9 October 2009

Back on the beach, same dog, colder weather with rain threatening.  The last few shows are bittersweet — mingling the desire for a strong finish (”All right — let’s lay down some tracks, and do the definitive performance!”) with the aniticipation of the next show to be rehearsed — or not.

Many of us have had meetings with Jackie Maxwell to find out if our services will be desired for next season, and to discuss possible parts.  Rumours abound as to who is playing what.  Expectations begin to adjust themselves to new information; hopes are raised or dashed as details of “definite” offers begin to circulate.

Recently a friend of mine surprised me by describing what she called “one of the two or three most enlightening experiences of my life.”  She went on to say that Tadeusz Bradecki,a frequent director for The Shaw (including this season’s The Devil’s Disciple), had done a kind of rehearsal workshop with a group of which she was a part.  She and the others rehearsed a scene, she told me, much as he would work with actors.  They carried scripts, and moved around the furniture used to represent the set, and repeated scenes over and over again, as Tadeusz gave them small adjustments to incorporate into their thinking and actions. My friend told me she had never understood before exactly what went on when actors work on a play.

I was astounded.  Although I am often asked what rehearsals are like, I, like most actors I know, tend to talk about prep work or “table work”, not the seemingly endless drudgery of repetition that characterizes the bulk of our use of time.

Why do I mention  this? Because I have tended to dwell, in this writing,on life outside the theatre. To be fair, this also seems to be of interest to many readers.  Furthermore, I know that some of my fellow bloggers, new to The Shaw, have detailed their experiences as working actors here very well.  I thought their fresh eyes might find things to report that have become so familiar to me that I hardly notice them anymore.

So my friend’s revelation has “given me furiously to think”, as Agatha Christie’s Hercule Poirot would say (I understudied Barry MacGregor as Poirot in Black Coffee in 1986, my first season here).  Is it the daily nuts and bolts of our work that fascinates readers, or is it enough to describe our own personal reactions to the ramifications of what we do?  What do you think? If you have read these blogs, or even if  you’re reading now for the first time, take time to leave an opinion as to our future proceeding.

Finally, a small personal note on the death of Douglas Campbell.  A few weeks ago, Douglas celebrated his 87th birthday here in Niagara-on-the-Lake, at an informal gathering at the Angel Inn.  This was the centrepiece of a lengthier visit, full of the theatre tales and reminiscences that are the sustaining legends of our profession.  In the course of discussing The Devil’s Disciple with some of us, Douglas alluded to some of the “great lines” Shaw had written.  The examples he quoted, and the way he delivered them, were siezed on by the listening actors, and one distinctive reading in particular was immediately installed in our production, where it was rewarded with a huge laugh from the audience at each performance.  This is how we learn our trade, and refine it — and this is how great stage actors live on through the generations.

Thank you, Douglas.

Thank you, too, to all of you who have made it possible for me to communicate with you in this new way.  See you in 2010!