Knock Knock - The mind of the actor

Yesterday the set construction elves did their magic.  We have a set complete with shelves and walls and stuff and even a hat rack set at a sportingly rakish angle.  Many other things are in place also but it would give away too much.  I’m excited.

We’ve gotten a lot of feedback on our dueling tractors.  Many thanks.  We’re thinking of doing one performance entirely on tractors.  We’re working out the permits with the town and there is a noise issue.

The following is an unbiased clinical self examination of Tuesday’s  1^st run through of Act 1:

I AM THE WORST ACTOR IN THE HISTORY OF ACTINGDOM!   NO! I’M NOT AN ACTOR!  I’M AN DISGRACE!  AN IDIOT FOR EVEN THINKING I CAN DO THIS!  I CAN’T REMEMBER WORDS  I’VE ALWAYS KNOWN BEFORE!  I DON’T KNOW WHAT I’M DOING!  HAS THE PROGRAM BEEN PRINTED YET?   I MUST CHANGE MY NAME SO I DON’T HUMILIATE MY FAMILY!  OH, THE SHAME!  IF I EVERY GET THROUGH THIS, I PROMISE I’VE NEVER SUBMIT MYSELF TO THIS TORTURE AGAIN!  I HAVE TO LEARN TO KNIT.

The following is an unbiased clinical self examination of Tuesday’s 2ND run through of Act 1:

Not bad.  Things are coming along.  The lines are there for the most part and it felt comfortable.  I know what I need to work on.   I don’t know why I was so worried before.  That was silly.  We had a lot of fun especially when Lavin and I were screaming at each other.  Very cathartic.  Yeah, I can do this.  This will be fun.  I wonder what shows they’re doing next year.  There might be a part for me.

Knock Knock - When neighbors collide

Knock Knock's Lavin Cuddihee (Abe) and Elvin Clark (Cohn), who are literally neighbors in real life,  mowing their lawns with scripts in hand.  Such dedication to art. 

Inevitably, however, conflicts arise. 

Knock Knock - The baby walks

Sunday was a monumental day.  We ran the entire show without books in our hands and I have to say it was quite good.  Was it perfect?  No.  Was it performance quality?  Not yet.  But still it was more than the baby taking a few steps and then falling on his tookus.  This was the kid toddling into the kitchen for a snack for the first time.

We’re three weeks and four days away from opening.  I've had the misfortune of being in shows where the object of some of the cast was to have their lines learned by opening night.  More often than not, when that's their goal, they miss their objective.  That’s not theatre, that’s a nightmare and a waste of everyone's time---especially the audience's time.  Productions like that don’t rehearse, they hold play practice.  And the difference is all the difference.

In Knock Knock, now is when we actors get to play, to refine, to experiment.   Decide what works and what does.  This time is why actors do and must "act".  Yes, it is addictive and is a borderline disease.  A disease for which, in my experience, there is no cure.

There is a paint crew that is priming the set this morning.  The set should be completed when the crew finishes their work on Tuesday.  People are poised to implement light and sound.  Props are gathering.  Costumes are on track.

Unabashedly, the purpose of this blog is show what a humongous task putting on a live theatre performance.   Any live theatre.  Including professional theatre.  But, add the dynamic of no one getting paid, having their own jobs and lives and putting in incalculable hours that, for many, the only reward is an occasional "thank you" is incredible.   As actors, (hopefully) we get laughs and applause.   So many deserving people get nothing but they do it anyway. 

That is the spirit of theatre and the spirit of art.

Knock Knock - The Red Shirt Incident

As I may have mentioned before Lavin who plays Abe and I are neighbors.  Literally, next door neighbors.   Yesterday afternoon, as it happened, we had both mounted our respective lawn tractors - one green, one red - for another of our unrelenting battles with acres of grass.  As we neared each other at the border of our properties, we realized that both of us were mowing our lawns with script in hand. A perfect Kodak moment lost perhaps.  We may have to stage it but it won’t be the same.

That, ladies and gentlemen, is dedication to our craft!  But the lawn looks like crap.

At this point I am going to blame everything on a red shirt.  I have a red shirt.  I don’t know why I have a red shirt.  I don’t particularly like red but somehow over the course of time I have acquired a red shirt.  Bad things seem to happen when I wear the red shirt.  It is evil and will be dealt with as such.

I say it is evil because I was wearing the red shirt last night for the first time in many months, as it is a summery red shirt.  As we were rehearsing I made a common little move and my back (for want of a more medical term) tweaked.   Tweaked.  An innocuous word usually meaning to adjust, preferably for the better.  Not in this case however.

I have had worse tweaks.  I am still moving around albeit with the posture of someone 112 years old but moving, functioning, consuming and passing necessary fluids.  My best friend now is a bag of frozen peas of which I now have intimately knowledge.

But the point is that this would not have happened had I not been wearing the accursed red shirt!  We were in Italy last year and I was wearing that shirt.  We decided to take the Metro to the Roman Colosseum.  Somewhere in this trip some light fingered Luigi managed to lift with my wallet.  From now until probably the end of time I cannot see a picture of the Colosseum without linking the red shirt and the missing wallet.  Evil red shirt.

I hereby apologize to the theater gods for bringing the insult of the red shirt into your hallowed hall.  I have been punished and I acknowledge my guilt.  Mia culpa.

And Lavin, sorry about the yellow jackets.  Hope you get your lawn finished soon.

Knock Knock - Teflon Brain Syndrome

It happened again last night.  A full fledged epidemic of TBS - Teflon Brain Syndrome.  It seems to affect the middle aged actor mostly.  It may affect other age groups but no one can remember.

Words!  They were there just a couple of days ago.  I swear.  Last night, not so much.  The only saving grace is that we all experienced it at the same time.  Maybe it was a phase of the moon or we passed through a rogue ion shower.  Come to think of it, this never happened before the invention of the cell phone.  At any rate, while it is frustrating to NOT know your lines it is ten times more frustrating to know you know them and they choose to hide in unspoken obscurity.

We all have our different ways of expressing our bout of TBS in rehearsal.  Lavin (Abe) looks forward and declares “I know these” as he’s asking “line”.  Nancy (JArc) struggles to pull key words from the unforgiving and ever shifting teflon, looks skyward and at times displays facial features I’ve only seen in women in the midst of childbirth.  I (Cohn) prefer the self abusive,  inanimate object hitting technique.  Chris (Wisemen) takes the high road and works through it with dignity.  We all hate him for that.  All techniques are uniquely viable but ultimately ineffective.

We must fight for the cure for Teflon Brain Syndrome, Ladies and Gentlemen!  The future of our art depends on it!  We can begin a foundation, sponsor a telethon and we can even get what’s-his-name to host it!  Shit, what is his name...

Knock Knock - An Actor's Journey - One month and counting

     I found the cause of my illness was really allergies.  (I knew you'd been worried.)  great.  I've never had allergies until the past 2 years.  Who knew you could develop allergies on the downside of middle age.  Just can't wait for my senior citizenry.
     One month and one day from opening Knock Knock.  This is without a doubt the most bizarre play I've ever been in.  And I mean that with all love and affection. 
     It is going extremely well but I can't wait to see the technical aspects brought in, being a devote pessimist.  Those would be the heretofore mentioned dematerializations and rematerializations and gunshots through doors and walls and ascensions and burned meat and rocks jumping out of refrigerators.
     The "script in the bathroom" technique seems to be working for the most part but is helpful if you know not only what the words are but what they mean as well.  It is a part of an actor's job (big part actually) to make the playwright's words work.  It might seem that I'm overstating the obvious but in this play I have a speech of some 5 to 7 lines which I do not understand AT ALL.  I may as well be speaking Klingon.  The words are all English, each sentence makes sense on its own but their arrangement next to each other is baffling.  I'm not going to give away which speech because I still have time to have an epiphany.
     To all those who came out on a beautiful day for Super Saturday...God bless our kids and theatres, every one.

Knock Knock - An Actor's Journey - Weaned from the teddy bear

Major accomplishment last night!  We did Act 1 about 90% off book. 

For me and I think for most actors, you can study and study and study your script but until you get up on your feet without that crutch and at the same time remembering where you're supposed to be at any given time.  It's kind of like sleeping without your teddy bear for the first time.  But I digress....

Terrible distractions for Nancy playing JArc.  She did the entire act in armor! Not exactly the most comfortable outfit especially since all costume modfications will require pliers and possible a hammer.  It was biting into her shoulders and had to be incredibly distracting.  Just think of wearing a sheet of tin and then sitting down.  There isn't a lot of give.

So we're dealing with armor issues and the lights are still going out at random and usually when I'm struggling for certain words.  Everyone is working tremendously hard because we know we have to have our parts completely under control when we start implementing tech...lighting flashes, smoke, gunshots, walls blown out, you know, the usual.

Today is (are?) the Ides of March.  Opening night is April 19 so a little more than one month.  Think we're in good shape...if memory holds.

Knock Knock - An Actor's Journey - Chapter 5

Act 3 is a beast!  We blocked it last night and trust me, it is a beast.

Gun shots, kitchen disasters, burnt pig and assensions.  You really start to question playwright Jules Feiffer and his level of medication in the '70s.  Sometimes you can find clues even the stage direction.  In one instance, the character Abe enters carrying a half empty glass of milk.  Half empty --- not half full?  Really Jules?

The show is fun.  Bizarre but fun.  We're having a great time.  In fact, if the audience laughs as much as we do everyone will have a really good time.

We do have some things to deal with.  We have a new light board that we're using to light the stage area for rehearsals.  Every 8 to 12 minutes or so it decides to take a nap and the lights go out.  Someone then has to press the GO button until it decides to wake up again.

Also, and most importantly, I'M SICK.  And I don't get sick.  Well, hardly ever anyway.  But like most things, life happens when you least afford it.

The show must go on.

Knock Knock - An Actor's Journey -Chapter 4

Last night we started getting Knock Knock on its feet.  The set crew must have had a busy Tuesday because we had some walls up which I did not expect but was grateful.  There’s a kitchen, albeit a kind of low third-world kitchen but a kitchen we can play with.  Right now we have a short stand of shelves for a stove and a 3 foot step ladder for a refrigerator but that’s really all we need at this point.  Imagination comes before reality or, in our case, illusion.

Costumes came first last night. The cast brought some of our clothes to see if they would work for costumes so Carol Browning our costumer would know what else she would have to find, buy or invent.  Thrift shop exist for the sake of theatre.  Little known fact. 

Nancy Winker who plays Joan of Arc had to be fitted with armor and chainmail befitting JArc (as she will be affectionately know) and apparently that was not something already in her closet.  The best part was when her chainmail pants kept falling down around her ankles.  Heavy suckers.

Blocking.  We started blocking act 1.  For anyone who might not know, blocking is essentially setting traffic patterns.  Unfortunately, if you put a group of people into a confined area and tell them to go and do anything they want whenever they want to do it, you end up with a bloody mess.  Blocking is choreography on a less balletic scale – it’s setting a traffic pattern so the actors don’t bump into the furniture or each other.  But it's also a fluid structure that provides a framework but allows for the flow of a performance.  Live theater, remember, every performance is different in some way.

I don’t know what technique our director Frances McCain uses to plan her blocking.  When I’ve directed I like to designate different chess pieces as different characters and move them on a piece of cardboard with the future and doorways drawn on.  What is consistent in almost all blocking plans is that when you actually put it on its feet, something won’t work.  You adjust on the fly and now the actors are your chess pieces.  Theatre, the ultimate collaborative art.

Blocking is laborious.  There’s no getting around it.  But it is incredibly essential.  Sometimes you will see a play and there is a scene that just seems awkward physically  -- too many people on one side of the stage so the stage is not balance visually, one actor blocking  or upstaging another, seeing a character perform an unnatural turn or (my personal irritation) actors in a straight line across the stage who aren’t Radio City Rockettes about to break into a kick line. While in some cases it may be that an actor made a mistake at a particular performance, chances are the director did not give enough attention to blocking and should therefore be shot.

So Act 1 is blocked, framework established -- subject to change.  Tonight we’ll run Act 1 again to drive it into our feeble brains and start blocking Act 2.  Two acts left to block.  Then we get all the lines in our heads.  Then we have fun.

Knock Knock - An Actor's Journey - Chapter 3

There are many techniques I’ve heard of over the years for memorizing lines.  There’s the “listening to a recording of a read-through” technique which is effective if you have a commute of some length.  There’s the “typing out script” technique which I have used on occasion especially when having to learn lines quickly.  That technique requires excellent focus so it can be effective but if you’re a lousy typist it can be counter productive.  Lavin Cuddihee, who plays Abe in Knock Knock (and is also my next door neighbor) told me he is using the “carrying the script in the back pocket of his jeans” technique.  The perception there is that lines are learned by osmosis as the words are absorbed through your butt.  Research results are still out on that one.

More often than not, I prescribe to the “bathroom” technique which is dependent on never going to the bathroom for weeks on end without taking your script with you.  I find it effective because, let’s face it, it’s quiet in there and there’s not much else to do.  If we go back to the Jeff Goldblum line in The Big Chill where he’s a People Magazine reporter and they are taught never to write anything longer than the average person can read during an average crap. 

In theater terms, those are called scenes.

Knock Knock - An Actor's Journey - Chapter 2

Rehearsals are over for the week.  We had 2 more read throughs and slogged through all the costume preliminaries, bios, headshots and contact info business.  That’s part of the process.

By the time we start putting the show on its feet next week, the Workshop which is now filled with the carcass remains of A Little Night Music will be cleared and we’ll start with the proverbial blank canvas.

This is a play where the set will be critical.  Richard Sharkey who directed A Little Night Music has designed the set so we have a floorplan as to what it will look like. As I mentioned before it’s part farce so that requires multiple entrances and exits.  (In a strict farce, there have to be at least 5 doors and preferably 7 and in any case it must be an odd number.  Why?  Because…well, because it does, that’s why.  Don’t be difficult.)

Now comes the arduous task of learning lines.  One of my favorite parts of the acting experience has always been when I receive my nice clean unmarked script and sit down with my yellow highlighter and mark my lines.  It’s much like plowing your garden.  It’s the first step in preparation.  Then start gathering the tools.

As a young actor I would happily scan each page for my character’s name, highlighter in hand ready to strike, mildly disappointed when a page didn’t call for my services.  As an older actor, however, I have become much less greedy.  Much less greedy.  With maturity, I have developed what I can only describe as Teflon brain --- meaning that the words go in just as easy as they used to but they have a tendency to slide back out again leaving you with an empty pan.  Oh, I’ll get them, don’t worry.  It’s my job to worry.