Fact #77: Goodbye Beatrice

We closed Much Ado today!

Endings are bittersweet. It's always a little sad to say goodbye, but then it's on to the next thing. Ah, we actors are so fickle!

I will say this though -- I hope, I hope, I hope that I get a chance to revisit this play and this character again sometime. That's definitely not something I say after every show I'm in. But I can say absolutely that I would play Beatrice again anytime, anywhere. Even in a production where we're all dressed as clowns. Bring it on.

So, goodbye Beatrice. For now. Maybe I'll see ya 'round.

Beatrice and Benedick share a tender moment.

Til tomorrow!

Fact #76: How about a little Choose Your Own Adventure?

Our story starts at 7am. Yep, 7am.

An alarm sounds. It's a radio clock tuned to the most bizarre station ever. Sometimes country, sometimes pop-rock, always earsplitting.

Our hero, Shlaurel Shloeder, leaps across the room and smashes the snooze button with all her might.

Should she...

A. Hit snooze over and over for another hour and a half before she absolutely has to get up?
B. Haul her lazy ass out of bed and go for a run?

If you chose...

A. Shlaurel sleeps very restfully until 8:30, despite launching herself out of bed every ten minutes to hit snooze. Why not just turn off the alarm? Don't even ask such silly questions.

B. You're a jerk.

At 9 o'clock Shlaurel joins her family, who are visiting from out of town, for some breakfast and coffee. In all likelihood, she drinks more coffee than she should. She plays with her niece and falls a little bit more in love with this adorable tiny person.

Oh no! Shlaurel almost lost track of time. It's nearly time for her to leave for her second-to-last performance of Much Ado About Nothing.

During the show, does she...

A. Move the audience to tears?
B. Step in someone's potato salad?

If you chose...

A. Never has an audience seen such acting!! In the immortal words of William Shakespeare, "down upon her knees she falls, weeps, sobs, beats her heart, tears her hair, prays, curses." It's... really something.

B. It's live outdoor theater, folks. That means actors' feet in your potato salad. Deal with it. (And thank you for not bringing egg salad.)

As soon as the performance/food fight is over, Shlaurel rushes home to change. She's got a wedding to go to! Two of her friends are getting married to each other.

Does she...

A. Shower, even though she already showered once today?
B. Not shower, because she's pretty much clean if you don't count the layer of dirt and sunscreen?

If you chose...

A. Shlaurel takes a shower. A really quick one. Didn't you hear the water running? Yeah, she already got out. No, seriously, she really did take a shower.

B. That's more like it! A little facewash, a little makeup, throw on a cute dress and some dancing shoes, and Shlaurel's good to go! (But if anybody asks, tell them she did option A.)

Shlaurel goes to the wedding. Sadly, she misses the ceremony because of her show, but she makes it in plenty of time for the reception. She sees old friends and celebrates with the happy couple.

At the reception, does she...

A. Dance her pants off?
B. Dance her pants off?

If you chose...

A. You are correct.
B. You are also correct.

After a long evening of dancing her pants off, Shlaurel picks up her pants, bids fond goodbyes to her dear friends, and heads home. Before she collapses into bed, she sets her alarm for 7am. She's an optimist.


The End.


Til tomorrow.

Fact #56: Shakespeare vs The Great Outdoors

Generally, when you do a show in a regular theater, here's what happens:

People come in. ---> They buy their tickets at the box office. ---> They sit down in chairs pointed directly at the stage. ---> The lights go out. ---> They watch the show.

Easy peasy.

When you do a show outside in a public park, here's what happens:

People wander up, possibly at the beginning of the show or possibly somewhere in the middle. ---> They set down their blankets/giant folding chairs, possibly facing you or possibly facing the exact opposite direction. ---> They sit, and possibly watch the show or possibly let their kids meander right into the scene you're doing.

It's intimidating trying to keep people's attention when you're competing with wind, sun, planes flying overhead, people flying kites, dog walkers, joggers, crying babies, the ant crawling up their leg, the egg salad they brought, etc. etc. . . etc. etc. . . etc. etc.

I found myself struggling with this a few times during the first performance. There's an impulse to push everything. To throw acting out the window, point your face in the general direction of the crowd and just yell. To pull faces, juggle, do magic tricks -- anything to keep the audience's attention.

But all that stuff won't keep their interest forever. If you're not playing the reality, if they don't have something to connect to, you'll lose them to that delicious egg salad (actually, I think egg salad is gross. . . maybe that's why it's distracting them, they're wondering why the hell they brought it).

It's a fine line. Big holds people's attention. But so does honest. This kind of theater relies on both. Either one, without the other, isn't enough.

And seriously, egg salad is super gross.

Barf.

Til tomorrow!

Fact #55: Shakespeare vs Babies and Puppies

Ooh, ooh, ooh! Guess what?

I'm about to embark on a week of nonstop awesome! What's going on, you ask? Well, I'll tell you.

Much Ado opens today!!! We have our first performance at 2pm. I slept in til 10, which I never do -- now I'm gonna do a little yoga, have a little coffee, do a little warmin' up, then head over to the park. I'm a little nervous, but mostly excited to play!

Tomorrow we've got another performance. Then I have to run some errands to get ready for . . .

A trip to Minneapolis!!!!!!!!!! Eeeeee!!!! (Too many exclamation points? I beg to differ.)

O.M.Babies and Puppies.

I can barely contain my excitement. What am I gonna do when I get there, you ask? Well, I'll tell you.

1) Put my face on a puppy tummy. Two puppy tummies probably.
2) Try to make my little niece laugh. It is the ultimate goal of my life and the most satisfying sound ever.
3) Have lengthy conversations with my nephew, who I hear is saying all kinds of big words now.
4) Taste test all the new homebrews on tap in my brother's kegerator.
5) Catch up with all my siblings, including my younger brother who's visiting from overseas.
6) Play the word game with my dad.
7) Play crokinole with anyone who'll accept the challenge!
8) Trade albums with my sister-in-law, my music guru.
9) Have a sleepover at my sister's new place, which will also hopefully entail some wine and girl talk.
10) Take lots and lots of pictures - there's even been talk of a big family photo since we'll all be there.

I like going home. It feeds my soul.

But first things first -- as the old saying goes, "Shakespeare before babies and puppies."

Coffee: check.
Yoga: check.
Sunscreen: check.
Know my lines: check.
Not raining: check.

Annnnd, week of nonstop awesome . . . GO!



Til tomorrow!

Fact #42: Two weeks??? Where does the time go?

We open Much Ado in two weeks. Actually 13 days, but let's just round up to a nice even two weeks, shall we? Mentally, I've just hit that extra special place between, "Plenty of time," and, "No time!!!" (It's a very small window -- in fact, sometimes it only lasts for a few seconds.)

We're starting to stitch the pieces together, which is always a scary and exciting part of the process. It's scary because stumbling through transitions, getting lost in the middle, or realizing you're somehow supposed to be in two places at once can feel like taking a giant step backward. But it's exciting and obviously necessary because this is the point when things start to build. One scene feeds into the next, one beat informs the next. It starts to make sense as a whole.

Beatrice is coming along. I'm finding her thread, stitching her together too.

Kind of like this. ------------------------------>

But less Tim Burton-y.


One thing I've been surprised at is how different 'my' Beatrice is from the perception I had of her before we started rehearsals. She's less carefree than I'd thought. She's more practical. Her wit and humor are still there, but they exist as a counterbalance to an opposite side. She even has a moment toward the end of the show that the assistant director referred to the other day as her "Lady Macbeth" moment.

But there's lots more work to do. Some scenes are starting to flow nicely, but a few still feel like banging my head against a wall. Luckily I've still got a little while before there's "No time!!!!"


Til tomorrow.

Fact #30: Some thoughts about Beatrice

As of this moment, the Beatrice played by me is a little schizophrenic. Which is okay. It's where she's at right now. I'm finding her in each scene. And like a real person, she's different from moment to moment, day to day. Different in different company, different in different moods.

What I'm missing right now is her spine. The deeper stuff that stays the same from moment to moment, day to day. The habits and actions and needs that create her shape. I need to find that, so she can be different in every scene but still be Beatrice.

"Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself, I am large, I contain multitudes." - Walt Whitman

"Hey Walt, did anybody ever tell you you look like Gandalf?" - Laurel Schroeder


Til tomorrow.

Fact #28: I have no idea what I'm doing

I like being right. I like it so much that sometimes I bet people a hundred thousand million dollars, even though I don't/they don't even have that much money, just for the satisfaction of jumping around yelling "I won a hundred thousand million dollars!!" when it turns out I'm right.

I like being right so much that sometimes I forget it's totally okay to not be right.

Starting rehearsals on a new show is sort of like the first day of school or something. You want people to like you. You want to fit in. You want to show you deserve to be in that class. You want to get the answers right.

The thing is, especially in the creative field, trying to be 'right' is shooting yourself in the foot. When I get nervous, self-conscious, doubtful of myself, I retreat behind my wall of getting the right answer. As if there's some way to prove that I'm qualified to be there.

But I'm finding a better way to deal with nervousness, and that's admitting that I don't know.

As an actor, admitting I don't know opens me up to collaboration, allows me to explore new ideas. It lets me get out of my head because I take the pressure off myself to figure it out all alone. It allows my fellow artists to support me, and brings everyone in on the task of making it work.

In life, admitting that I don't know the right answer gives me a chance to figure my shit out. And it gives other people a chance to say that they don't know either.

Because nobody really does, do they?


Til tomorrow!

Fact #18: I'm having a hard time sitting still

I know my life is about to explode into craziness, so I'm trying to take advantage of this calm before the storm to get stuff done. But I'm so antsy!!!!

I've had the past two days off.. but all that free time, combined with the knowledge that I should be getting stuff done, makes me a little loopy sometimes. I've been getting a little cabin fever-y, spending hours sitting on my bed pouring over my scripts.

The 'work before the work' is essential, but it can also be the hardest part for me. Once I start rehearsals, I start to live and breathe it - it gets in my body, it's active and energetic, I'm sharing the work with the director and my castmates, it finally becomes a collaborative process.

But the 'work before the work' still has to get done, or I'll be behind when the second kind of work starts. :) So right now, I'm doing my actor homework. Reading the script over and over. Reading my scenes, working on getting the lines into my head. Reading the whole play through again looking for the things other characters say about mine. Finding my interpretation, my perspective. Specifying.

But, seriously, there's only so much a girl can take! So yesterday I excused myself for a couple of hours, went to H&M, spent money I didn't have on a cute skirt I didn't need, and then got some gelato. Win. Big win. Win all around.


Til tomorrow!

Fact #17: Shakespeare was a master of the English language

Oooo, this is the funnest (I know that's not a word, but if Sarah Palin and Shakespeare can make up their own words, so can I) thing ever!

I was dicking around on the internet looking for Shakespeare resources, and I stumbled on the Shakespeare Geek's blog. Super awesome. It's like my blog, but, you know, actually about something.

Anyways, that led me to this site, where you can type in a word or phrase and find all the references Shakespeare made to that word. Whaaaat?! You can even search by character or by play. O.M.Nerd. I could do that for hours! In fact, I did.

And then, if you still haven't got enough, I found this awesome book - The Shakespeare Lexicon. Eeeee! Geek-head explosion!

Fun stuff, and very helpful. All right, now it's back to digging through my "Much Ado" script.

Oh wait. One more thing.

Tee hee hee. I'm a child.


Til tomorrow!

Fact #15: There are levels of Shakespeare-ness

I've been spending a lot of time lately pouring over my script for "Much Ado About Nothing". I'll be starting rehearsals in less than two weeks, and the closer it gets, the more excited and nervous I get.

I have a theory that there are three levels of Shakespearean acting:

1) The actor doesn't really know what he's saying. The audience doesn't know either. The performance is bland and general, but he speaks loudly and gestures grandly.

2) The actor has done all of his research. He's deciphered the dialogue and knows what he's saying. But the audience still doesn't. The performance is more emotionally connected, but it's like watching a movie with the sound turned down - the audience is left to figure out what's going on from the visual clues.

3) The actor has done his research, and then found a way to translate it. He knows what he's saying and so does the audience. It is alive and visceral and poetic and nuanced. He's guided by the language but not precious with it.

I had a revelatory experience in London, watching Mark Rylance perform in "Twelfth Night" and "Richard II" - his performances were so clear and immediate and connected. It was an amazing 'ah-ha' moment for me, seeing what Shakespeare can look and sound like when it's done right.

So I know what I'm aiming for. Now I just have to get there. Hence, the excitement and nervousness. :)


Til tomorrow!