Monday, November 06, 2006

And the rest is silence

...which, of course, isn't a line from our show, which is now done and dusted, been and gone, born and forever lost (sob). I cannot begin to comment or tell the (winter's, ha!) tale or anything similar yet, I am just too stunned. This is not uncommon with our shows - for financial/practical/circumstancial reasons, we have to make do with very short production periods. A mad rush of 60 hours - from get-in (set is not built, lights are not set, and you've never set foot on the particular stage yet in your life) to the final bow after three shows in two days, striking the set&getting out - leaves you with a deep feeling of "what happened?", combined with post-production blues ("life seems so meaningless now I've got my spare time back"). Johanna the (other) director saw The Ghost on row three or four (the theatre is the old National Opera, built 1879, so a Phantom is surely in order), when she went to sing onstage while the theatre was still dark. He was short, dark, with close-cropped hair, and vanished when he was sure he'd been seen. She welcomed him to our show. I ran onstage to call him back when Johanna told me, but he wouldn't show himself to me. Johanna said he only comes if you feed him. He could've had all of me...

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

I hope you have someone video your show, so you can see what happened in that 60 hours...
- Kurt

(ps: This thing is telling me to log in to google/blogger even though I already am. Technology = pain.)

Anna MR said...

Hei anonymous kurt, videoing = the bane of my theatre group. This time it was neatly solved by the lead guy sticking a video tap in one of the stage monitors...

PS Re technology, I agree

Anna MR said...

PPS I naturally mean a video *tape*, not tap!

happeningfish said...

Oh no, we've tapped all the actors (using technology) by now and we know exactly what you're up to. It's all on video.

Anna MR said...

*searches round her body for the said tap, in utter desperation"