Now blogging: Ellen Peterson, who plays the role of Birdy in the world premiere of Daniel MacIvor's new play, Small Things, running at PTE from October 16 - November 2, 2014.

By the end of the first week of rehearsal I feel like I've been hit by a truck. (Okay, no, I don't know how that actually feels since I have never been hit by a truck. To my knowledge.)

If you are an actor, you go for long periods of time without working. Sometimes you are years between jobs, and you forget how very, very tiring it is. Not that I'm complaining! But even if it's the good kind of tired that comes from working hard doing what you love, it's still tired. And everybody in the company has their daily lives still to lead, families to care for, phone calls to make regarding whether or not Equity members are covered for massages when they are not on contract, bicycles to repair, houses to buy, laundry to do. 



The Stage Manager's "bible"

Rehearsals are eight hours a day, six days a week, and you usually get about three weeks from the first day 'til dress rehearsal. It is not nearly enough time. The first couple of days are spent doing "table work," which means you all sit at a table (I know, you'd never have guessed) and read the script a few times and talk about it a lot. It's not as complicated as it sounds. But it's important that the creative team start rehearsals with a shared understanding of the major themes, the characters' actions, the director's vision. I love table work. For one thing, it is a way to begin the work without immediately facing the pressure of performing a role you don't yet know. It is how the team begins to find its shared language and the necessary rapport. A fairly strong bond of trust and openness needs to be formed quickly in a rehearsal process, and table work is our first chance to find out who we are as a group.

I am always interested to see the collective expertise that reveals itself during table work. We showfolk sometimes think we live somewhat sheltered lives, limited in terms of life experience, and no doubt we do in some ways. But because the successful performance of a play relies on our ability to understand the world of the play and relate to the characters, I think we develop an enhanced awareness, a magnified sense of the life around us. It is like a muscle, this ability to make our own lives, and the lives we watch going on around us, usefully analogous to the lives of the people we play. During table work, we throw all this knowledge and awareness into the room and find all the parts that will help with the job at hand. It's rather like the scene in Apollo 13 where they put all the junk on the table and figure out how to use it to make an air purifier or whatever it is.

The scale model of the set by Brian Perchaluk



At any given table of 3 actors, two stage managers and a director, it is astonishing how much people know, and how varied our experience is. If the play is set in a match factory, someone at the table used to work at one. If the play has anything about tortoises in it, by god, one of the stage managers volunteers for a sea turtle rescue organization (our stage manager really does that). A hurricane? Someone just lived through one. If a character drives an Audi, chances are so does one of the actors. But of course, it's quite an old Audi. During table work I have met a guy who spent a summer hopping freights and riding the rails, a former champion Ultimate player, schoolteachers who've given it up, lapsed Vancouver hippies, Jets fans, people who make guitars in their spare time. Sharing our own lives around the table is what creates our collective consciousness. No other creative team will perform this play exactly as we do, because what they bring to the table will be different. 

In discussing the themes of this particular play, we were not surprised to discover that we have some expertise in these areas. We have all known loss, and we have all found ourselves at a point in our lives when we feel stuck. We have all been in some kind of need, we've all needed a kind of support we can't define, let alone find. Judging by the text, Daniel MacIvor's been there too, and when the audience comes to the table, we will have done our best to reflect these common human experiences in a way they can recognize.

Table work only lasts for a day or two. Then you get up on your feet and the whole game changes and becomes much, much more difficult. But that's another story. 

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.