Just returned from paying in night. Actually that's rather an odd name. It used to be the time when people turned up to hand over all the money for the tickets they had sold. That's a long, long time ago. Now we are mainly paying out. Funds to all those who have run up huge credit card bills on behalf of the group by spending on wood, paint, props, materials etc. Strange how the old names stick.
Our party on Saturday night involved a moderate amount of drinking on my part but some outstanding word games with Ysabell, Albert, box office, high priest, director him and a whole range of others from time to time. This went on for a couple of hours. We all found out one thing. Don't pull your willie instead of the ripcord when using a parachute. Sound advice.
I was drinking Wychwood and Hobgoblin. Two of the ales in a case of 12 presented to me after the show in the bar. Black Magic chocolates too. But the things which mean the most to me are the card signed by all the cast, complete with photograph of DEATH and Mort and wonderful calligraphy, and the clapperboard and film reel with director her, director him and producer's names and the dates of the show written on.
Ysabell and Albert dropped secretary and me off at about 3.30am. The clocks had gone forward. What a nightmare.
We made it to set break at just after 10am, with footnote already in the kitchen putting her promise of bacon sausage and egg butties for the early arrivals into practice. I joined her, in the spirit of Harga's House of Ribs, having initially got to grips with some flats with a screwdriver. Then it was time to load up the van and take it to the shed. Amazingly this only took one trip as opposed to the three or even four it has often taken in the past. High priest, Albert, director him and producer unloaded and stowed away all the flats, platforms, chairs, stools and other assorted oddities and we were back to the hall in record time. We ended up sitting down eating a roast dinner in The George pub at the back of the hall car park by 3pm. When we got home, secretary and I both slept the sleep of the just and arose for only a couple of hours before returning to sleep more.
Today was fabulous. Warm and sunny. I spent a lovely hour or so with director her walking her dogs in Virginia Water, blowing the strains and aches of the week away, while secretary had the aftermath of a week of heavy make-up removed with a facial. Then the three of us spent a couple of hours over lunch and drinks outside the Rose & Crown chewing the fat about the aftermath of the show. Very relaxed and very pleasant. Certainly better than having to go back to work for the day.
So the sums are being done and we will find out how financially successful we have been. In terms of ticket sales, we have shifted a bigger percentage than any show since Stags & Hens in 2004 and before that Aladdin in 2002. Most of the costs seem to be under budget, so hopefully we will be in good shape. Director him will no doubt tell us at our committee meeting next Wednesday.
We also await the review from the National Operatic and Dramatic Association who came to see the show on Saturday night. This review is being done by a new rep, so there should be no holds barred as she doesn't know anyone from any past show. I know what I think, but I look forward to seeing it in print.
Thought for the day: 'Fly away on my zephyr, I feel it more than ever, And in this perfect weather, We'll find a place together.' The Zephyr Song. Red Hot Chili Peppers. Director her was playing it in her car. Tops.
Monday, March 26
Sunday, March 25
And so we face...
The final curtain. It has come and gone. The last two days went by in a blur. Out with Mother and Dad for lunch on Friday. Evening show. Curry. Coffee with them here on Saturday morning. Frantic rush around. Saturday matinee. Frantic rush between shows. Saturday night show. Party. Set Break. Post set break lunch. Sleep. All quite straightforward...
Well of course it's not straightforward otherwise I would have stopped there. It misses out the fact that secretary and I took Mother and Dad to the pub where acolyte has just started working for their lunch. Well to the Italian Restaurant section around the back. Very nice too. It misses out my long conversation about money and presents with director her outside the pub. It ignores the fact that once we had dropped them off at their hotel we raced into Slough for me to pick up a cake and present(s) for high priest's birthday. It doesn't mention that after that secretary and I then sped over to Taplow for her to buy a variety of things at a couple of shops.. while I was told to wait in the car. And it doesn't explain why we need to hold production meetings to discuss the set up for my special performance with my toes and bottom. Sorry, you had to be there. Well rather, you had to be part of the text communication. Only set man, box office, previous producer and secretary will have the faintest idea what that's all about. Hey-ho.
Friday's show was great fun. Maybe the thought of a curry afterwards stirred everyone into action. Maybe I was concious of Mother & Dad being in the audience. Maybe it was the fact that we had to squeeze in some tables at the back to accommodate the extra sales. But the finest performance of the night came from producer and Cutwell in the male dressing room as they were getting changed after the show, with a stream of witty conversation masking the full blown lovers' tiff that was raging behind them. Introduced set man to Dad. They discussed the relative merits of civil and mechanical engineering.
Secretary and I shared a table with the ginger one and the animal lover (they are married), box office and maid (they are not - thank the gods!). Good food. Didn't eat too much - I ordered two vegetable side dishes which I could share with the animal lover, who is a vegetarian plus. Normally I end up with way too much. Well that's what curries always end up like if you're not careful. And I'm not normally careful. Box office stayed overnight at ours. Goodie-goodie yum-yum was supposed to go to the curry and also stay at ours but didn't.
Saturday was a rush job with M&D round for coffee. I just about had time to shower before they appeared and ate breakfast once they had arrived. Dad was most impressed with the technical skills used to put the production together. Surprise, surprise! Secretary then spent ages trying to print out photographs from her laptop but wouldn't let me help.
The afternoon show wasn't packed, but there were plenty of people there who wouldn't have been able to make any other show. Previous producer and producer put in a great scene together at the job centre. The fight went well. And there were ploughman's lunches nleft over to have for supper between the shows. Secretary and I went to Budgens and Threshers in Langley to buy some stuff. She dropped me back at the hall to have my make-up retouched while she went home to pick up a red bow-tie and dress shirt for producer geezer to wear on front of house. And to have another go at the pictures.
Saturday night. I step out onto the stage. And there they are. In the front. At the middle table. Scud and previous chairperson. And they laughed all the way through. It was great. And I suddenly realised just how much I have enjoyed performing opposite the ginger one. Lots of laughs all round in fact. Right from the first scene. In the job centre (although my hood had dropped way too far down at that point). Even the Rite of Ashkente. That scene got better show by show. Another great fight. Both shows I gave the table a massive whack to knock the Duke's hourglass off. And at the end the ginger one and I hugged instead of just shaking hands.
Having been told by others (including Albert, doorknocker and director him) to pull my mask up for the walkdown I was instructed by director her to do so for the afternoon show. Albert said you take the bow as yourself not as your character. When I walked down for the final time I was apparently bright pink underneath the mask. It had been phenominally hot inside the mask every show. That one was just insane though. I came off after scenes one to six and was sweating then. After the fight and the final scene I could barely breathe. But the applause was wonderful. I think people applauded more when they saw who the man behind the mask was. We stepped forward together and bowed. Then we stepped back and bowed again. The curtains closed. They opened once more. We bowed. And then they closed for the final time. Hello Spider. What came after comes later.
Thought for the day:
'Now with the help of your good hands.
Gentle breath of yours my sails
Must fill, or else my project fails,
Which was to please.
....
Let your indulgence set me free.'
Epilogue spoken by Prospero. The Tempest. Shakespeare.
Well of course it's not straightforward otherwise I would have stopped there. It misses out the fact that secretary and I took Mother and Dad to the pub where acolyte has just started working for their lunch. Well to the Italian Restaurant section around the back. Very nice too. It misses out my long conversation about money and presents with director her outside the pub. It ignores the fact that once we had dropped them off at their hotel we raced into Slough for me to pick up a cake and present(s) for high priest's birthday. It doesn't mention that after that secretary and I then sped over to Taplow for her to buy a variety of things at a couple of shops.. while I was told to wait in the car. And it doesn't explain why we need to hold production meetings to discuss the set up for my special performance with my toes and bottom. Sorry, you had to be there. Well rather, you had to be part of the text communication. Only set man, box office, previous producer and secretary will have the faintest idea what that's all about. Hey-ho.
Friday's show was great fun. Maybe the thought of a curry afterwards stirred everyone into action. Maybe I was concious of Mother & Dad being in the audience. Maybe it was the fact that we had to squeeze in some tables at the back to accommodate the extra sales. But the finest performance of the night came from producer and Cutwell in the male dressing room as they were getting changed after the show, with a stream of witty conversation masking the full blown lovers' tiff that was raging behind them. Introduced set man to Dad. They discussed the relative merits of civil and mechanical engineering.
Secretary and I shared a table with the ginger one and the animal lover (they are married), box office and maid (they are not - thank the gods!). Good food. Didn't eat too much - I ordered two vegetable side dishes which I could share with the animal lover, who is a vegetarian plus. Normally I end up with way too much. Well that's what curries always end up like if you're not careful. And I'm not normally careful. Box office stayed overnight at ours. Goodie-goodie yum-yum was supposed to go to the curry and also stay at ours but didn't.
Saturday was a rush job with M&D round for coffee. I just about had time to shower before they appeared and ate breakfast once they had arrived. Dad was most impressed with the technical skills used to put the production together. Surprise, surprise! Secretary then spent ages trying to print out photographs from her laptop but wouldn't let me help.
The afternoon show wasn't packed, but there were plenty of people there who wouldn't have been able to make any other show. Previous producer and producer put in a great scene together at the job centre. The fight went well. And there were ploughman's lunches nleft over to have for supper between the shows. Secretary and I went to Budgens and Threshers in Langley to buy some stuff. She dropped me back at the hall to have my make-up retouched while she went home to pick up a red bow-tie and dress shirt for producer geezer to wear on front of house. And to have another go at the pictures.
Saturday night. I step out onto the stage. And there they are. In the front. At the middle table. Scud and previous chairperson. And they laughed all the way through. It was great. And I suddenly realised just how much I have enjoyed performing opposite the ginger one. Lots of laughs all round in fact. Right from the first scene. In the job centre (although my hood had dropped way too far down at that point). Even the Rite of Ashkente. That scene got better show by show. Another great fight. Both shows I gave the table a massive whack to knock the Duke's hourglass off. And at the end the ginger one and I hugged instead of just shaking hands.
Having been told by others (including Albert, doorknocker and director him) to pull my mask up for the walkdown I was instructed by director her to do so for the afternoon show. Albert said you take the bow as yourself not as your character. When I walked down for the final time I was apparently bright pink underneath the mask. It had been phenominally hot inside the mask every show. That one was just insane though. I came off after scenes one to six and was sweating then. After the fight and the final scene I could barely breathe. But the applause was wonderful. I think people applauded more when they saw who the man behind the mask was. We stepped forward together and bowed. Then we stepped back and bowed again. The curtains closed. They opened once more. We bowed. And then they closed for the final time. Hello Spider. What came after comes later.
Thought for the day:
'Now with the help of your good hands.
Gentle breath of yours my sails
Must fill, or else my project fails,
Which was to please.
....
Let your indulgence set me free.'
Epilogue spoken by Prospero. The Tempest. Shakespeare.
Friday, March 23
Not sharp enough
I forgot to take on the sword tonight. Bugger. Thank God the ginger one is pretty quick on the draw. Boy, does he need to be. Ysabell dropped her first line tonight. Was she annoyed? Too right. High priest got very upset with himself for missing a bit. I got most of the ones I had mucked up last night right. Apart from one fairly important one. And I got away with a momentary lapse in the crucial fight scene by breathing very heavily while I found time to think. The fight went well and the pyro scene was the best we have done it yet. Classic moment of the night though, apart from the sword, fell to box office. His line as the abbot 'I can remember all my lives' became 'I can remember all my lines'. Quality. One change of letter can a magic moment make.
Thought for the day: 'The pen is mightier than the sword.' That's why I forgot it. I'm a writer. I had a biro in my pocket.
Thought for the day: 'The pen is mightier than the sword.' That's why I forgot it. I'm a writer. I had a biro in my pocket.
Thursday, March 22
Trying to focus
Last night's performance was a bit of a catologue of errors. I'm not sure which was the funniest or most alarming. I got lost in the first scene (how bad is that?) and footnote (who has the unenviable job of prompting) had to feed the next line to the ginger one and so it looked like he was the knob. Cutwell, who had spent the day driving to Cwmbran and Wolverhampton (I think) had to be rescued by the ginger one when he dropped some lines. High priest managed to punctuate the beginning of one of footnote's pieces with 'hear me ye gods...'. The ginger one managed to walk on and cross the stage as footnote was starting another one of her pieces. I managed to hit the table to knock off the Duke of Sto Helit's hourglass as required... but so hard that Albert had to grab the table to stop it falling off the stage. Keli was late on for scene four to see her father get killed. Albert referred to me as 'DEATH, the bloke'. Town crier managed to kick the pyro as he went off so that it landed next to my feet. Oh and to top it all I forgot my best line...
I feel I have some kind of excuse as I spent three-quarters of an hour in the bar discussing whether the licensing issues with the premises supervisor, and later with him and previous producer. We were also discussing the absence of alcohol, in two respects, and the access and otherwise, to the bar for members of CAST. Not entirely the best way to focus for the start of the show. Shame really as I had enjoyed an excellent chilled out lunch with Albert.
I have also had some problems with the interior structure of the mask. The area around my chin collapsed on Tuesday night, and we fixed it, repositioned the mic and taped it in before the start yesterday. I didn't work. By the time I had walked on I was practically chewing it. It all ads to the amusement.
Thought for the day: 'Sylvia'. Now work that one out...
I feel I have some kind of excuse as I spent three-quarters of an hour in the bar discussing whether the licensing issues with the premises supervisor, and later with him and previous producer. We were also discussing the absence of alcohol, in two respects, and the access and otherwise, to the bar for members of CAST. Not entirely the best way to focus for the start of the show. Shame really as I had enjoyed an excellent chilled out lunch with Albert.
I have also had some problems with the interior structure of the mask. The area around my chin collapsed on Tuesday night, and we fixed it, repositioned the mic and taped it in before the start yesterday. I didn't work. By the time I had walked on I was practically chewing it. It all ads to the amusement.
Thought for the day: 'Sylvia'. Now work that one out...
Wednesday, March 21
God bless'em
I just love the OAPs. Every show they turn up, have a good time, enjoy the entertainment, have a cup of tea and biscuits, buy some raffle tickets and then clap everyone enthusiatically at the end. They love everything. At panto they love the smut. Tonight they loved the naughty words. They got most of the gags. They sympathised with Mort, empathised with Ysabell and recognised part of themselves in Albert. It's a great way to start the run.
All sorts of complications have arisen off stage, which I won't go into, but today I was running around all afternoon. Programmes. Pictures for front of house. Warning signs about the pyrotechnics. Posters showing who our fire officers are. I detailed most of it yesterday. To be honest, it's hard to tell what day it is. There were a lot of very obviously tired people around this evening.
I personally had an interesting time. I skipped a bit of dialogue in a scene with the ginger one. I got to wave my teddy, goldfish and tankard around. I had the best version of my scene with previous producer so far. I had the pyro go off up my trousers. I thoroughly enjoyed the big fight scene. But... the support inside the mask keeping my chin away from it caved in so I found myself chewing rather than speaking my way through the lines in the last two scenes.
Anyway, best thing is, here I am ready to go to bed at the earliest time for five nights. Marvellous. And I'm doing lunch with Albert tomorrow. What fun.
Thought for the day: 'There's a child in your eyes, And the child never dies, So keep the dream alive, With the aid of second sight.' Achilles Heel. Joseph Washbourn. Onka's Big Moka. Toploader.
All sorts of complications have arisen off stage, which I won't go into, but today I was running around all afternoon. Programmes. Pictures for front of house. Warning signs about the pyrotechnics. Posters showing who our fire officers are. I detailed most of it yesterday. To be honest, it's hard to tell what day it is. There were a lot of very obviously tired people around this evening.
I personally had an interesting time. I skipped a bit of dialogue in a scene with the ginger one. I got to wave my teddy, goldfish and tankard around. I had the best version of my scene with previous producer so far. I had the pyro go off up my trousers. I thoroughly enjoyed the big fight scene. But... the support inside the mask keeping my chin away from it caved in so I found myself chewing rather than speaking my way through the lines in the last two scenes.
Anyway, best thing is, here I am ready to go to bed at the earliest time for five nights. Marvellous. And I'm doing lunch with Albert tomorrow. What fun.
Thought for the day: 'There's a child in your eyes, And the child never dies, So keep the dream alive, With the aid of second sight.' Achilles Heel. Joseph Washbourn. Onka's Big Moka. Toploader.
Tuesday, March 20
Death unmasked
The tech rehearsal on Sunday and other associated items of work which followed it saw the late night shift finish at 2.10am. Last night I have already mentioned. Yesterday we were all up and tackling various chores by lunchtime. Here I am today having just finished my lunch (which is also my breakfast), ready to go again.
The consequences of such strange timekeeping are tiredness, bad spelling (just corrected the spelling of tiredness) and short term memory loss. They combined, along with a natural fear of being blown to pieces, to provide one of the more amusing moments of last night. Yes. OK. It was me. What do you want - a medal?
Scene 21 is the only one in this show with a pyro. We have had to fireproof all the costumes worn in that scene. Last night we had a visit from a fire safety officer to make sure we had done it all properly. Serious stuff.
The thing is, the scene has to be set behind another dropcloth. This means there's not much room for the pyro. That is, it's right underneath Albert and me at the point where it goes off. We're, basically, a pair of scaredy-cats. So we were protesting about this and I lifted my mask so it was on top of my head as we discussed the matter with director her, director him and set man. Tough. That's basically what we were told. So we started the scene. I spun around in dramatic fashion. Began my first word 'Bugger...' and Albert was laughing his head off. 'Oi DEATH pull your mask down.' Yes. OK. Bloody pyrotechnics. I blame them.
When it came to it the pyro was absolutely tiny. It exploded and we vanished... or rather, we did'nt vanish. I asked secretary who had finished her stint as doorknocker about it and she said there was a little pop, a waft of smoke and two people walked off the stage. Not exactly the vanishing effect you might hope for. Anyway the two of us felt rather pathetic for complaining...
Today secretary has to sort out the ordering of the wine, which she was told was under control weeks ago. I have to get posters done warning the audience about the pyro (!) and the use of strobe in the show to put up in front of house. I have to copy the poster about fire officers and general supervisors etc from the last show to put up. I have to sort out the front of house photos. I have to get the newspaper finished. I have to pick up the programmes. And I MUST remember to take down the teddy bear.
Thought for the day: 'Bugger'.
The consequences of such strange timekeeping are tiredness, bad spelling (just corrected the spelling of tiredness) and short term memory loss. They combined, along with a natural fear of being blown to pieces, to provide one of the more amusing moments of last night. Yes. OK. It was me. What do you want - a medal?
Scene 21 is the only one in this show with a pyro. We have had to fireproof all the costumes worn in that scene. Last night we had a visit from a fire safety officer to make sure we had done it all properly. Serious stuff.
The thing is, the scene has to be set behind another dropcloth. This means there's not much room for the pyro. That is, it's right underneath Albert and me at the point where it goes off. We're, basically, a pair of scaredy-cats. So we were protesting about this and I lifted my mask so it was on top of my head as we discussed the matter with director her, director him and set man. Tough. That's basically what we were told. So we started the scene. I spun around in dramatic fashion. Began my first word 'Bugger...' and Albert was laughing his head off. 'Oi DEATH pull your mask down.' Yes. OK. Bloody pyrotechnics. I blame them.
When it came to it the pyro was absolutely tiny. It exploded and we vanished... or rather, we did'nt vanish. I asked secretary who had finished her stint as doorknocker about it and she said there was a little pop, a waft of smoke and two people walked off the stage. Not exactly the vanishing effect you might hope for. Anyway the two of us felt rather pathetic for complaining...
Today secretary has to sort out the ordering of the wine, which she was told was under control weeks ago. I have to get posters done warning the audience about the pyro (!) and the use of strobe in the show to put up in front of house. I have to copy the poster about fire officers and general supervisors etc from the last show to put up. I have to sort out the front of house photos. I have to get the newspaper finished. I have to pick up the programmes. And I MUST remember to take down the teddy bear.
Thought for the day: 'Bugger'.
Stupid O'Clock
It's a quarter past four and I have just got home. That's 4.15am. We finished the dress rehearsal, which was excellent apart from a few prop and costume items which need sorting out, at around midnight. Then producer, director him, director her, footnote, set man, previous producer and mad new mug, aka stand-in landlord, did four hours of work. We finished and hung the unseen university drop cloth, director her's magnificent Michaelangelo, and completed the side flats to go with it. Then we tidied up. Paint, tools, brushes, trays, bits of paper, battery packs, half drunk cups of coffee... We then took pictures. Of director her with the Michaelangelo. And of us all under the clock. Then footnote drove me home. She said she felt more like fucknote. I feel like DEATH.
Thought for the day: 'Success is one per cent inspiration and 99 per cent persperation.' When I started typing that I could remember who said it. Now I can't. I think I'm too tired. Night, night.
Thought for the day: 'Success is one per cent inspiration and 99 per cent persperation.' When I started typing that I could remember who said it. Now I can't. I think I'm too tired. Night, night.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)