ASMs asks a question in passing about when a character enters, or the number of a certain scene, and I have to step back and rethink the automatic answer that has clearly come from a different production. I must say, the looks on my ASMs' faces during an early team meeting as I started talking about scene 4.1 when our version ends at 2.9 were pretty funny.
I’ve also been very grateful for a team that proofreads carefully so I can be confident that nowhere in a report has my memory sneaked Cassie into a mention of Margaret instead of Jack (in case you haven’t heard - ISF is doing an original practices, all male cast for Much Ado).
On the fun side, I did find myself smiling during tech whenever I would use a familiar line in the script as a standby marker.
Yet, nothing has made me so grateful for the Much Ado doubling as what happened yesterday.
Due to the time war of primary rehearsals, secondary rehearsals, and transportation schedules, I found myself in the main rehearsal hall, with most of the cast, on my own. At one point during scene work, I was updating new blocking, solidifying the schedule for the next day, and answering a question from my boss.
And then, an actor called line.
Without thinking about it, without looking at the script, without missing a beat, I gave the line, word for word, from memory. And the scene moved forward.
True, I was concerned afterward as I checked that I had indeed given the correct line. And true, memory is in no way my preferred source for prompting. Yet, any moment I can continue to push a rehearsal forward instead of stalling the process is a good day in my book.
Plus, the look I got from one of the actors not currently in the scene was priceless.