Now blogging:  Trish Cooper, playwright, on the experience of seeing her first full-length play, Social Studies, develop as a professional production (running at PTE until December 8, 2013).

Bob Metcalfe & Trish Cooper

I thought blogging would come more easily to me but it’s actually been hard to write about the rehearsal process.  Probably because I feel like the rehearsal hall has some of the same rules as Vegas - what happens here, should stay here.  Except the rehearsing eventually leads to the performance, which will, hopefully, be seen by the audience. But, the process, and the stumbling, and the sweating, and the crying and the turmoil should be private.

Alix Sobler & Richie Diggs

Sharing my thoughts during this highly-charged and neurotic time could be bad for my future self-esteem.  It is humbling to watch a director, actors, and designers, try to work with your words when they are clunky or cliché or repetitive.  It’s all so embarrassing. And humiliating, and, like, embarrassing.

At the same time, this is such an incredible opportunity. Professional Theatre, Baby! More than one professional -- a whole team! It’s such a thrill to see how it all comes together: the set, the lights, the props, the music, actors in their various costume changes. The attention to detail is incredible.

Some Lessons Learned from this Rehearsal Process:



Marina Stephenson Kerr & Alix Sobler. Photo by Bruce Monk

People expect you to know what your play is about.  Weird.

Actors will make choices with your words that are very different and sometimes even better than your original intention for a line.

Punctuation is your friend.  Don’t be a jerk to your friend.

Stage Management will smile at you and save you.  But, secretly they curse you if you write scenes that require popcorn (food, really), dirty dishes, or expensive fruit.

Bob Metcalfe, the Artistic Director of PTE and the director of Social Studies, makes an incredibly convincing drunk teenage girl.  It’s a gift.

Oh wait, that might be one of those things that should have stayed in the Rehearsal Hall.

 

>> More info about Social Studies

October 11, 2013 -- We laugh a lot. Boy, do we laugh a lot.

It’s not necessarily because we are producing a comedy that laughter has found its way into the rehearsal hall. It’s the people. If we were doing a heavy drama with this group of stage managers and creative artists, I believe we’d be laughing just as much.

It doesn’t hurt that we’re doing a comedy. A truly funny one at that.

What makes it truly funny? As opposed to, what, falsely funny? I think things are truly funny when we see ourselves in the characters and we think to ourselves, “It’s so true!” and then…“I’m so glad that’s happening to them and not me.”

How does one tackle the performance of comedy? For it to be “truly” fun, our performances must be “true”. That means, we can’t try to be funny, we just need to play the scene given to us with strong intentions and let the writing do the work. That’s not always easy. It can feel like more fun in rehearsal to “act funny” but in the end that’s not what needs to be onstage and that’s why we have a director.  Bob Metcalfe is our referee and coach. He blows the whistle on our mugging and throws a flag when we cross the line. But he also encourages us to go as far as we can within the boundaries of the playing field.

Laughter in the rehearsal hall does not always translate to laughter in the theatre…so I think it’s a good sign that in the last few days it’s become deafeningly quite during our run-throughs…that means the audience is coming soon…and a play without an audience is silent. We cannot wait to share McIvor’s play with you and feel free to share your laughter with us.

Now blogging:  Carson Nattrass, who plays Kyle Best in Daniel MacIvor's The Best Brothers

October 8, 2013 -- Well, week one sure went by in a hurry. 

In fact, week two went by just as quickly.

Sorry for not blogging about it. But here I am to catch you all up to speed.

Paul and I have had our ladies hat and glove fittings…yes, ladies hat and gloves. I haven’t asked, but I would assume this is not the first time Paul has dressed in women’s clothing. I know it’s not my first time. If you work in theatre long enough…

Even if you don’t…

We’ve been fitted for our costumes and we’ve received our haircuts.

Fittings are a strange thing. Unless you go to a tailor, it’s not often one gets measured for their everyday clothing choices. Nor do you have three or four people crowding around, staring, glaring, frowning, thinking and pinning as you’re making your clothing choices. I myself, feel self-conscious enough about how I look and being on display doesn’t make it any easier. That may sound strange coming from a person who stands on a stage for a living but I think our director, Bob Metcalfe, put it best: actors are “insecure egomaniacs”. So believe it or not, the desire to stand up in front of hundreds of people can co-exist quite nicely with self-loathing.

It’s always a good sign when someone as hard on myself as I am comes away from a costume fitting happy. I loved the pants, shoes, socks, shirt, vest and jacket. Perhaps it’s because I could never afford clothes like these in real life, but it doesn’t matter to me. If I’m going to stand in front of all those people, I want to feel like they represent the character well and represent me well.

As I mentioned earlier, I got my hair cut. It took 2 minutes. I don’t have much hair.

Haircuts and costume fittings…we can see the finish line and we can’t wait to join you all there. I think the show is an absolute delight. Hilarious and warm. Just what we need during our beautiful Winnipeg autumn.

Now blogging:  Carson Nattrass, who is playing the role of Kyle Best in PTE's season opener, The Best Brothers by Daniel MacIvor, directed by Robert Metcalfe -- opens October 17, 2013.

Monday, September 30, 2013

Week one...done!

Blog one...begun!

I haven't had the pleasure of rehearsing for a PTE Mainstage show for 10 years. That's kind of crazy to me. PTE feels like home whether I'm working here or not. 

The first day of rehearsal was...well for me it's like the first day of school. What should I wear? Are people going to like me?

I'm happy to say that I made a couple of new friends. Specifically, a guy named Paul. He's awesome. He plays my brother in the play. We bond on lunch breaks. We're both married and have kids. He just moved here and doesn't know many people. He's nice to me. We play well together. 

Some old friends were there too. Bob Metcalfe, our director, and Melissa Novecosky, our stage manager, I have worked with a lot and it's really great to see them again. 

Anyway, I have more to say but I'll leave it at that for now. I'll chat a bit more about rehearsal next time. 

Saturday, October 13 -- Aftermath

When my mother goes to the lake, this is how she makes coffee: she takes an old enamel coffee pot that doesn't have the basket in it any more, boils some water in it, and then puts several scoops of coffee in and boils it. I'm not sure how long she boils it; you'd have to ask her. That's the best I can describe Opening Night. It was like trying to swallow a big mouthful of her lake coffee before the grounds settle.You have to let the grounds settle, see? Or it's not even like coffee at all and you burn your tongue.

Just as we entered the building Rick Chafe told me "for at least the first twenty minutes you'll be wondering what play you're watching." Turned out to be true like so many things Rick says. It was an out-of-body experience. Bob and the cast did a magnificent job. I was worried about those actors in the scenes on the bridge and oh - my brother Glenn told me at intermission that what he and his friends used to do in Chippawa was run all the way across the bridge during a break in traffic and VAULT over the rail to dive in. Holy crap. Mum doesn't know about that though, so don't tell her.
So many people I didn't get a chance to talk to in the lobby after. I barely talked to my mother, I never had a decent moment with Bob. My whole loving family was there and most of our neighbourhood and lots of lovely friends (there really are no people like show people). They sold out of both The Brink and Selkirk Avenue beers which can only mean that Bruce McManus and I are now officially two of the cool kids. Everyone's been so kind and nice helping me along through all of this.

 

The whole next day I was what the youngsters describe as "a hot mess." Wondering what that was all about, and why would anyone put themselves through that kind of highly stressful, ridiculously vulnerable experience, etc. It must be because you just have to see if you can get something across. You're just built that way or something. Then I got an email forwarded to me by my brother Murray. One of his curling buddies had been at the show and wrote to say his father was a Hong Kong vet and he wished his Dad had lived to see the show because the story isn't told outside of history books, and not much there either. So there's a good reason to do something like this. And maybe it will be more comfortable, or at least more familiar next time? I don't know. Next time?

I'm starting to get my skin put back on and I got a little sleep. Looking forward to seeing it again soon. Now that the grounds are starting to settle it is starting to taste more like coffee. This is a cup of joe for which I am profoundly grateful.

And I think this might be the end of this blog.