When the Almost Blasphemy Tour rolled into the wonderfully-weird mecca of Austin, TX, I was granted the rare opportunity to bring my work to my hometown. To be fair, I was actually born and raised in San Antonio, TX and lived there for eighteen years. But in the two years I spent in Austin, past college, I identified so much with this city that I feel I must call it home.
Texas is thought to be a very conservative place, and postcards conjure images of cowboys rolling thru cactus patches. As we drove through the pan-handle, we did indeed encounter teenagers roping up their horses as they walked into the convenience mart. We saw enough cattle to keep Arby’s in business for another century. But Austin is the artsy independent liberal oasis in Texas, whose culture is not much like the rest of the state. The city slogan is actually “Keep Austin Weird”. (If you live in Austin, you get a little tired of seeing it, but as a tourist, I actually bought a bumper sticker…)
Highlights of the three-day, packed adventure include: troughs of breakfast tacos and Tex-Mex cuisine, Texas dry smoked BBQ brisket, BYOB mini-golf, dunking our feet in Barton Springs (I do not jest, February swimming is usually fair game in Texas), a wacky meander through the infamous ‘dirty sixth street’ (not for the faint of heart, it is like Times Square on tequila), trips to the Dog n Duck, shopping in South Congress, seeing Cambiare’s original production of Messenger No.4 at the BLUE theatre and catching up with dear friends and family. Oh right, and we did two plays.
The University of Texas at Austin English Department crowds are VERY well educated in classical literature and especially in Shakespeare. The Shakespeare at Winedale summer program has a long-standing relationship with the ASC, and their program culminates in a performance at the Blackfriars Playhouse. Many students that performed this year attended our Renaissance Run of ‘Tis Pity She’s a Whore, and it was awesome to be able to perform our fully-realized production for them, so they could witness the evolution of our process.
Both plays went over very well, and it was especially great to do ‘Tis Pity because we had not done a production of it in over a month. While I was rocking out in the pre-show I noticed many familiar faces in the audience, but I was most surprised to see my high school drama teacher sitting stage left. Dean Whitus is the reason I ventured into the world of theatre, and I could not have been more happy to show off my first big boy long-term acting gig to the man that inspired me to do this for a living.
I had high-school flashbacks of working waiting shifts at Joe’s Crab Shack, reeking of shrimp with strange cats following me in the parking lot. I used to day-dream for a more fulfilling life, and I remembered, “Wow. I am really doing this.”
-Michael Amendola (Dola)
(Puck, Starveling in A Midsummer Night’s Dream; Antigonus, 3rd Lord, Shepherd in The Winter’s Tale; Grimaldi, Banditti in ‘Tis Pity She’s A Whore.)
ASC on Tour
Friday, March 2, 2012
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Huntsville, Alabama
Our stay in Huntsville, AL started with a welcome respite from the cold Maryland weather. University of Alabama Huntsville was an interestingly quaint satellite campus thriving in the shadow of its parent school, the University of Alabama in Tuscaloosa. Complete with their very own athletic team (Go Chargers!), UAH gave us full access to their athletic facilities for the week! And, they put us up in their campus hotel.
Our load-in and speed through of 'Tis Pity She's a Whore -- other than a little crawling to assure I attached enough C-clamps to our portable stage, after we surprised the venue with an unexpected early arrival -- went off without a hitch.. Our performances were met with very enthusiastic audiences, including two young ladies who got a little heated when there were no front row seats left for The Winter's Tale after attending A Midsummer Night's Dream the night before.
After a couple days of dealing with a rattling guitar and a handful of trips to Guitar Center, the potluck dinner after The Winter's Tale was a nice send off. Meeting some of the benefactors and students that helped bring us to Huntsville was rewarding. To know how appreciative people still are for theater, that is the best part of my tour.
--Patrick Earl
(Polixenes, Servant in The Winter’s Tale; Giovanni in ‘Tis Pity She’s a Whore; Demetrius, Fairy in A Midsummer Night’s Dream.)
Our load-in and speed through of 'Tis Pity She's a Whore -- other than a little crawling to assure I attached enough C-clamps to our portable stage, after we surprised the venue with an unexpected early arrival -- went off without a hitch.. Our performances were met with very enthusiastic audiences, including two young ladies who got a little heated when there were no front row seats left for The Winter's Tale after attending A Midsummer Night's Dream the night before.
After a couple days of dealing with a rattling guitar and a handful of trips to Guitar Center, the potluck dinner after The Winter's Tale was a nice send off. Meeting some of the benefactors and students that helped bring us to Huntsville was rewarding. To know how appreciative people still are for theater, that is the best part of my tour.
--Patrick Earl
(Polixenes, Servant in The Winter’s Tale; Giovanni in ‘Tis Pity She’s a Whore; Demetrius, Fairy in A Midsummer Night’s Dream.)
Monday, February 20, 2012
"What, wilt thou hear some music?" - The music process for ASC On Tour
What is the process for choosing songs? Why are certain songs selected?
Choosing songs is a very collaborative process, but in the end the director chooses. A month or so before the rehearsals start, [Artistic Director] Jim [Warren] or the show's director (if it isn't Jim) emails the cast asking for song ideas for preshow and interlude. When people have sent in their list, the director picks out a set of around 10 songs to serve the preshow and interlude.
I can't tell you for sure if everyone makes their picks the same way I do, but I tend to just listen to my ipod on shuffle and, if a song seems to be making references in the lyrics to feelings, situations, or plot developments that also happen in the play, I will jot them down. I am amazed how often I'll be sitting in a coffee shop now, hear a song of the speakers, and immediately think, "Oh! That'd be a great song for ..."
I think Jim likes to create a final list that best fits the ambiance for the show as well as providing variety. Sometimes a choice will be made specifically for ironic purposes - in Titus Andronicus they played "I Wanna Hold Your Hand" shortly after Lavinia has been discovered sans hands; and, last year, we started Macbeth with the Witches singing "A Spoonful of Sugar" from Mary Poppins, which started sweet and then twisted into a creepy off-key ending leading right into the show. I think when audiences can see the irony they feel like they're in on the joke.
From what musical genres/eras/etc. do you select?
Is there any type of music that just don't adapt well to ASC's staging conditions?
We do a version of "The Way You Make Me Feel" for A Midsummer Night's Dream this year that starts out slow and "jazzy" allowing us to take a great high octane song and keep it entertaining with our limitations.
We typically don't do songs that have bad language in them or adjust them if they do ("Forget You" - "is't not the pits?" and "Hazy Shade of Winter" - "drinking my seltzer and lime"). So, we don't do much rap music because of the lyric issues as well as the driving bass and electronic needs of most of the genre.
How do you decide who sings what, who plays what instrument?
The first few days of rehearsal I found out who could play what instrument to at least have a sense of options. Many people who came in not playing any instruments have found themselves playing cajon, tambourine, or egg shaker to help fill out the sound in songs on which they sing backup. If someone really wants to play or sing on a specific song, it usually happens.
What is the music rehearsal process like?
In the Almost Blasphemy Tour, we have fewer confident, experienced, and proficient instrumentalists, so more of the music was done as a big group all in the room together. If I had ideas for a song or when we worked on the mash-ups, I spent time after rehearsals in my apartment figuring out how the songs would fit together and sometimes making recordings of myself doing all the various parts to send to people so they had an idea of where we want to start instead of just listening to the original song and trying to talk them through ideas for where it'll go. Usually we then work out the structure of the song; get people learning the vocals and the instruments; and, when that feels like we're heading the right way, start adding harmonies and dynamics to give more drama to the piece.
How do you go about adding choreography to some of the songs?
Some of the other preshow songs have movement that has basically grown out of the group energy when playing the music. If it's a really up-tempo, toe-tapping number, someone (usually Dola [Michael Amendola]) will start dancing while playing. The more we play it, the more people join in, and then we end up with the whole guitar section doing a jump going into the final chorus of "Because the Night." The in-show music usually calls for choreography or "a dance" or specifically "a dance of shepherds and shepherdesses." With that the choreographers, director, and music coordinator get together to come up with the style of dance and then the song that will work if we want to use an existing song or the style to compose for a new song.
How do the songs 'evolve' while you are on the road?
What does the music do to get the audience ready before the show starts?
I think creating this bond with them during preshow really helps open them up to the play. It also helps set the general mood of what they're about to see. On days when students got up at six a.m. to go to school to hop on a bus to drive three hours to get to our show to sit in a chair and watch a Shakespeare play for two hours before hopping on a bus to drive three hours home, it can really help enliven a group that has had undesirable circumstances going into the show.
How does the music during the intermission affect the audience during the show?
I think music during the show shakes things up. When we throw "Time of My Life" from Dirty Dancing into The Winter's Tale, the audiences realizes that Shakespeare doesn't have to be this holy tome that is not to be messed with in any way and that cannot be fun. It helps to knock the pedestal out and bring Shakespeare to a level at which the audience trusts they can relate.
Can you share any specific audience reaction to the music?
I think our rendition of Cee-Lo Green's "Forget You" right before the start of A Midsummer Night's Dream has gotten many a crowd of teenagers up and dancing around. At the Annapolis Area Christian School, three kids came up through the audience to dance on stage. It was spirit day so many were dressed in costumes, one had a huge wig on, which fell off and Dan [Daniel Abraham] Stevens put it on and continued to sing and dance with it.
What are your thoughts on the importance of this aspect of the ASC On Tour?
Going out as ourselves and performing music that is recognizable helps shatter any preconceptions about the next two hours. If the audience is willing to come with us for an inch because of the music we'll be able to coax them the rest of the mile with the play itself.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Murray State
It’s been colder than I expected. I’m grateful that I brought the jackets, mittens, and hat that I debated about, but wish I’d packed my jeans (I just recently discovered several immodest holes in the inseam of my most frequently-worn yoga pants, which leaves me with only one remaining pair—and it’s chilly!). Space in my suitcase is devoted to the following, ordered by volume: scripts, books, make-up for the shows, yoga mat, and clothing. I’ll be buying another pair of yoga pants and some jeans as soon as possible.
Food: The spinach salad greens are fresh and plentiful, which I am grateful for. I had a corn-dog today! Haven’t had one of those since YMCA camp as a kid.
Rooms: Comfy and clean—conveniently close to the theater and cafeteria on campus. The gym… AMAZING!
Performances—and we’ve had lots of them here—have been going well. We’ve had “two-a-days” for several days in a row now—morning shows for area high school students and evening shows for the college community. Audiences have looked to be around 200-500 in number. We’ve got 42 seats on stage! It’s a HUGE auditorium with a wide stage that’s been fun to play. I’m grateful for the vocal rest when we have it—it’s a big space to fill. So far we’ve been doing A Midsummer Night’s Dream, but tonight we’ll be doing The Winter’s Tale. I’m grateful to get into Paulina’s skin again and to let Helena gently rest for 24 hours or so. Tomorrow, Rick and I teach a workshop to 100+ 7th graders!
P.S.
During one of my “cross-arounds” to get to my entrance on the other side of the building (in this space, I have to go outside to get there), I ran into an old acquaintance from IDAHO who happened to be walking by! She said, “Bridget!” I said, “Ashley!” And we stared at each other amazedly (me in my Helena dress!) before I said, “I have to go! Or I’ll be late for my entrance! Come see the play! Tomorrow!” and I had to vanish again! What are the chances?!
--Bridget Rue
(Paulina, Time, Dorcas in The Winter’s Tale; Putana, Philotis in ‘Tis Pity She’s a Whore; Helena, 1st Fairy in A Midsummer Night’s Dream)
Food: The spinach salad greens are fresh and plentiful, which I am grateful for. I had a corn-dog today! Haven’t had one of those since YMCA camp as a kid.
Rooms: Comfy and clean—conveniently close to the theater and cafeteria on campus. The gym… AMAZING!
Performances—and we’ve had lots of them here—have been going well. We’ve had “two-a-days” for several days in a row now—morning shows for area high school students and evening shows for the college community. Audiences have looked to be around 200-500 in number. We’ve got 42 seats on stage! It’s a HUGE auditorium with a wide stage that’s been fun to play. I’m grateful for the vocal rest when we have it—it’s a big space to fill. So far we’ve been doing A Midsummer Night’s Dream, but tonight we’ll be doing The Winter’s Tale. I’m grateful to get into Paulina’s skin again and to let Helena gently rest for 24 hours or so. Tomorrow, Rick and I teach a workshop to 100+ 7th graders!
P.S.
During one of my “cross-arounds” to get to my entrance on the other side of the building (in this space, I have to go outside to get there), I ran into an old acquaintance from IDAHO who happened to be walking by! She said, “Bridget!” I said, “Ashley!” And we stared at each other amazedly (me in my Helena dress!) before I said, “I have to go! Or I’ll be late for my entrance! Come see the play! Tomorrow!” and I had to vanish again! What are the chances?!
--Bridget Rue
(Paulina, Time, Dorcas in The Winter’s Tale; Putana, Philotis in ‘Tis Pity She’s a Whore; Helena, 1st Fairy in A Midsummer Night’s Dream)
Friday, February 10, 2012
Midsummer on the Mount
I usually attempt to speak for myself and none other, but I cannot help but feel as if our time spent at St. Mary's on the Mount touched on some fundamental joy(s) of why it is we do this job of acting.
We have become very practiced at the performing of A Midsummer Night's Dream (repetition, people of the internet, might make anyone good at anything, if they practice it as often as we do this show), so the performing of it has become, for us, as much an exercise in voyeurism as it is a theatrical one. Or maybe that is what this job cannot help but be, especially within the constraints of this company's MO; when we say we can see you, we don't just mean when we're talking to you, and it's often when we're not talking at all that we get the most candid view.
One of my favorite activities as a passive, non-speaking stage presence, in fact, is to check audience responses to the jokes I've been seeing/enjoying for the better part of our time together. Watching people laugh at the polished bits of comic brilliance that constitute the Play Within a Play is probably my favorite part of my work day
So, to the matter of Mary: here we are, on a gorgeous roadside campus made up of the best kind of conflation of contemporary architectural efficiency with the looming elegance of stone-faced monastic aesthetic. It almost sneaks up on you, really. You've just passed Thurmont (a footnote on a side-scroll-landscape of American agri-monotony), and suddenly it just pops up from the fields: a golden Madonna overlooking the welfare of a campus of breathtakingly gorgeous students (no, seriously, it must be something in the food because all of these people were just plain pretty) , all wandering around what looks like the Google Campus's take on an abbey.
Like I said: Elegant.
Anyway, not withstanding the simpler joys of looking out into a sea of pretty people, doing Midsummer for these folks (three nights in a row, even) put me in a mind to consider what a bizarre and pleasant (and bizarrely pleasant) life I get to live while on the road. I get to do what I love for a living; live with people whose company I genuinely enjoy; move across the aforementioned agri-monotony with a tourist's appreciation for beauty (I mean, honestly, what excuse would I have had to visit any of these places if not through work?); and I get to meet the students and enthusiastic minds of the industry in which I'm trying so hard to keep my footing. And I'm getting paid!
It is a good time to be alive, people of the internet, and I'm glad that I get to talk about it with such a persistent grin on my face.
Thanks for reading, and we hope to see you soon.
--Daniel Stevens
(Cleomenes and Florizel in The Winter’s Tale; Florio in ‘Tis Pity She’s a Whore; Theseus and Mustardseed in A Midsummer Night’s Dream.)
We have become very practiced at the performing of A Midsummer Night's Dream (repetition, people of the internet, might make anyone good at anything, if they practice it as often as we do this show), so the performing of it has become, for us, as much an exercise in voyeurism as it is a theatrical one. Or maybe that is what this job cannot help but be, especially within the constraints of this company's MO; when we say we can see you, we don't just mean when we're talking to you, and it's often when we're not talking at all that we get the most candid view.
One of my favorite activities as a passive, non-speaking stage presence, in fact, is to check audience responses to the jokes I've been seeing/enjoying for the better part of our time together. Watching people laugh at the polished bits of comic brilliance that constitute the Play Within a Play is probably my favorite part of my work day
So, to the matter of Mary: here we are, on a gorgeous roadside campus made up of the best kind of conflation of contemporary architectural efficiency with the looming elegance of stone-faced monastic aesthetic. It almost sneaks up on you, really. You've just passed Thurmont (a footnote on a side-scroll-landscape of American agri-monotony), and suddenly it just pops up from the fields: a golden Madonna overlooking the welfare of a campus of breathtakingly gorgeous students (no, seriously, it must be something in the food because all of these people were just plain pretty) , all wandering around what looks like the Google Campus's take on an abbey.
Like I said: Elegant.
Anyway, not withstanding the simpler joys of looking out into a sea of pretty people, doing Midsummer for these folks (three nights in a row, even) put me in a mind to consider what a bizarre and pleasant (and bizarrely pleasant) life I get to live while on the road. I get to do what I love for a living; live with people whose company I genuinely enjoy; move across the aforementioned agri-monotony with a tourist's appreciation for beauty (I mean, honestly, what excuse would I have had to visit any of these places if not through work?); and I get to meet the students and enthusiastic minds of the industry in which I'm trying so hard to keep my footing. And I'm getting paid!
It is a good time to be alive, people of the internet, and I'm glad that I get to talk about it with such a persistent grin on my face.
Thanks for reading, and we hope to see you soon.
--Daniel Stevens
(Cleomenes and Florizel in The Winter’s Tale; Florio in ‘Tis Pity She’s a Whore; Theseus and Mustardseed in A Midsummer Night’s Dream.)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)