Well, if you expect this to be a long blog entry, think again. I've just gotten into bed after a long day which began with a line-run out at East 15 before we all decamped to Marylebone and got our first look at the theatre. It's a lovely space which has been transformed by the brilliant tech team into a playground fit for us lunatics. There was much ooh-ing and aah-ing at the set, the lights, the costumes, the make-up and each other just for fun. We teched our way through Act 1, getting as far as Jacques Roux's madcap adventures before Mike called it a day. I have to say that I got tingles every time we broke the action and I got to relax, turn around and see the wonderful sight of my fellow cast-members piled up on the back wall of our bath-house, grubby, scarred, bedraggled and brilliant. I whispered to Helen (the ever-faithful Simonne) "Doesn't that just look wicked?" She agreed. We all do. It's just wicked.
Tomorrow: Finish tech, dress rehearsal, opening night. Easy.
QUOTE OF THE DAY: "Great syrup-acting, Robbie". Dunno what it meant but it was just after Robbie had been fondling his codpiece and his extravagant toupée fell off. So it was funny.
Tuesday, 28 June 2011
Monday, 27 June 2011
Days 16 and 17: Fun Run And Sun
Ahhhh. Saturday. A day of rest. Oh no, wait...
Saturday was a day of fun for the cast of "Marat/Sade", as Mike felt a fun-run of the show would help keep it fresh and loose - two adjectives we like in this profession. It was nice to speed through the play, enjoying the characters, making fun of ourselves and each other, occasionally even finding new things we hadn't discovered already. At one point, Nico and I engaged in an "Alec Guinness-off" as we battled to see who could deliver our lines in the best Obi Wan Kenobi voice. Amazingly, a lot of the lines worked almost as well with Star Wars references as they did when referring to the French Revolution. We have decided that "Vader/Kenobi" would be a worthwhile sequel and shall be approaching George Lucas about it. To be honest, he should be approaching us - I don't know why no one has ever thought of this before. "After each pamphlet was published I had to go into hiding - on Tatooine. They came with lasers. A thousand men of the Imperial guard surrounded my house". Seamless.
Sunday was a real day of rest, and it turned out to be the hottest day of the year, closely followed by Monday when we gathered for rehearsal, men in shorts, ladies in dresses, everyone in a shiny gleam. Nico had come in an hour early to work on some things with Mike before the rest of the Merry Men arrived and it was a very steamy day all round, both weather-wise and acting-wise. There were some quick-fixes to be done on act one, keeping everything on track, while the singers tightened up songs and revised things which had become sloppy. We all reconvened shortly after midday and Mike took us through a visualisation exercise in which we imagined ourselves as the characters and plotted our mental states throughout the play. It really helped to reinforce this, like double-checking directions even though you're sure you're on the right track.
Lunch saw several of the cast indulge in ice-cream in an effort to replenish sugar supplies and keep cool, but it was still a glistening group who assembled to run the play with no set, costumes, props or air-conditioning. It was never going to be the best run ever under these circumstances - even lucky old me, topless though I was, ended up perspiring heavily, and there were dropped lines and a few bum notes. Nevertheless, it wasn't a disaster and didn't destroy confidence. We all know the show is in good shape and hopefully nothing will occur during the tech or dress to disillusion us! We go into the theatre for the first time tomorrow night which is very exciting - I keep having moments where I think "Wow - we're doing a play! HURRAH!" It's what all the training was for and now here comes the payoff.
QUOTE OF THE DAY: In a Scouse accent, "Calm down! Calm down!" The puppets in the National Assembly give Liverpulian Coulmier (played by the even more Liverpudlian Ryan) some cheeky backchat.
Saturday was a day of fun for the cast of "Marat/Sade", as Mike felt a fun-run of the show would help keep it fresh and loose - two adjectives we like in this profession. It was nice to speed through the play, enjoying the characters, making fun of ourselves and each other, occasionally even finding new things we hadn't discovered already. At one point, Nico and I engaged in an "Alec Guinness-off" as we battled to see who could deliver our lines in the best Obi Wan Kenobi voice. Amazingly, a lot of the lines worked almost as well with Star Wars references as they did when referring to the French Revolution. We have decided that "Vader/Kenobi" would be a worthwhile sequel and shall be approaching George Lucas about it. To be honest, he should be approaching us - I don't know why no one has ever thought of this before. "After each pamphlet was published I had to go into hiding - on Tatooine. They came with lasers. A thousand men of the Imperial guard surrounded my house". Seamless.
Sunday was a real day of rest, and it turned out to be the hottest day of the year, closely followed by Monday when we gathered for rehearsal, men in shorts, ladies in dresses, everyone in a shiny gleam. Nico had come in an hour early to work on some things with Mike before the rest of the Merry Men arrived and it was a very steamy day all round, both weather-wise and acting-wise. There were some quick-fixes to be done on act one, keeping everything on track, while the singers tightened up songs and revised things which had become sloppy. We all reconvened shortly after midday and Mike took us through a visualisation exercise in which we imagined ourselves as the characters and plotted our mental states throughout the play. It really helped to reinforce this, like double-checking directions even though you're sure you're on the right track.
Lunch saw several of the cast indulge in ice-cream in an effort to replenish sugar supplies and keep cool, but it was still a glistening group who assembled to run the play with no set, costumes, props or air-conditioning. It was never going to be the best run ever under these circumstances - even lucky old me, topless though I was, ended up perspiring heavily, and there were dropped lines and a few bum notes. Nevertheless, it wasn't a disaster and didn't destroy confidence. We all know the show is in good shape and hopefully nothing will occur during the tech or dress to disillusion us! We go into the theatre for the first time tomorrow night which is very exciting - I keep having moments where I think "Wow - we're doing a play! HURRAH!" It's what all the training was for and now here comes the payoff.
QUOTE OF THE DAY: In a Scouse accent, "Calm down! Calm down!" The puppets in the National Assembly give Liverpulian Coulmier (played by the even more Liverpudlian Ryan) some cheeky backchat.
Friday, 24 June 2011
Day 15: Up And Running
Today, hallelujah, oh happy day, mirabile dictu, we did our first full run of the show. The crew were in attendance to see just what the hell we've been doing with ourselves these last few weeks, as were Andrea Brooks (our acting tutor at East 15) and Colin Sell (musical supervisor for the show). It's always a formidable challenge, this type of run. The temptation is to suddenly try push too hard because suddenly there's an audience, or alternatively the nerves kick in and hamper the freedom which had previously existed. But never fear, Mike Bradwell was on hand to give us a wee pep talk before we began and helping us take a couple of minutes to find the character. And before we had time to really think too hard, we were off and running.
There were, of course, a couple of hiccups - an odd dropped line, the occasional song in the wrong key - but we got from beginning to end fully intact and the general feedback was very positive from both audience and actors. It was nice to finally experience the whole thing, to discover the thread that runs through the piece both as a whole and individually. One notable comment came as Colin suggested that Andrea didn't actually need a guitar strap for her guitar. Now, as Mike says, "The ongoing saga of the guitar strap is by now running longer than the collected works of Ibsen" - it's been a topic of debate for sometime, and so it seems we will be getting a strap, testing it and then probably not using it!
We took an early lunch and settled in for notes afterwards. Mike, in a red shirt to match the red socks poking out under his trousers, felt the show is where it needs to be right now and a lot of bits and pieces won't fully fall into place until we finally get to the Cockpit itself. The double-entendres were in full flow as he asked at one point "Ryan, what gets you off?"But that wasn't the only excitement, as Claire (Rossignol) had to leave us for an appointment with, would you believe it, an AGENT! No doubt they will sign her instantly and she'll be given her own dressing room and PA for the show next week. Fabulous. In her absence, we ran over the National Assembly scene, which is threatening to become a full-blown Spitting Image sketch, and good God it's getting harder and harder not to corpse as my colleagues become more and more adventurous and outrageous with their ad libs. Respond to what you're given, not what you expect, as we were advised. Be prepared. Dib Dib Dib!
QUOTE OF THE DAY: "You've got out of being in Oasis and you're now in The Beatles - but you're Paul McCartney and I want you to be John Lennon" - Mike Bradwell encourages Nico to push it as Sade, to which Nico responded "Yeah, and I'll leave the Ringo behind".
There were, of course, a couple of hiccups - an odd dropped line, the occasional song in the wrong key - but we got from beginning to end fully intact and the general feedback was very positive from both audience and actors. It was nice to finally experience the whole thing, to discover the thread that runs through the piece both as a whole and individually. One notable comment came as Colin suggested that Andrea didn't actually need a guitar strap for her guitar. Now, as Mike says, "The ongoing saga of the guitar strap is by now running longer than the collected works of Ibsen" - it's been a topic of debate for sometime, and so it seems we will be getting a strap, testing it and then probably not using it!
We took an early lunch and settled in for notes afterwards. Mike, in a red shirt to match the red socks poking out under his trousers, felt the show is where it needs to be right now and a lot of bits and pieces won't fully fall into place until we finally get to the Cockpit itself. The double-entendres were in full flow as he asked at one point "Ryan, what gets you off?"But that wasn't the only excitement, as Claire (Rossignol) had to leave us for an appointment with, would you believe it, an AGENT! No doubt they will sign her instantly and she'll be given her own dressing room and PA for the show next week. Fabulous. In her absence, we ran over the National Assembly scene, which is threatening to become a full-blown Spitting Image sketch, and good God it's getting harder and harder not to corpse as my colleagues become more and more adventurous and outrageous with their ad libs. Respond to what you're given, not what you expect, as we were advised. Be prepared. Dib Dib Dib!
QUOTE OF THE DAY: "You've got out of being in Oasis and you're now in The Beatles - but you're Paul McCartney and I want you to be John Lennon" - Mike Bradwell encourages Nico to push it as Sade, to which Nico responded "Yeah, and I'll leave the Ringo behind".
Thursday, 23 June 2011
Day 14: Enter Jonty
Boys oh boys, I am not gonna lie: I am one tired little actor tonight. We didn't do anything especially strenuous or active today and I spent most of it sat in my bath, but this acting lark can certainly drain you. It's a good tired though. It's the tired of people who are deep into a rehearsal process, who are slowly but surely investing more and more in their characters, who are dying for the show to be good and putting every bead of sweat into making it so. That goes for the creative team as much as the cast, a fact emphasised by the arrival of a fantastic little finger puppet for Simonne a mere day after Mike had casually remarked that it would be great if she could have "something" during the National Assembly. What arrived was more than just something and was promptly christened Jonty. Maybe my favourite moment of the whole day was looking over to Helen after running the scene and seeing that, in Marat's absence, Simonne had bandaged up Jonty instead.
Aside from the tiredness, the other thing about being so deep into rehearsals is how they all begin to blend into one another. There are things that have happened that could have been this morning or last week for all my memory seems to be able to deduce. I know the bath reappeared today, pared down and painted, and placards with revolutionary slogans were painted during the afternoon. We managed to tighten up act two, putting the finale song on its feet and then returning to act one to revisit old ground. The extra lunatics and Madame and Mademoiselle Coulmier joined us for a stagger through this evening, with the ladies discovering some nasty surprises lie in store for them during the show.
In the midst of it all, a copy of The Sun newspaper had found its way into the rehearsal room, a fact which most of us were less than thrilled about. However, it gave us all a good laugh when we saw that the page 3 girl had apparently, according to the caption, been fretting about Non-EU immigration and she even used the phrase "as my favourite poet, TS Eliot, opined...". She certainly looked very fretful, with her hand in her hair and no clothes on - she'd clearly been so worried that she forgot to dress for the photo-shoot to accompany her little opinion piece. Maybe I've misjudged The Sun and it is in fact a fine bastion of journalistic integrity which gives a voice to the silent and naked minority who express their clearly refined and researched views in a succinct manner. That, or some sub-editor was really taking the piss with that TS Eliot line.
QUOTE OF THE DAY: "That doesn't look like a cock - not to be vulgar" AND "Are we going at it semi?" - Stuart remarking on what is in fact Duperret's codpiece and then asking a perfectly innocent question about how full-on we should act but in the sort of language which set everyone else's lavatorial minds racing.
Aside from the tiredness, the other thing about being so deep into rehearsals is how they all begin to blend into one another. There are things that have happened that could have been this morning or last week for all my memory seems to be able to deduce. I know the bath reappeared today, pared down and painted, and placards with revolutionary slogans were painted during the afternoon. We managed to tighten up act two, putting the finale song on its feet and then returning to act one to revisit old ground. The extra lunatics and Madame and Mademoiselle Coulmier joined us for a stagger through this evening, with the ladies discovering some nasty surprises lie in store for them during the show.
In the midst of it all, a copy of The Sun newspaper had found its way into the rehearsal room, a fact which most of us were less than thrilled about. However, it gave us all a good laugh when we saw that the page 3 girl had apparently, according to the caption, been fretting about Non-EU immigration and she even used the phrase "as my favourite poet, TS Eliot, opined...". She certainly looked very fretful, with her hand in her hair and no clothes on - she'd clearly been so worried that she forgot to dress for the photo-shoot to accompany her little opinion piece. Maybe I've misjudged The Sun and it is in fact a fine bastion of journalistic integrity which gives a voice to the silent and naked minority who express their clearly refined and researched views in a succinct manner. That, or some sub-editor was really taking the piss with that TS Eliot line.
QUOTE OF THE DAY: "That doesn't look like a cock - not to be vulgar" AND "Are we going at it semi?" - Stuart remarking on what is in fact Duperret's codpiece and then asking a perfectly innocent question about how full-on we should act but in the sort of language which set everyone else's lavatorial minds racing.
Wednesday, 22 June 2011
Day 13: No More Double-En-What Now?
It was the best of days, it was the worst of days. More rain made it worst, great fun in the rehearsal room made it best. So many apparently mature people, yet so many innuendos and double-entendres that we all needed a cup of tea, a dose of smelling salts and a lie down well before we actually stopped at midday. Tube delays had led to some people being late, not a great start, but the head of steam we had built up by day's end was pretty impressive. It was, by necessity, one of those days when we had to do lots of little things, with Mike taking principles aside to talk through the rather lengthy passages towards the end of the play and Andrea and crew disappearing off for half an hour at a time and returning with a full song learnt. Meanwhile Joe and Hayley, our new stagehand cum rubber-apron-wearing nurse, would occasionally present new props and costume pieces.
The highlight of the day was, without doubt, playing with the massive cartoon heads and puppets in the National Assembly scene. One of the actor's most basic pitfalls is corpsing - laughing onstage -, something which I've only rarely suffered in the past. However there is something irresistibly funny about a couple of benches heaving with rowdy puppets and papier-maché heads, all shouting out rude remarks, clapping their little hands or just generally making silly noises and, even with my back to them, I could not help but laugh at the slightest thing. God only knows how funny it will be to look at - hopefully very. Only the audience will be able to judge that. One of the sweeter moments of the day involved Helen (Simonne) making a little finger puppet of her own - bless her, the big puppets are too scary for Simonne but she wanted to join in!
The Copulation Round was beautifully choreographed by Mike, with input from some suddenly very enthusiastic actors - there was a certain disappointment when the scissoring position was dismissed as being "too difficult to sing through". We managed to reach out and touch the end of the play, a scene which involves Leonie "acting from her lady-garden", Stuart giving us the full Ardoyne Experience and the audience being kettled by the actors. All we need are a few burning cars, a defaced cenotaph and a fire extinguisher and we might actually cause some proper civil unrest. As it is, the ending will hopefully be exciting to watch - it's certainly exciting being in the midst of it. It's also exciting getting to the end of the play at last - there are plenty more places where it needs to go still but it's on the right track.
QUOTE OF THE DAY: "Robbie, poke her when it comes up". Another epic stage direction from Mike B.
The highlight of the day was, without doubt, playing with the massive cartoon heads and puppets in the National Assembly scene. One of the actor's most basic pitfalls is corpsing - laughing onstage -, something which I've only rarely suffered in the past. However there is something irresistibly funny about a couple of benches heaving with rowdy puppets and papier-maché heads, all shouting out rude remarks, clapping their little hands or just generally making silly noises and, even with my back to them, I could not help but laugh at the slightest thing. God only knows how funny it will be to look at - hopefully very. Only the audience will be able to judge that. One of the sweeter moments of the day involved Helen (Simonne) making a little finger puppet of her own - bless her, the big puppets are too scary for Simonne but she wanted to join in!
The Copulation Round was beautifully choreographed by Mike, with input from some suddenly very enthusiastic actors - there was a certain disappointment when the scissoring position was dismissed as being "too difficult to sing through". We managed to reach out and touch the end of the play, a scene which involves Leonie "acting from her lady-garden", Stuart giving us the full Ardoyne Experience and the audience being kettled by the actors. All we need are a few burning cars, a defaced cenotaph and a fire extinguisher and we might actually cause some proper civil unrest. As it is, the ending will hopefully be exciting to watch - it's certainly exciting being in the midst of it. It's also exciting getting to the end of the play at last - there are plenty more places where it needs to go still but it's on the right track.
QUOTE OF THE DAY: "Robbie, poke her when it comes up". Another epic stage direction from Mike B.
Tuesday, 21 June 2011
Day 12: Layer Upon Layer
A far nicer day than yesterday weather-wise, as the sun made its long-awaited return, was marked by a nice day in the rehearsal room as well. Sade, Marat, Coulmier and the Herald worked solidly on the ground we had already covered, reassuring ourselves on where we were, what we were saying and how we felt at any one moment. It was nice to revisit material which we hadn't touched for a few days, refreshing our memories and polishing the scenes up. Then again, there were previously undiscovered moments - I'm sure I heard Nico, at a point when Sade was apparently offering whispered advice on the script, finish a sentence to Clare with the words "...shove it up her ass". He's really connecting with that character.
Then Leonie and Robbie subbed in and we disappeared for a cup of tea, a biccie and some work with Colin Sadler, voice-coach extraordinaire. He gave me an especially useful exercise, involving swinging my arms around me as I speak which helps to free the voice and to give variety to the pitch and rhythm of speech. He then set about making Nico's accent less American and more RP while I spent an enjoyable twenty minutes laughing at Duperret groping up poor Charlotte Corday. The desperate efforts of Leonie to slip from Robbie's clutches were sinister and hilarious, like a sleazy music-hall dance routine.
After lunch, the rest of the team joined us and, with Asa watching, we showed her some of the set-pieces which involve the duck-boards and masks. Then we divided again, with Andrea leading some singing and puppetry practice while Nico, Leonie, Robbie, Clare and I edged ever-closer to the end of Act 2, stopping just before a dagger was shoved into my ribs - which was a relief, of course. Joined by our extra lunatics for the evening, we ran the whole of Act 1. It's a constant delight to act in the midst of this brilliantly playful cast. It takes a whole lot of hard work from everyone to maintain the inner life of their characters and, at this stage, the characters are very much alive. It's getting slicker, it's getting more confident. When we finished, the feeling was one of satisfaction with where we are and optimism for what we are creating.
QUOTE OF THE WEEK: "The difference between directors and stage management is we make things look good, they just count them." Mike Bradwell, tongue firmly in cheek and never one to mince his words.
Then Leonie and Robbie subbed in and we disappeared for a cup of tea, a biccie and some work with Colin Sadler, voice-coach extraordinaire. He gave me an especially useful exercise, involving swinging my arms around me as I speak which helps to free the voice and to give variety to the pitch and rhythm of speech. He then set about making Nico's accent less American and more RP while I spent an enjoyable twenty minutes laughing at Duperret groping up poor Charlotte Corday. The desperate efforts of Leonie to slip from Robbie's clutches were sinister and hilarious, like a sleazy music-hall dance routine.
After lunch, the rest of the team joined us and, with Asa watching, we showed her some of the set-pieces which involve the duck-boards and masks. Then we divided again, with Andrea leading some singing and puppetry practice while Nico, Leonie, Robbie, Clare and I edged ever-closer to the end of Act 2, stopping just before a dagger was shoved into my ribs - which was a relief, of course. Joined by our extra lunatics for the evening, we ran the whole of Act 1. It's a constant delight to act in the midst of this brilliantly playful cast. It takes a whole lot of hard work from everyone to maintain the inner life of their characters and, at this stage, the characters are very much alive. It's getting slicker, it's getting more confident. When we finished, the feeling was one of satisfaction with where we are and optimism for what we are creating.
QUOTE OF THE WEEK: "The difference between directors and stage management is we make things look good, they just count them." Mike Bradwell, tongue firmly in cheek and never one to mince his words.
Monday, 20 June 2011
Day 11: Puppet Up!
We returned from the weekend, some people bearing battle-scars from a serious night of partying on Friday. Cleo, our resident Mad Animal, had been DJ-ing in the school and her disco music clearly had led the little ones astray. Never fear though, some games were on hand to lighten the mood and raise spirits. Cleo introduced us to Masters And Slaves (a game that is far less risqué than the name might suggest), I led the idiotic Penguin Song and Leonie taught us all the joys of Baby Shark. We'll have to include samples on the DVD extras. We then dived headfirst into the show, picking up from where we had left off in the wake of Sade being whipped by Corday. I spent a good deal of time being paranoid in my bath, as is my wont, having to deal with the Enfants Terribles (ie: our singers) barracking me with songs and mockery. Fiona and Claire were especially ruthless, with hair fondling and spidery fingernails across my back. Marat was definitely feeling very hemmed in by the interval, which we reached at lunchtime.
One of the best things about working on a production like this is finding the little things which make you laugh. Helen and Leonie certainly found one during Corday's Second Visit where, for no apparent reason, they both burst into fits of giggles. We ran the scene again, and the laughs came in exactly the same spot. They seemed to be infectious and by the time the cast trooped offstage, the song which was meant to cover the exit had collapsed into a muddy mess of snorts and titters. Mike took a few seconds before looking meaningfully at us and, completely deadpan, remarked "Yeah, very good". That just set us all off again. It wasn't. But I'm sure it will be.
After lunch we broke the back of the National Assembly scene, which involves me as Marat speaking a lot and the rest of the cast providing House Of Commons-esque interjections such as 'Hear Hear!', 'Mwah Mwah Mwah!' and 'Bravo!' To achieve the effect of a full parliament chamber, the brilliant design team had constructed some wonderful puppets based on a cartoon of French politicians of that era. Andrea gave her cast-mates a quick lesson in puppetry and slowly but surely they took on very lifelike qualities, shouting at Marat, clapping their hands and chattering away to each other. This scene is shaping up to be a really fun one, although sadly I spend pretty much all of it in front of the "parliamentarians" and have to carry on speaking, all the while hearing the audience laugh at the brilliant shenanigans being played out behind me.
QUOTE OF THE DAY: "Em...my character's supposed to be mute". Mike's request that Kim (aka Marianne) shout out "Hear Hear!" is met with a kindly reminder of her character's unfortunate situation.
One of the best things about working on a production like this is finding the little things which make you laugh. Helen and Leonie certainly found one during Corday's Second Visit where, for no apparent reason, they both burst into fits of giggles. We ran the scene again, and the laughs came in exactly the same spot. They seemed to be infectious and by the time the cast trooped offstage, the song which was meant to cover the exit had collapsed into a muddy mess of snorts and titters. Mike took a few seconds before looking meaningfully at us and, completely deadpan, remarked "Yeah, very good". That just set us all off again. It wasn't. But I'm sure it will be.
After lunch we broke the back of the National Assembly scene, which involves me as Marat speaking a lot and the rest of the cast providing House Of Commons-esque interjections such as 'Hear Hear!', 'Mwah Mwah Mwah!' and 'Bravo!' To achieve the effect of a full parliament chamber, the brilliant design team had constructed some wonderful puppets based on a cartoon of French politicians of that era. Andrea gave her cast-mates a quick lesson in puppetry and slowly but surely they took on very lifelike qualities, shouting at Marat, clapping their hands and chattering away to each other. This scene is shaping up to be a really fun one, although sadly I spend pretty much all of it in front of the "parliamentarians" and have to carry on speaking, all the while hearing the audience laugh at the brilliant shenanigans being played out behind me.
QUOTE OF THE DAY: "Em...my character's supposed to be mute". Mike's request that Kim (aka Marianne) shout out "Hear Hear!" is met with a kindly reminder of her character's unfortunate situation.
Friday, 17 June 2011
Day 10: A Gentle Jog
The weather continued to disappoint today and, in the decidedly darker confines of the dance studio, it was a slightly gloomier atmosphere to start the day. This didn't last long though, as we launched right into some singing to lift our spirits before we picked up from where we had left off with "Those Fat Monkeys". Andrea, Bill, Claire and Fiona had enthusiastically improvised a messy routine for the song yesterday and Mike was loath to change it. The four singers are an integral part of the show, holding the musical numbers together and throwing themselves into everything with infectious, trouble-making energy. Highlights will surely include Claire's mini-majorette routine in the middle of "Why Do They Have The Gold?" and Bill scaring the living daylights out of a very paranoid Marat.
Speaking of yours truly, my backside is beginning to resent the wooden perch I sit on in my bathtub. I think a discreet cushion will be needed if I'm to last the entire rehearsal process and run without walking like a severe haemorrhoid sufferer. Believe me, that isn't a good look for someone trying to impress industry professionals. Happily though, Helen has been getting very much into the character of Simonne by looking after me wonderfully - my overbearing machismo means I am unable to handle the hairclips needed to attach my turban of bandages each morning but she is a willing helper. She spends most of the rest of the time gently scrubbing my - as yet imaginary - scabs with a towel, something my character fails to appreciate but which is really a rather pleasant feeling!
We moved through towards the end of act one, with Stuart (Roux) raising the temperature with a firebrand performance worthy of Ian Paisley and Nico feeling the sharp edge of Leonie's...em...hair, as he wallowed in the lash during Sade's whipping fantasy. Finally, we ran the play as far as we have gotten, under the watchful eye of Andrea Brooks, our acting tutor during the year at East 15. It all went at a nice easy jog, with the odd hump and bump but reasonably smoothly. Strangely so. Satisfyingly so. The lines are beginning to drop in, the set pieces are sharpening in precision, the characters are coming into focus. All in all, it's a very nice place to be with a couple of weeks to go. Here's to a restful weekend and some nice weather to aid the relaxation.
Speaking of yours truly, my backside is beginning to resent the wooden perch I sit on in my bathtub. I think a discreet cushion will be needed if I'm to last the entire rehearsal process and run without walking like a severe haemorrhoid sufferer. Believe me, that isn't a good look for someone trying to impress industry professionals. Happily though, Helen has been getting very much into the character of Simonne by looking after me wonderfully - my overbearing machismo means I am unable to handle the hairclips needed to attach my turban of bandages each morning but she is a willing helper. She spends most of the rest of the time gently scrubbing my - as yet imaginary - scabs with a towel, something my character fails to appreciate but which is really a rather pleasant feeling!
We moved through towards the end of act one, with Stuart (Roux) raising the temperature with a firebrand performance worthy of Ian Paisley and Nico feeling the sharp edge of Leonie's...em...hair, as he wallowed in the lash during Sade's whipping fantasy. Finally, we ran the play as far as we have gotten, under the watchful eye of Andrea Brooks, our acting tutor during the year at East 15. It all went at a nice easy jog, with the odd hump and bump but reasonably smoothly. Strangely so. Satisfyingly so. The lines are beginning to drop in, the set pieces are sharpening in precision, the characters are coming into focus. All in all, it's a very nice place to be with a couple of weeks to go. Here's to a restful weekend and some nice weather to aid the relaxation.
Thursday, 16 June 2011
Day 9: Moving Day
The weather deserted us today. The rain was thundering down for most of the morning, which made the walk to Murray Hall that bit less pleasant - in fact, it seemed to be at its heaviest for the 10 minutes between my leaving my house and arriving at rehearsals. We looked a slightly bedraggled lot but Claire soon put that right with a warm-up which was more akin to relaxation than energization. Lots of pressure points and finger pressing elicited some fairly sexed-up moans and sighs of approval, which, let's face it, is appropriate for a group of lunatics under the leadership of very sexed-up Marquis de Sade. Nico treated us to a few extracts from "120 Days Of Sodom" which featured, among many choice cuts, a man having sex with a goat resulting in the birth of a human-goat mutant baby which the man then shags and slits its throat. Stuart wanted to know "How was that published?", but you lot are surely thinking "When's the film being released?" Yeah, I can read your dirty minds!
We retrod some ground from yesterday, before pushing into new territory, covering the "Abbess" and "Mad Animal" sections, Duperret and Charlotte's first scene and the continuation of Sade's conversation with Marat. Mike worked with individuals and pairings while the rest of us scattered about the building, learning lines or practicing songs. Being cooped up indoors because of the rain led to some cabin fever though, with an impromptu kitchen concert of S Club 7 and B*witched tracks being belted out over lunchtime by the poor, demented inmates. By the time 5pm came, we were within sight of the end of act one and packed up our bits and bobs into the van for transport to our new rehearsal venue, the Dance Studio at East15.
At 6.30, we gathered in our new home, along with our four new lunatics (James, Ben, Paul and Adrian) and Mrs and Ms Coulmier (Felicity and Laura), and wondered at the oversized wooden frame which is to be Marat's bath, a platform which will see our patients raised to new heights and a sample of the duckboards which will make up the floor of the stage. This in particular was a delight to behold, as Mike ran a drumstick over the slats and created the perfect sound of a guillotine being raised. We then ran the first 20 minutes of the show with our newbies being added to the mix. Ben is working on being a totally still catatonic, while Adrian seemed to adopt a cheerful, helpful character, wheeling me about in the trolley. The Coulmier's sat in polite confusion and disdain, professing themselves "charmed" by the experience - the glances and titters from these society ladies behind their fans betrayed a different story. Which is just the perfect way to play them.
QUOTE OF THE DAY: "Just sit there, shut up and wrangle your flute" - Mike Bradwell explains what Ben's job may well be in relation to looking after musical instruments.
We retrod some ground from yesterday, before pushing into new territory, covering the "Abbess" and "Mad Animal" sections, Duperret and Charlotte's first scene and the continuation of Sade's conversation with Marat. Mike worked with individuals and pairings while the rest of us scattered about the building, learning lines or practicing songs. Being cooped up indoors because of the rain led to some cabin fever though, with an impromptu kitchen concert of S Club 7 and B*witched tracks being belted out over lunchtime by the poor, demented inmates. By the time 5pm came, we were within sight of the end of act one and packed up our bits and bobs into the van for transport to our new rehearsal venue, the Dance Studio at East15.
At 6.30, we gathered in our new home, along with our four new lunatics (James, Ben, Paul and Adrian) and Mrs and Ms Coulmier (Felicity and Laura), and wondered at the oversized wooden frame which is to be Marat's bath, a platform which will see our patients raised to new heights and a sample of the duckboards which will make up the floor of the stage. This in particular was a delight to behold, as Mike ran a drumstick over the slats and created the perfect sound of a guillotine being raised. We then ran the first 20 minutes of the show with our newbies being added to the mix. Ben is working on being a totally still catatonic, while Adrian seemed to adopt a cheerful, helpful character, wheeling me about in the trolley. The Coulmier's sat in polite confusion and disdain, professing themselves "charmed" by the experience - the glances and titters from these society ladies behind their fans betrayed a different story. Which is just the perfect way to play them.
QUOTE OF THE DAY: "Just sit there, shut up and wrangle your flute" - Mike Bradwell explains what Ben's job may well be in relation to looking after musical instruments.
Wednesday, 15 June 2011
Day 8: Walking And Talking
Some directors just know what they're doing. Mike is one of those directors. He's making this up on the hoof, allowing the play to grow organically, but you get the impression you are in safe hands no matter what. First thing this morning, as I walked into Murray Hall, he came up to me and said "I think we've made a mistake about the waving in the trolley". And that only confirmed how "on it" the man is - last night I went to sleep thinking "Hmm, the waving doesn't seem right..." and this morning the director decided we would do something different.
Mike furthered the belief that he's got us all figured out by getting myself and Nico, and then Robbie and Leonie, to do our dialogue while walking about the space together. In the case of Sade and Marat, a great deal of their back-and-forth is conducted from static positions (a chair and a bath) and Mike was determined to prevent the declamatory nature of the text from obscuring the fact that it is still a conversation between two living, breathing human beings. Simple medicine, walking around, but it hit the spot precisely.
The day also saw Colin Sadler, the vocal coach, drop by to see how things were shaping up and he offered advice on RP, being heard over loud noises (a hazard of my part, especially) and general fix-ups. He arrived as we were figuring out how to chop the heads off imaginary aristocrats, then creating a graveyard of ghoulish, masked figures to frighten the bejaysus out of Charlotte. We got past Marat's liturgy before Mike called a halt and we sat down to read more of the play, keeping ourselves going forward in order to then go back to go forward again. By close of play, we had cracked the back of act two - wow, that's a lot of 'ACK' sounds. Tomorrow, we begin adding our background lunatics into the mix and the Coulmier family gains two members, although Ryan is off up to Liverpool for the day so things may get a bit unruly without the governor's iron grip on proceedings!
QUOTE OF THE DAY: "I love this shit, it's right up my street!" Claire Hughes heartily approves of creating a Thriller-esque wasteland of spooks.
Mike furthered the belief that he's got us all figured out by getting myself and Nico, and then Robbie and Leonie, to do our dialogue while walking about the space together. In the case of Sade and Marat, a great deal of their back-and-forth is conducted from static positions (a chair and a bath) and Mike was determined to prevent the declamatory nature of the text from obscuring the fact that it is still a conversation between two living, breathing human beings. Simple medicine, walking around, but it hit the spot precisely.
The day also saw Colin Sadler, the vocal coach, drop by to see how things were shaping up and he offered advice on RP, being heard over loud noises (a hazard of my part, especially) and general fix-ups. He arrived as we were figuring out how to chop the heads off imaginary aristocrats, then creating a graveyard of ghoulish, masked figures to frighten the bejaysus out of Charlotte. We got past Marat's liturgy before Mike called a halt and we sat down to read more of the play, keeping ourselves going forward in order to then go back to go forward again. By close of play, we had cracked the back of act two - wow, that's a lot of 'ACK' sounds. Tomorrow, we begin adding our background lunatics into the mix and the Coulmier family gains two members, although Ryan is off up to Liverpool for the day so things may get a bit unruly without the governor's iron grip on proceedings!
QUOTE OF THE DAY: "I love this shit, it's right up my street!" Claire Hughes heartily approves of creating a Thriller-esque wasteland of spooks.
Tuesday, 14 June 2011
Day 7: Birthday
Today was Mike Bradwell's birthday so naturally we all arrived into rehearsals ready to make it a day to remember for the big guy. Well, actually, none of us had thought that far ahead and no one had any presents, cards or confectionary, so lunchtime involved a dash to Sainsbury's in Debden for Zara and Cleo to purchase not one but two cakes. Mike was sat at a table in the rehearsal room doing something important-looking when a torrent of actors singing "Happy birthday" and blowing party whistles emerged from the kitchen behind him. He graciously sat giving us V-signs, presumably to show how "VERY" happy he was and managed to blow out all the candles without hitting any of us for being so drama-studenty. We can only assume his wish involved being somewhere else entirely. He spent much of the day complaining that, as an "old person", he really ought to have a string on which to hang his glasses round his neck.
This major event aside, the day saw much progress. We began with one of the camper warm-ups in the shape of Stuart's Dolly Parton-inspired workout and a slippery game of Duck Duck Goose, or Stanislavski Stanislavski Strasberg, as it was rechristened. We then revised what work had been done yesterday and built up the choreography for "Homage To Marat". I was paraded around in the shopping trolley by Mauricio, trying to look regal and not like an eejit in a blanket, feet firmly gripping the mesh of the trolley in an effort not to lose balance. The weather was beautiful outside and Mike sent singers and others out to enjoy it and learn lines while he put together then ensuing scenes, later adding them in and setting an outline for "Corday's Arrival In Paris". Suffice to say, there was horse-acting, Bill on a bench, Robbie and Kim tied up and much bloodthirsty thrusting, if such an activity exists. In the middle of it all, Cleo wreaked havoc on everyone's fitness regimes with two bags of Doritos. They weren't on offer, she just saw them, wanted them, took them.
By the end of the day we had gotten a good 20 pages on their feet and we broke for some costume fittings to take place. Helen looked quite good in her smock and cap. I looked decidedly less sexy than the words "naked except for his pants" might suggest - Asa assured me that the long-johns I tried on would be tighter and dirtier come show week. Which is a relief to all of you, I'm sure. We all reconvened in a rehearsal room on campus for a read-through of the play in the presence of our newbies - 6 actors from our sister show, "Good", will be playing Mrs Coulmier, Coulmier's daughter and 4 more background lunatics. It was great to see other people react to the play for the first time and to read the script in light of a couple of weeks worth of character work. All in all, it's shaping up nicely. Although reading Act 2 has reminded me of just how long my speech to the National Assembly is. Hope the old memory holds up. If not, well...um...I forget what might happen.
QUOTE OF THE DAY: "And if that ends up on the bloody blog, I'll kill you". This is a substitute quote of the day from Mike Bradwell. I can't tell you what it refers too because I value my life quite highly.
This major event aside, the day saw much progress. We began with one of the camper warm-ups in the shape of Stuart's Dolly Parton-inspired workout and a slippery game of Duck Duck Goose, or Stanislavski Stanislavski Strasberg, as it was rechristened. We then revised what work had been done yesterday and built up the choreography for "Homage To Marat". I was paraded around in the shopping trolley by Mauricio, trying to look regal and not like an eejit in a blanket, feet firmly gripping the mesh of the trolley in an effort not to lose balance. The weather was beautiful outside and Mike sent singers and others out to enjoy it and learn lines while he put together then ensuing scenes, later adding them in and setting an outline for "Corday's Arrival In Paris". Suffice to say, there was horse-acting, Bill on a bench, Robbie and Kim tied up and much bloodthirsty thrusting, if such an activity exists. In the middle of it all, Cleo wreaked havoc on everyone's fitness regimes with two bags of Doritos. They weren't on offer, she just saw them, wanted them, took them.
By the end of the day we had gotten a good 20 pages on their feet and we broke for some costume fittings to take place. Helen looked quite good in her smock and cap. I looked decidedly less sexy than the words "naked except for his pants" might suggest - Asa assured me that the long-johns I tried on would be tighter and dirtier come show week. Which is a relief to all of you, I'm sure. We all reconvened in a rehearsal room on campus for a read-through of the play in the presence of our newbies - 6 actors from our sister show, "Good", will be playing Mrs Coulmier, Coulmier's daughter and 4 more background lunatics. It was great to see other people react to the play for the first time and to read the script in light of a couple of weeks worth of character work. All in all, it's shaping up nicely. Although reading Act 2 has reminded me of just how long my speech to the National Assembly is. Hope the old memory holds up. If not, well...um...I forget what might happen.
QUOTE OF THE DAY: "And if that ends up on the bloody blog, I'll kill you". This is a substitute quote of the day from Mike Bradwell. I can't tell you what it refers too because I value my life quite highly.
Monday, 13 June 2011
Day 6: Full Focus
The last of our skills classes at school completed, a weekend of warbling and singing assessments in the past, our focus is now entirely on rehearsing for "Marat/Sade". A slightly soggy Monday morning saw us assemble at the quite leisurely hour of 11am and we warmed up to the infectious and sing-along-able tones of Scissor Sisters. Their first album, obviously, not the later stuff. Kim (ensemble, now called Marianne) taught us all the indispensable life-skill of rotating our feet without using our knees - use your hips! We then played a game of that drama school favourite Zip-Zap-Boing but using stage combat actions and renaming it Punch-Kick-Block. Leonie and I were the last two standing before the rehearsal kicked off properly with some more character work. The four singers were in a peculiarly mutinous mood (the characters, not the actors) and needed to be asked to vacate the space several times by Mike before eventually assistant director Mauricio scared them off with his big truncheon. Yes, it was that sort of day.
The read through continued, during which we encountered Cleo's rather sweet Mad Animal, Stuart's Paisley-esque Roux and Robbie's disconcertingly glassy-eyed Duperret. Mike considered the possibility of having some sort of Duperret theme for Robbie's massive-codpiece-wearing erotomaniac and confirmed that it might involve some sort of "swelling organ sound" - now, either he's doing that deliberately or Mike's subconscious does a very good line in innuendo! Leonie seems to be connecting very well with her narcoleptic Charlotte - she confessed to falling asleep yesterday when she ought to have been warming up for her singing assessment! Eventually Mike called a halt to the reading and declared that it was time to put some of it on its feet. And the excitement only increased when the stage management team taped out an area of the exact measurements of the playing space in the Cockpit, complete with raised rostra at the back for lunatics to lurk on.
Mike wasn't too thrilled when he realised that the space was narrower than he had hoped - health and safety dictates that the gap between our raised area and audience needs to be 110 centimetres apparently, lopping some bits off the edge of the stage. Never mind, he assured us that we would manage because "we're groovy fuckers". And so we worked through the opening speeches of Coulmier and the Herald in the space, Mike reading, actors moving as they saw fit. We even got into the first half of "Homage To Marat", the first song of the show, with Andrea belting out the chords on her organ and chorus of mentals singing along lustily. The rehearsal was followed by the first of the costume fittings for the four singers, proof positive that we're getting ever closer to the big day. My fitting is tomorrow, I shall endeavour to take photos. And now, if you'll excuse me, I have lines to learn.
QUOTE OF THE DAY: "Why did Marx only drink camomile tea? Because proper tea is theft". Mike cracks out some political jokes as we discuss the rights of man and the never-ending intricacies of politics.
The read through continued, during which we encountered Cleo's rather sweet Mad Animal, Stuart's Paisley-esque Roux and Robbie's disconcertingly glassy-eyed Duperret. Mike considered the possibility of having some sort of Duperret theme for Robbie's massive-codpiece-wearing erotomaniac and confirmed that it might involve some sort of "swelling organ sound" - now, either he's doing that deliberately or Mike's subconscious does a very good line in innuendo! Leonie seems to be connecting very well with her narcoleptic Charlotte - she confessed to falling asleep yesterday when she ought to have been warming up for her singing assessment! Eventually Mike called a halt to the reading and declared that it was time to put some of it on its feet. And the excitement only increased when the stage management team taped out an area of the exact measurements of the playing space in the Cockpit, complete with raised rostra at the back for lunatics to lurk on.
Mike wasn't too thrilled when he realised that the space was narrower than he had hoped - health and safety dictates that the gap between our raised area and audience needs to be 110 centimetres apparently, lopping some bits off the edge of the stage. Never mind, he assured us that we would manage because "we're groovy fuckers". And so we worked through the opening speeches of Coulmier and the Herald in the space, Mike reading, actors moving as they saw fit. We even got into the first half of "Homage To Marat", the first song of the show, with Andrea belting out the chords on her organ and chorus of mentals singing along lustily. The rehearsal was followed by the first of the costume fittings for the four singers, proof positive that we're getting ever closer to the big day. My fitting is tomorrow, I shall endeavour to take photos. And now, if you'll excuse me, I have lines to learn.
QUOTE OF THE DAY: "Why did Marx only drink camomile tea? Because proper tea is theft". Mike cracks out some political jokes as we discuss the rights of man and the never-ending intricacies of politics.
Saturday, 11 June 2011
Day 5: Staggering To Our Feet
Today began in time-honoured fashion, with a warm-up led by Helen (Simonne). To some people's dismay this began with some running around - a little too like hard work! Nevertheless, it got us all warm and flushed which was appropriate as Mike asked us to pair off and pose in sexual positions in order to sing the Copulation round. Bucks (The Herald) and I opted for what Wikipedia conveniently informs me is called "The Piledriver" - look it up for yourself if you want the visual. My eye was drawn by this particular safety warning on the Wiki entry: "This position places considerable strain on the woman's neck, so firm cushions should be used to support her". Well, given that the nearest Habitat store is several miles away, we dispensed with the firm cushions and Bucks' neck held up pretty nicely under the circumstances.
We ploughed onward with the text, thinking each line through with meticulous care. Nico had an issue with the French name Damiens (say dam-ee-ON), his issue being that the S on the end is supposed to be silent but it kept appearing when he encountered the word. Perhaps it's proof positive that the Americans are quite a literal race - say what you see! Eventually Mike exhorted him to completely erase the S from his script and his memory. Similarly, my own intonation of 'aristocrat' (I say a-RIS-to-crat) was considered a bit too Irish and modern - AH-ris-to-crat was the agreed upon, OED version. Now, every time I encounter that word, it requires a few extra synapses to fire.
By the end of the day, Mike decided we ought to rewind a bit to the start of the play and put a little bit on its feet. HURRAH! The joy of actually standing a play up and seeing it take its first tentative steps off the page is a real rush. It was only the opening seconds - imaginary audience taking their seats, lunatics walking onstage, Coulmier saying his opening lines and that's it. Nevertheless, as we trooped into the space denoting the stage, little details emerged: I had a sheet and footbath, De Sade had his chair, the four singers looked like a gang of cheerfully murderous jesters posing centre-stage, Corday crumpled into a narcoleptic heap at the back of the stage, the various patients all had their own way of moving and exploring the room. It may not be much, but it's a start.
QUOTE OF THE DAY: ".........." - yep, quote of the day is from Mike Bradwell yet again. The only problem is, I didn't hear it. He said something undoubtedly hilarious which was followed by a couple of people saying "Quote of the day" but I, alas, wasn't eagle-eared enough to catch it. Must have been fairly unrepeatable anyway if no one would tell me what it was!
We ploughed onward with the text, thinking each line through with meticulous care. Nico had an issue with the French name Damiens (say dam-ee-ON), his issue being that the S on the end is supposed to be silent but it kept appearing when he encountered the word. Perhaps it's proof positive that the Americans are quite a literal race - say what you see! Eventually Mike exhorted him to completely erase the S from his script and his memory. Similarly, my own intonation of 'aristocrat' (I say a-RIS-to-crat) was considered a bit too Irish and modern - AH-ris-to-crat was the agreed upon, OED version. Now, every time I encounter that word, it requires a few extra synapses to fire.
By the end of the day, Mike decided we ought to rewind a bit to the start of the play and put a little bit on its feet. HURRAH! The joy of actually standing a play up and seeing it take its first tentative steps off the page is a real rush. It was only the opening seconds - imaginary audience taking their seats, lunatics walking onstage, Coulmier saying his opening lines and that's it. Nevertheless, as we trooped into the space denoting the stage, little details emerged: I had a sheet and footbath, De Sade had his chair, the four singers looked like a gang of cheerfully murderous jesters posing centre-stage, Corday crumpled into a narcoleptic heap at the back of the stage, the various patients all had their own way of moving and exploring the room. It may not be much, but it's a start.
QUOTE OF THE DAY: ".........." - yep, quote of the day is from Mike Bradwell yet again. The only problem is, I didn't hear it. He said something undoubtedly hilarious which was followed by a couple of people saying "Quote of the day" but I, alas, wasn't eagle-eared enough to catch it. Must have been fairly unrepeatable anyway if no one would tell me what it was!
Tuesday, 7 June 2011
Day 4: Sketchy Stuff
Today we got to see pretty pictures! Yes, the costume design sketches were unveiled in all their glory (see Flickr feed) and we were very impressed. Duperret's codpiece looked immense, Coulmier seems very well kitted out in his top-hat and tails, the singers look like creepy clowns, Roux's strait-jacket had arms as long as I am tall and the sketch of De Sade actually looked like Nico. I was assured that my costume (a lone pair of tight, bloomer-ish underpants) would be frayed and made to look wet and clingy. So that's alright then.
Rehearsal ran as in previous days, with more character discovery to begin with. Some characters were beginning to find a definite shape, with Roux (played by Stuart) getting louder with the help of his drum while Kim (ensemble patient) worked towards making her character into a shadow for the narcoleptic Corday, constantly waking her up, fixing her hair and prompting her to action. The four singers became more grotesque and hilarious, with Rossignol (Claire) adding to her lizard discovery of yesterday by taking a severe dislike to Corday - after all, Rossignol can sing, act and she's far more with it than the patient playing Charlotte - it should have been her in that role!
We worked through the script slowly in the afternoon, reading and analysing why people say what they do. Mike encouraged a gentle approach, not trying too much too soon, simply marking it out and noticing, nothing more. We did get quite excited (as is our wont) when a shopping trolley full of props and noise-making devices appeared and the songs gained some atmospheric washboard and whistle sounds. At a break in proceedings, Mike got me to stand in the trolley and look like I'm not terrified of falling over while he wheeled me about the room. We seemed to have found the only trolley in the world with four working wheels and the test-drive was a success so we shall see if it makes its way into the final piece. Even more entertaining were the coconut shells which instantly incited some "Monty Python and the Holy Grail" horse sound effects. These stand less of a chance of getting into the production, sadly. We can but dream...
QUOTE OF THE DAY: "Mrs. Coulmier will certainly be sucking a few more Jelly Babies." Mike, capturing the mood of a middle-aged woman witnessing some steamy Sadist playacting.
Rehearsal ran as in previous days, with more character discovery to begin with. Some characters were beginning to find a definite shape, with Roux (played by Stuart) getting louder with the help of his drum while Kim (ensemble patient) worked towards making her character into a shadow for the narcoleptic Corday, constantly waking her up, fixing her hair and prompting her to action. The four singers became more grotesque and hilarious, with Rossignol (Claire) adding to her lizard discovery of yesterday by taking a severe dislike to Corday - after all, Rossignol can sing, act and she's far more with it than the patient playing Charlotte - it should have been her in that role!
We worked through the script slowly in the afternoon, reading and analysing why people say what they do. Mike encouraged a gentle approach, not trying too much too soon, simply marking it out and noticing, nothing more. We did get quite excited (as is our wont) when a shopping trolley full of props and noise-making devices appeared and the songs gained some atmospheric washboard and whistle sounds. At a break in proceedings, Mike got me to stand in the trolley and look like I'm not terrified of falling over while he wheeled me about the room. We seemed to have found the only trolley in the world with four working wheels and the test-drive was a success so we shall see if it makes its way into the final piece. Even more entertaining were the coconut shells which instantly incited some "Monty Python and the Holy Grail" horse sound effects. These stand less of a chance of getting into the production, sadly. We can but dream...
QUOTE OF THE DAY: "Mrs. Coulmier will certainly be sucking a few more Jelly Babies." Mike, capturing the mood of a middle-aged woman witnessing some steamy Sadist playacting.
Monday, 6 June 2011
Day 3: Dressing Up
We reconvened after the weekend of rest or, in my case, selling frozen yoghurt outside the National Theatre (well, it's the next best thing to actually working INSIDE the building) and began with a dancing warm-up led by Clare Buckingham, or Bucks to you and me, who plays the Herald. After some very competitive games involving tapping hands on the ground, Mike read to us. But these were no bedtime stories, rather they were tales from inside Bedlam, London's notorious asylum. In this den of medical iniquity, patients wore only blankets and were barefoot; they longed for the outside world and were fascinated by visitors and windows; mattresses were never entirely dry (either through incontinence or simply because they were washed but not aired) and bedwetting patients were incarcerated in the cellars on straw and tortured by the more sadistic wardens.
Cheery stuff, I think you'll agree. Then again, not all asylums were of the torture dungeon variety. By the end of the 18th Century, there was a European-wide movement to make things a bit more pleasant for patients, notably in the Asylum de Bicetre in Paris under physician Philippe Pinel and his successor as superintendent, Jean-Baptiste Pussin, himself a former patient of the hospital. These two took a slightly more humane approach to mental health, banning the use of chains, making patients rooms brighter and airier, and using the ingenious treatment known as "talking to the patients" in order to diagnose and treat them. Still, well into the 19th century the number one treatment for "female hysteria" (a myriad of conditions including sexual dysfunction and general melancholy) was masturbating the victim...I mean patient, whether she liked it or not.
All useful stuff in creating an idea of what life was like inside the walls of Charenton at the time of our play. The lovely Mauricio, our assistant director, had brought a sackful of hats, sheets, masks and other assorted items of clothing for us to play with. We selected one or two items each, departed to a space in the hall and gradually dropped back into the character we had explored last week. The clothes helped us add that extra layer of life to them as we walked about the room. Then Mike allowed us to actually make eye-contact with each other, encouraged certain characters to follow others and, eventually, told us we could say ONE line of our dialogue to the other characters about us.
It was fascinating to see the inmates of Charenton beginning to take shape: The four singers banded together like a mercilessly mocking bunch of oversexed trickster clowns; Charlotte Corday practically floated above the floor in a dozy haze; Duperret, the erotomaniac portrayed so devotedly by Robbie, had one hand down his pants at all time; and Helen's poor, simple Simonne followed my paranoid Marat around like a loyal servant, dying to please him. As for Marat, I began to find a certain weight to his movements, a purposeful vigilance and, surprisingly, a high-pitched giggle that may emerge more as we carry on the process. I don't want to give to much away about where the characters have come from but hopefully by the end of the month they will all have taken shape. I certainly hope that Bill keeps Polpoch's hat: half Carmen Miranda, half Little Bo-Peep, it was enough to break anyone's concentratey 'improvising face'!
QUOTE OF THE DAY: "I think I found my inner lizard". Claire Hughes discovers that Rossignol isn't just a hooker with the voice of a nightingale.
Cheery stuff, I think you'll agree. Then again, not all asylums were of the torture dungeon variety. By the end of the 18th Century, there was a European-wide movement to make things a bit more pleasant for patients, notably in the Asylum de Bicetre in Paris under physician Philippe Pinel and his successor as superintendent, Jean-Baptiste Pussin, himself a former patient of the hospital. These two took a slightly more humane approach to mental health, banning the use of chains, making patients rooms brighter and airier, and using the ingenious treatment known as "talking to the patients" in order to diagnose and treat them. Still, well into the 19th century the number one treatment for "female hysteria" (a myriad of conditions including sexual dysfunction and general melancholy) was masturbating the victim...I mean patient, whether she liked it or not.
All useful stuff in creating an idea of what life was like inside the walls of Charenton at the time of our play. The lovely Mauricio, our assistant director, had brought a sackful of hats, sheets, masks and other assorted items of clothing for us to play with. We selected one or two items each, departed to a space in the hall and gradually dropped back into the character we had explored last week. The clothes helped us add that extra layer of life to them as we walked about the room. Then Mike allowed us to actually make eye-contact with each other, encouraged certain characters to follow others and, eventually, told us we could say ONE line of our dialogue to the other characters about us.
It was fascinating to see the inmates of Charenton beginning to take shape: The four singers banded together like a mercilessly mocking bunch of oversexed trickster clowns; Charlotte Corday practically floated above the floor in a dozy haze; Duperret, the erotomaniac portrayed so devotedly by Robbie, had one hand down his pants at all time; and Helen's poor, simple Simonne followed my paranoid Marat around like a loyal servant, dying to please him. As for Marat, I began to find a certain weight to his movements, a purposeful vigilance and, surprisingly, a high-pitched giggle that may emerge more as we carry on the process. I don't want to give to much away about where the characters have come from but hopefully by the end of the month they will all have taken shape. I certainly hope that Bill keeps Polpoch's hat: half Carmen Miranda, half Little Bo-Peep, it was enough to break anyone's concentratey 'improvising face'!
QUOTE OF THE DAY: "I think I found my inner lizard". Claire Hughes discovers that Rossignol isn't just a hooker with the voice of a nightingale.
Thursday, 2 June 2011
Day 2: Playing Make-Believe
Day two in rehearsals and Charenton finally had the chance to breathe its first breaths. We began the day with an intensive warm-up led by Robbie who plays Duperret, or rather, the erotomaniac who plays Duperret. This included a sun salutation during which my arms reminded me that I'd made my first trip to the gym last night and discovered their inherent weakness. Apparently, I can run for twenty minutes but I can't lift heavy things, or not so heavy things, repeatedly over the course of twenty seconds. To quote Mike, who was in turn quoting Quentin Crisp: "If at first you don't succeed, then failure may be your style". Oh well, a whole month to answer vanity's call and get into shape - I should be on some weird reality tv show.
Then again, once we entered the visualisation exercises, it wasn't far from being a Channel 5 programme about past-life regression. We lay on the floor in silence with our eyes closed for twenty minutes as Mike guided us through different stages of our characters' lives, asking us questions which sparked images in our minds: Where do you live? Who are your parents? Have you had sex? Have you witnessed death? Do you have a friend? Are you going hungry? We began with the notion of where our characters needed to be by the time of the play and allowed ourselves to fill in the preceding timeline. This evolved into moving the characters around the room, getting them to sing the copulation song and interacting with De Sade. Nico and Ryan (who plays Coulmier) are the lucky ones in some ways as they are playing "themselves" whereas the rest of us are all playing patients with mental illnesses who in turn have to play someone else within a play. We will eventually have to layer these characters who we met today with acting talents (or lack thereof), knowledge of who they're playing and figure out their levels of compis mentis-ness. Then again, they are playing real people, the ones who have to know what the hell's going on!
An hour passed very rapidly in this way, before the legendary Dr. Colin Sell dropped by to hear some snippets of singing and to discuss the music for the show. Mike excitedly described his vision of a junk opera, full of "found instruments" like pots and pans, washboards, woodblocks and so on. Some of the cast are musicians themselves and among the four lead singers it seems likely that Bill (Polpoch) will be our guitar man and Andrea (our designated music captain extraordinaire) will be lugging about her accordion for the next few weeks. It'll all eventually blend into some wonderful musical mélange. Apparently. He also reiterated an earlier idea he had mentioned about Marat possessing a harmonium or glockenspiel. Watch this space!
We advanced into the afternoon and our wonderful designer returned to discuss costumes. The upshot seems to be scary clowns, fops, shepherdesses and virgins will mingle with the melée of the mad, with plenty of bad make-up (the band Kiss were mentioned as a reference) and a special boil for Marat. Oh good, I've always wanted a special boil. Bill, our resident historian, then gave us a whirlwind tour of revolutionary France in all its gory glory, from tennis court oaths to Robespierre being "basically mental" and every terrible thing in between. Imbued with knowledge and renewed by coffee, we launched into the second read-through of the play, this time reading our own characters. All tentative, all just raising the anticipation ever so slightly. Again, Mike would occasionally interject with ideas and suggestions for how certain things may play out, with his request for protest banners but with a contemporary twist bringing great joy to this politically-minded bunch of actors. Just off the top of my head, I'm thinking "Cuts? We'll give you cuts!" beside an image of an unnamed Conservative Prime Minister with an unnamed reproductive organ in a guillotine...
QUOTE OF THE DAY: "We have to get a precise version of it first and then fuck it up, but fuck it up accurately". Yet again, Mr. Bradwell says it best.
Then again, once we entered the visualisation exercises, it wasn't far from being a Channel 5 programme about past-life regression. We lay on the floor in silence with our eyes closed for twenty minutes as Mike guided us through different stages of our characters' lives, asking us questions which sparked images in our minds: Where do you live? Who are your parents? Have you had sex? Have you witnessed death? Do you have a friend? Are you going hungry? We began with the notion of where our characters needed to be by the time of the play and allowed ourselves to fill in the preceding timeline. This evolved into moving the characters around the room, getting them to sing the copulation song and interacting with De Sade. Nico and Ryan (who plays Coulmier) are the lucky ones in some ways as they are playing "themselves" whereas the rest of us are all playing patients with mental illnesses who in turn have to play someone else within a play. We will eventually have to layer these characters who we met today with acting talents (or lack thereof), knowledge of who they're playing and figure out their levels of compis mentis-ness. Then again, they are playing real people, the ones who have to know what the hell's going on!
An hour passed very rapidly in this way, before the legendary Dr. Colin Sell dropped by to hear some snippets of singing and to discuss the music for the show. Mike excitedly described his vision of a junk opera, full of "found instruments" like pots and pans, washboards, woodblocks and so on. Some of the cast are musicians themselves and among the four lead singers it seems likely that Bill (Polpoch) will be our guitar man and Andrea (our designated music captain extraordinaire) will be lugging about her accordion for the next few weeks. It'll all eventually blend into some wonderful musical mélange. Apparently. He also reiterated an earlier idea he had mentioned about Marat possessing a harmonium or glockenspiel. Watch this space!
We advanced into the afternoon and our wonderful designer returned to discuss costumes. The upshot seems to be scary clowns, fops, shepherdesses and virgins will mingle with the melée of the mad, with plenty of bad make-up (the band Kiss were mentioned as a reference) and a special boil for Marat. Oh good, I've always wanted a special boil. Bill, our resident historian, then gave us a whirlwind tour of revolutionary France in all its gory glory, from tennis court oaths to Robespierre being "basically mental" and every terrible thing in between. Imbued with knowledge and renewed by coffee, we launched into the second read-through of the play, this time reading our own characters. All tentative, all just raising the anticipation ever so slightly. Again, Mike would occasionally interject with ideas and suggestions for how certain things may play out, with his request for protest banners but with a contemporary twist bringing great joy to this politically-minded bunch of actors. Just off the top of my head, I'm thinking "Cuts? We'll give you cuts!" beside an image of an unnamed Conservative Prime Minister with an unnamed reproductive organ in a guillotine...
QUOTE OF THE DAY: "We have to get a precise version of it first and then fuck it up, but fuck it up accurately". Yet again, Mr. Bradwell says it best.
Tuesday, 31 May 2011
Day 1: We're Riding Along On The Crest Of A Wave
'Well, Barry, what did you do in your first rehearsal?'
Funny you should ask, Random Faceless Literary Construct. Today, I sang a song about copulation, simulated an orgy and wondered what it would be like to be mad.
Perhaps some context is needed, eh?
Today was the first official rehearsal for 'Marat/Sade', performed by the students of East 15 Acting School's MA Acting course, of which I am one (hi, Barry McStay, pleased to meet you, have a Ferrero Rocher won't you?). We will be performing in rep with our comrades in 'Good' by CP Taylor at the Cockpit theatre in Marylebone at the end of the month. The show takes place on June 29th and July 1st at 7.30, July 2nd at 2.30. Put the dates in your diaries. Or don't bother, I'll be reminding you of them frequently. The whole shebang will be directed by the legendary Mike Bradwell, founder of Hull Truck Theatre, former Artistic Director of the Bush Theatre and reluctant escapologist. No seriously, that's actually the title of his book. This fact alone assured us that this would be a fun process. And you're very welcome to join us on this madcap ride journey. I'll be endeavouring, in my madness, to keep this blog updated daily so do read it. If only out of sympathy for my poor addled brain and keyboard-worn fingers.
Anyway, today. The cast assembled at Murray Hall in Debden, a big bright roomy hall - yep, does what it says on the tin - with big windows and shiny floors and chairs and a kitchen and and and... We don't get out much so the excitement was truly palpable. It always is when a new project starts and we were buzzing. We all introduced ourselves in the traditional circular fashion, Mike offering a few vague hints about his thoughts for each of our characters and his assistant director, Mauricio, tapping his notes furiously into a laptop.
For those of you who don't know 'Marat/Sade', there's a handy thing they have these days called Wikipedia. Go on, I can wait.
Finished?
Good. As you will no doubt by now be well aware, 'Marat/Sade' is a play within a play depicting the murder of Jean-Paul Marat, performed in the mental asylum of Charenton in the year 1808 by a cast of lunatics under the direction of the Marquis De Sade. The majority of us, therefore, will be playing people with various psychological conditions who themselves are playing (with varying degrees of ability and success) historical figures about whom they may know very little or nothing. Simples, as our meerkat friend would say.
No problem, says Mike, as he reminds us that 'the characters have not been to drama school' - they don't show their technique, they just try bloody hard to get it right. And away we went, chatting about likely inmates of Charenton. Deep breath, and all together now: Syphilitics, spastics, catatonics, schizophrenics, manic depressives, 'abandoned women', political dissidents, the educationally sub-normal, pinheads, epileptics, obsessive compulsives, narcissists, homosexuals, paranoics, and people with autism, dementia, ADD, dissociation, Tourette and Downs Syndrome.
We whirled onwards, learning the old scout song 'We're riding along on the crest of a wave', complete with actions and 5-year-old singing style. This was followed, almost as if Mike had planned it, by learning the round which appears in 'Marat/Sade': "And what's the point of a revolution without general copulation". Again, complete with actions and...slightly older than 5-year-old singing style. The vibe we were aiming for was mime-orgy and there was much spanking, fondling, licking, shagging and, ahem, sucking. Although bless him, Stuart (who plays Roux) was adamant that he was simply begging on his knees before Ryan (who plays Coulmier). Funny thing about orgies: there tends to be very little need for begging as most participants are more than happy to make plenty of generous donations.
We were joined after lunch by the cast and crew of 'Good' and introduced to the designer, Urse - and I hope that's spelt right, please correct me if I'm wrong Urse...woops, and again! She showed us the model of the combined sets she had constructed which had the room ooh-ing and aah-ing and, in the case of James (Hitler in 'Good'. Yes. Seriously. Hitler.) squeaking with delight. She explained that she had been late in arriving as someone had picked up her bag on the tube and handed it in at the station. Apparently a wooden box full of little men and tiny furniture designed to look like some sort of horrible institution counts as a suspicious package. Thankfully she rescued it before it could be destroyed by MI5 or Rentokil or whoever handles these matters and everyone agreed it will be a wonderful playground in which to play our plays.
'Good' departed and left us to tea, cake and a read-through of the script, with each of us reading someone else's part just for kicks and to stop us worrying too much about how to 'do our acting' just yet. At various points Mike interjected with phrases like "there'll probably be kazoos at this point", "Duperret, in a VAST codpiece" and "You'll be acting badly but well". Then, as the day drew to a close, he uttered the Quote of the Day (see below), we all had a bit of a sing-song and then shuffled off home to figure out exactly what the hell was wrong with us. By which I mean our characters, naturally. One day down, many more to go and do stay with us, because it's gonna get...well...mental.
QUOTE OF THE DAY - Mike to Andrea, who plays Kokol and also, in the musical sense, plays the accordion: "I would very much like you to whip out your squeeze-box".
Funny you should ask, Random Faceless Literary Construct. Today, I sang a song about copulation, simulated an orgy and wondered what it would be like to be mad.
Perhaps some context is needed, eh?
Today was the first official rehearsal for 'Marat/Sade', performed by the students of East 15 Acting School's MA Acting course, of which I am one (hi, Barry McStay, pleased to meet you, have a Ferrero Rocher won't you?). We will be performing in rep with our comrades in 'Good' by CP Taylor at the Cockpit theatre in Marylebone at the end of the month. The show takes place on June 29th and July 1st at 7.30, July 2nd at 2.30. Put the dates in your diaries. Or don't bother, I'll be reminding you of them frequently. The whole shebang will be directed by the legendary Mike Bradwell, founder of Hull Truck Theatre, former Artistic Director of the Bush Theatre and reluctant escapologist. No seriously, that's actually the title of his book. This fact alone assured us that this would be a fun process. And you're very welcome to join us on this madcap ride journey. I'll be endeavouring, in my madness, to keep this blog updated daily so do read it. If only out of sympathy for my poor addled brain and keyboard-worn fingers.
Anyway, today. The cast assembled at Murray Hall in Debden, a big bright roomy hall - yep, does what it says on the tin - with big windows and shiny floors and chairs and a kitchen and and and... We don't get out much so the excitement was truly palpable. It always is when a new project starts and we were buzzing. We all introduced ourselves in the traditional circular fashion, Mike offering a few vague hints about his thoughts for each of our characters and his assistant director, Mauricio, tapping his notes furiously into a laptop.
For those of you who don't know 'Marat/Sade', there's a handy thing they have these days called Wikipedia. Go on, I can wait.
Finished?
Good. As you will no doubt by now be well aware, 'Marat/Sade' is a play within a play depicting the murder of Jean-Paul Marat, performed in the mental asylum of Charenton in the year 1808 by a cast of lunatics under the direction of the Marquis De Sade. The majority of us, therefore, will be playing people with various psychological conditions who themselves are playing (with varying degrees of ability and success) historical figures about whom they may know very little or nothing. Simples, as our meerkat friend would say.
No problem, says Mike, as he reminds us that 'the characters have not been to drama school' - they don't show their technique, they just try bloody hard to get it right. And away we went, chatting about likely inmates of Charenton. Deep breath, and all together now: Syphilitics, spastics, catatonics, schizophrenics, manic depressives, 'abandoned women', political dissidents, the educationally sub-normal, pinheads, epileptics, obsessive compulsives, narcissists, homosexuals, paranoics, and people with autism, dementia, ADD, dissociation, Tourette and Downs Syndrome.
We whirled onwards, learning the old scout song 'We're riding along on the crest of a wave', complete with actions and 5-year-old singing style. This was followed, almost as if Mike had planned it, by learning the round which appears in 'Marat/Sade': "And what's the point of a revolution without general copulation". Again, complete with actions and...slightly older than 5-year-old singing style. The vibe we were aiming for was mime-orgy and there was much spanking, fondling, licking, shagging and, ahem, sucking. Although bless him, Stuart (who plays Roux) was adamant that he was simply begging on his knees before Ryan (who plays Coulmier). Funny thing about orgies: there tends to be very little need for begging as most participants are more than happy to make plenty of generous donations.
We were joined after lunch by the cast and crew of 'Good' and introduced to the designer, Urse - and I hope that's spelt right, please correct me if I'm wrong Urse...woops, and again! She showed us the model of the combined sets she had constructed which had the room ooh-ing and aah-ing and, in the case of James (Hitler in 'Good'. Yes. Seriously. Hitler.) squeaking with delight. She explained that she had been late in arriving as someone had picked up her bag on the tube and handed it in at the station. Apparently a wooden box full of little men and tiny furniture designed to look like some sort of horrible institution counts as a suspicious package. Thankfully she rescued it before it could be destroyed by MI5 or Rentokil or whoever handles these matters and everyone agreed it will be a wonderful playground in which to play our plays.
'Good' departed and left us to tea, cake and a read-through of the script, with each of us reading someone else's part just for kicks and to stop us worrying too much about how to 'do our acting' just yet. At various points Mike interjected with phrases like "there'll probably be kazoos at this point", "Duperret, in a VAST codpiece" and "You'll be acting badly but well". Then, as the day drew to a close, he uttered the Quote of the Day (see below), we all had a bit of a sing-song and then shuffled off home to figure out exactly what the hell was wrong with us. By which I mean our characters, naturally. One day down, many more to go and do stay with us, because it's gonna get...well...mental.
QUOTE OF THE DAY - Mike to Andrea, who plays Kokol and also, in the musical sense, plays the accordion: "I would very much like you to whip out your squeeze-box".
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