Tuesday, September 18 -- after the day off:
All are agreed that one day off is not sufficient. All casts in the history of Equity have agreed on this. I was glad to get back to rehearsals though, because when I'm not actually there I have too much time to worry. But it's time to face facts: short of rethinking the whole cockamamie idea, there's not all that much I can do at this point. I can sit in on rehearsals as I did today, watching for small adjustments I can make to help the actors do what they need to do. But that's not the same as being needed at this stage in the process, is it? I'm sure they can do without my smartass comments. There are one or two scenes that I will really need to sit in on, but otherwise, I'm on call if needed. One concern: if I stay home I'll have to clean the house, and I am simply not ready to face that.
I think about music a lot these days, I guess because it helps me somehow to think of one creative process in terms of another. I was listening to Fleetwood Mac's Rumours. I finally bought the CD the other day out of some need to satisfy my inner fifteen-year-old. Listen to those folks build a pop song! (This really does relate to playwrighting. Be patient. And if this isn't highbrow enough for you, I'll do one on opera some other day.) So when Lindsey Buckingham recorded those guitar solos, did he plan them carefully or just try whatever came to mind in the moment? Either way, I'm sure that there were a number of takes to get them to sound so inevitable. Or maybe not. Some of those tunes, the whole thing sounds inevitable: backup vocals, drums, Stevie Nicks' voice-that-doesn't-fit-with-her-face, the works. Once you've heard any good song (or aria, okay? Geez), it seems as though there could never have been any other way to do it. And this is what interests me (this is the part about playwrighting): how does a good pop song, a good painting ,a good anything, manage to be both surprising and inevitable at the same time? How do you create something with that inevitability that isn't predictable? My brother the very smart guy and excellent musician Lloyd Peterson says the other good thing about Lindsey Buckingham is how he leaves a lot of room for silence in those solos. That's good for plays too.
So I'm either going to sit in on rehearsals, clean the house, or learn to play the guitar.
If you don't like Fleetwood Mac, you could read Steve Martin's autobiography (Born Standing Up) which also told me lots of good stuff about playwrighting, even though it's about standup comedy.
All are agreed that one day off is not sufficient. All casts in the history of Equity have agreed on this. I was glad to get back to rehearsals though, because when I'm not actually there I have too much time to worry. But it's time to face facts: short of rethinking the whole cockamamie idea, there's not all that much I can do at this point. I can sit in on rehearsals as I did today, watching for small adjustments I can make to help the actors do what they need to do. But that's not the same as being needed at this stage in the process, is it? I'm sure they can do without my smartass comments. There are one or two scenes that I will really need to sit in on, but otherwise, I'm on call if needed. One concern: if I stay home I'll have to clean the house, and I am simply not ready to face that.
I think about music a lot these days, I guess because it helps me somehow to think of one creative process in terms of another. I was listening to Fleetwood Mac's Rumours. I finally bought the CD the other day out of some need to satisfy my inner fifteen-year-old. Listen to those folks build a pop song! (This really does relate to playwrighting. Be patient. And if this isn't highbrow enough for you, I'll do one on opera some other day.) So when Lindsey Buckingham recorded those guitar solos, did he plan them carefully or just try whatever came to mind in the moment? Either way, I'm sure that there were a number of takes to get them to sound so inevitable. Or maybe not. Some of those tunes, the whole thing sounds inevitable: backup vocals, drums, Stevie Nicks' voice-that-doesn't-fit-with-her-face, the works. Once you've heard any good song (or aria, okay? Geez), it seems as though there could never have been any other way to do it. And this is what interests me (this is the part about playwrighting): how does a good pop song, a good painting ,a good anything, manage to be both surprising and inevitable at the same time? How do you create something with that inevitability that isn't predictable? My brother the very smart guy and excellent musician Lloyd Peterson says the other good thing about Lindsey Buckingham is how he leaves a lot of room for silence in those solos. That's good for plays too.
So I'm either going to sit in on rehearsals, clean the house, or learn to play the guitar.
If you don't like Fleetwood Mac, you could read Steve Martin's autobiography (Born Standing Up) which also told me lots of good stuff about playwrighting, even though it's about standup comedy.
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