giving notes; or, how I exercise my drive to be a standup comedian

I actually enjoy giving director's notes to the cast.

During much of the rehearsal period, as a director, you are breaking the play down into scenes, into moments. I am very vocal during this period, jumping to my feet YES! or ACK! Stop! Do it again- think about where you just were! What do you want?

Later on, however, we have to put it all back together, establish continuity, rhythm, pace, the long arcs of the characters and of the play itself. We can't stop. We run through, all the way through the scene, the act, finally the entire play.

While I, like most directors, take notes.

Sometimes, because the hour is late and actors (and I) have to go home, I type up the notes and email them to the actors after I've returned home. I don't like to do this because A) actors may not understand a specific note, B) actors may not read the notes and C) I like to give notes.

I like to give notes. I do. I make eye contact. I make jokes. I exaggerate, exhort, and expound. I prance and I posture, I prod and I praise.*

From time to time, I may have to shush the actors who are starting side conversations. After all, for many years, the actors with whom I have worked have been teens.

Still, all in all, I have fun giving notes, and the actors have fun receiving the notes.

Here are some of the key ingredients for good note-giving:

• Make eye contact. Make sure the actors are listening.
• EVERY actor should receive a comment. Each actor should know that they are important, and that their work is (literally) noted.
• Use humor. I use a lot of humor at my own expense... I tease and challenge them to be bigger, bolder, more energized than this "old lady"
• Catch them doing something right; be specific about when it happened, and what it was. Comments like "you're great" or "good job" might feel good for a moment, but they don't tell the actor where they are succeeding or how to build on that success. A comment like: "I could really see you focus on the other character on your line 'Not now, darling''" tells the actor what is working and when.
• Be specific about what you want the actor to change. Comments such as "That's no good" or "I didn't like that" again do not give the actor any useful information. A comment like "When you enter in scene two, try rushing straight to the couch- remember what just happened to the character before you entered" gives the actor useful information about what needs work in the scene, and a suggestion for a new approach.
• I try to give both the "director's reason" and the "actor's reason" for a direction. For instance, in the above example, I might remind the actor that the actor's reason- the character's reason- for rushing in is that the character is escaping from an uncomfortable encounter in the other room; while I will admit that my "director's reason" for asking you to rush in and cross to the couch is that the scene needs more energy, and I need you out of the doorway!
• Be a believer. Believe in the play, believe in your actors, believe in theater magic. Keep cheering, keep watching, noting, and sharing what you see. Eventually, it all comes together- how? It's a mystery!

*In fact, over the years many parents have confessed they stayed at rehearsals for the entertainment value of watching me give notes!

beginnings and endings

As the current chapter in my theater life draws to a close, and new chapters are waiting to be written (literally- written!) I reflect back on some of the beginnings.

Although I fell in love with theater earlier, my first on-stage experience didn't happen until I was a freshman in high school when I landed the lead role in "Gentlemen Prefer Blondes". Incredible casting, since at that point I was not blonde, voluptuous or preferred- but to be fair, my romantic lead was nothing like a gentleman, either.

It was an odd beginning for the woman and theater artist I have become: "Gentlemen Prefer Blondes" is a fluffy little comedy about sex appeal being the way to get a man; about a woman's assets being her- well, physical, not spiritual or mental, attributes.

One of the girls in the cast, a senior, tried to teach me how to walk with a wiggle in my non-existent hips.

The theater department found a blond wig for me.

I was costumed in red satin "flapper style" dresses, though I had nothing whatever to flap.

For the woman I am now- a believer in the complexity and depth of all human beings, a devotee of Shakespeare and others who explore the infinite variety and diversity of the human experience- it was, to say the least, an incongruous place to start.


But.

I made them laugh, and I was hooked.

Rain or shine!

When working in the theater in the great outdoors, one needs a plan B. Actually, when working in the theater, one needs a plan B.

Sometimes, in fact, one needs a plan B, C, D...

But when working - all summer long- on a production that only has 4 performances on one weekend, one MUST have a plan in case of rain.

Usually, having a plan in case of rain is enough to keep the rain away.

This year, with a new venue, we had lots of rain through the rehearsal period. And discovered that much of the venue had a tendency to flood.

Not good, especially since we need to string lots of extension cords to power our rented lights and sound equipment.

AND this time, it actually rained. On our last performance day, which included a matinee and an evening performance.

And we used plan D.

Plan B was to move the audience on to the (covered) band shell and reverse the set. Looking at the set, we decided, unless it was Noah's downpour, the work of reversing the set really wasn't worth the time it took.

Plan C was to move the portable awning/gazebo tent that we had erected (to protect the sound equipment from the hot, hot sun) to the center seating area, seat audience there with a few umbrellas to the side. We would move the vulnerable sound equipment on to the stage and trust the audience to ignore the sound crew (a la the Wizard of Oz "pay no attention to the man behind the curtain!")

Well, that didn't work because the awning, when center, blocked virtually all sight lines.

So we used plan D: put sound crew on stage, left the awning/gazebo on the side and allowed audience to sit under it, and issued umbrellas to those few audience members without them.

And it worked.

opening night(s)

Last night was our first opening night! It went well!

And tonight, since we have two casts, is our SECOND opening night!

Twice the energy! Twice the fun!

Ensemble

My job is essentially over. For the director, opening night is the closing of the work.

I still have a few things to do- in this particular production, I am giving a curtain speech to set up the audience- but in the main, what I can do, I have done.

And there is still so much more being done.

I am reminded, as I watch the emails fly back and forth among the cast and crew, of what a truly collaborative art theater is.

There are those coming early to set up tech, coming a bit later to set up concessions, others are bringing long staplers to put the programs together.

Some are bringing signs; some are bringing repaired props or costumes.

We are just a few hours from opening.

From theater magic!

Hell week- the ultimate rehearsal

Yesterday, of course, was the *penultimate* rehearsal(s). The first half of my 12 hour day was sweltering, like a sauna- or more like a steam bath.

Progress, definite progress. I now have a sound track I can live with, and most problems are addressed. There are always the last minute items- shortening a skirt, finding some black socks, one last improvement to props- but the tech end is just about in place.

Except for lights. We aren't sure about lights.

Because the SECOND half of my 12 hour day? It rained. I huddled under an umbrella, sitting in the shower, in essence, taking my notes.

Tonight- the ultimate rehearsal(s)! And tomorrow- opening night! The end- the reward- for all the work.

I think the most essential ingredient of all in theater is: the audience.

lonely

Sometimes I feel so lonely. Everyone has their own friend or friends, to chat with and sit with, for company, conversation, companionship.

I used to have that.

I wonder when that changed? I know some of the why: my age-mates/stage-mates have moved on to other things.

Still, I am lonely.