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.
Sunday, March 18
The importance of food
Today followed an interesting pattern. Paint some bricks. Have a cuppa. Paint some more bricks. Eat (Big cooked breakfast). Paint some more bricks. Have a cuppa. Paint some more bricks. Have a cuppa. Paint some more bricks. Have a pint. Paint some more bricks. Watch the rugby (first half). Paint a few quick bricks. Watch the rugby (second half). Cry. Paint some more bricks. Eat (Big curry). Paint some more bricks. Attend to the requirements of nature. Have a cuppa. Paint some mortar. Eat (Big chocolate chip muffin). Paint some more mortar. Come home.
That is of course an over simplification. I had more cups of tea and coffee than that. I also haven't mentioned that my brick painting sponge fell apart twice, so dangerous repaired it twice and then the third time I happened tto mention that it would be good if it had a handle on it... and I was given a new sponge cut to size fixed into a specially made wooden box with a handle on it.
Keli did most of the mortar. She also did most of the shouting during the rugby. She supports Wasps so she's obviously a very special and lovely rugby fan.
Footnote and previous producer masterminded the breakfast, or rather brunch. The first time we have ever had sausage, eggs, bacon, beans, fried bread and toast at the hall. It was a great idea as it meant we had a good long afternoon to get things done. Nice.
The curry we had in the evening was excellent too. Director her didn't partake though after last night's experience. She still had a lot of crawling on her hands and knees to do. But the food over these long and tiring sessions is important. There is a delicate balance of stodge and grease to be consumed. I was concerned that set man might have upset his metabolism by having two glasse of orange juice with breakfast. He seemed to be OK though.
Ysabell and Albert created DEATH's world in shades of black. Set man and dangerous sorted out secretary's position on the door so her head was comfortable. Footnote showed off her calligraphy skills for the books in DEATH's library.
Director her tackled the Michaelangelo again. She was there in the evening. Director him was down supervising during the day. Box office painted the fireplace, went off to a party (one of our members 18th birthaday) and then came back at midnight to finish it. High priest, dangerous and set man hung one drop. And then at the end they painted the extension to the stage black. All in all a good day's work.
Thought for the day: 'An army marches on its stomach' I'm not sure whether that was Napoleon or Wellington or someone from a completely different time and place, but it's a good quote so I'll stick with it. I'll check for tomorrow.
That is of course an over simplification. I had more cups of tea and coffee than that. I also haven't mentioned that my brick painting sponge fell apart twice, so dangerous repaired it twice and then the third time I happened tto mention that it would be good if it had a handle on it... and I was given a new sponge cut to size fixed into a specially made wooden box with a handle on it.
Keli did most of the mortar. She also did most of the shouting during the rugby. She supports Wasps so she's obviously a very special and lovely rugby fan.
Footnote and previous producer masterminded the breakfast, or rather brunch. The first time we have ever had sausage, eggs, bacon, beans, fried bread and toast at the hall. It was a great idea as it meant we had a good long afternoon to get things done. Nice.
The curry we had in the evening was excellent too. Director her didn't partake though after last night's experience. She still had a lot of crawling on her hands and knees to do. But the food over these long and tiring sessions is important. There is a delicate balance of stodge and grease to be consumed. I was concerned that set man might have upset his metabolism by having two glasse of orange juice with breakfast. He seemed to be OK though.
Ysabell and Albert created DEATH's world in shades of black. Set man and dangerous sorted out secretary's position on the door so her head was comfortable. Footnote showed off her calligraphy skills for the books in DEATH's library.
Director her tackled the Michaelangelo again. She was there in the evening. Director him was down supervising during the day. Box office painted the fireplace, went off to a party (one of our members 18th birthaday) and then came back at midnight to finish it. High priest, dangerous and set man hung one drop. And then at the end they painted the extension to the stage black. All in all a good day's work.
Thought for the day: 'An army marches on its stomach' I'm not sure whether that was Napoleon or Wellington or someone from a completely different time and place, but it's a good quote so I'll stick with it. I'll check for tomorrow.
Saturday, March 17
Bricking it
It took footnote and producer about 3 hours tonight to 'tidy up' some of the brickwork on the inside of Cutwell's cottage. We have now finished a third of it. Two more walls, including a fireplace in one of them, to go. We reckon on that basis about another 18 hours should be enough to finish it...
Director her spent the evening on her knees working on the Michaelangelo backdrop otherwise known as the Unseen University. She didn't feel too well afterwards - doing that after a large Chinese meal didn't help.
Set man and dangerous completed building the corner of the set for DEATH's study & library and the evening ended with the two of them fireproofing the front of the stage. Funnily enough this prompted a mass exodus from the hall due to the dangerous radioactive cloud which descended as they did it. Not pleasant.
Director him and previous producer were also there working away and high priest, lord bless his soul, turned up after work... having finished at 10.15pm.
Downer of the night was secretary arriving at the hall after having been up to London to see The Sound Of Music, to tell us that her car had been broken into at Langley station. Apparently the show was great.
Tomorrow we are having a very big brunch. Footnote is turning the hall kitchen into a full blown restaurant...
Thought for the day: 'All in all it's just another brick in the hall.' Trad arr Cole.
Director her spent the evening on her knees working on the Michaelangelo backdrop otherwise known as the Unseen University. She didn't feel too well afterwards - doing that after a large Chinese meal didn't help.
Set man and dangerous completed building the corner of the set for DEATH's study & library and the evening ended with the two of them fireproofing the front of the stage. Funnily enough this prompted a mass exodus from the hall due to the dangerous radioactive cloud which descended as they did it. Not pleasant.
Director him and previous producer were also there working away and high priest, lord bless his soul, turned up after work... having finished at 10.15pm.
Downer of the night was secretary arriving at the hall after having been up to London to see The Sound Of Music, to tell us that her car had been broken into at Langley station. Apparently the show was great.
Tomorrow we are having a very big brunch. Footnote is turning the hall kitchen into a full blown restaurant...
Thought for the day: 'All in all it's just another brick in the hall.' Trad arr Cole.
Wednesday, March 14
Liking one another's company
It's a good job that the core group in Cast all get on. Set man pointed out tonight that we would see one another every day now until a week on Tuesday. Director her, producer, previous producer, box office and set man had the final production meeting tonight. We met at The Crown in Chertsey, venue for that first meeting which director her, director him and producer held all those months ago. A lot of water has flowed under the bridge since then.
I have just been delivered home by set man and previous producer. We have all been preparing ourselves mentally for the coming weekend. As always the list of jobs to be done, stuff to build and particularly things to paint is a long one. They will go up on the wall in the hall on Friday and be crossed off one by one. In many ways I enjoy this long weekend more tyhan any sane person should. Buit I guess it's the time when those key people bond and get on with it together to make the show for everyone else to take part in.
I could never sit on the sidelines and then turn up once it's all finished and go wow! haven't you done a lot of work. Even for Dick Whittington I was there for the weekend when I wasn't in the show. People just rely on one another - and as I say we must like one another's company.
Set build last Sunday was rather strange. First there was the Binky photo shoot. Then when director her and I got to tyhe hall there was the strange experience of being offered a bacon, egg or sausage sandwich rather than the usual bacon buttie we have. Our usual chef, bacon bitch was stranded in Portsmouth with dangerous because his car had gone kaput. I sent a crisis email to footnote on Saturday night explaining the trauma of the situation. And so we had a wonderful array of breakfast possibilities on offer to set us off for the day.
My actual contribution to the set was fairly minimal. I drew the outlines for a window and a door with director her. Well actually did the ones high priest had done free hand over again as his were a bit wonky. Then I started painting with box office... and got summoned so we could choreograph the fight scene between DEATH and Mort. Sword fight man was there to train us and work us hard so we mastered the moves. Knackering. It certainly wore me out. We had lunch and then did it all over again.
One amusing other incident saw director him and town crier drive off to do door-to-door delivery of our postcards. They headed off, did their own separate parts of the estate. Then director him returned to his car. And waited for town crier. And waited. And went to have a look for him. And waited some more. Town crier of course doesn't have a mobile phone. So director him waited some more. Then he called box office at the hall. Have you seen town crier? Oh yes. He's been back ages. What?! Yes, he walked back. Well I said amusing, director him was not that amused. But it did give us something to take the mick out of town crier over during lunch...
Thought for the day: 'We go together like rama-lama-lama-de-dinga-de-dingy-dong' Bizarre song from Grease. Albert will no doubt tell me that the lyrics are wrong, which they probably are. But he told me I had the lyrics to Wild West Hero wrong today and I checked on the insert for the CD and I had got it right, so there!
I have just been delivered home by set man and previous producer. We have all been preparing ourselves mentally for the coming weekend. As always the list of jobs to be done, stuff to build and particularly things to paint is a long one. They will go up on the wall in the hall on Friday and be crossed off one by one. In many ways I enjoy this long weekend more tyhan any sane person should. Buit I guess it's the time when those key people bond and get on with it together to make the show for everyone else to take part in.
I could never sit on the sidelines and then turn up once it's all finished and go wow! haven't you done a lot of work. Even for Dick Whittington I was there for the weekend when I wasn't in the show. People just rely on one another - and as I say we must like one another's company.
Set build last Sunday was rather strange. First there was the Binky photo shoot. Then when director her and I got to tyhe hall there was the strange experience of being offered a bacon, egg or sausage sandwich rather than the usual bacon buttie we have. Our usual chef, bacon bitch was stranded in Portsmouth with dangerous because his car had gone kaput. I sent a crisis email to footnote on Saturday night explaining the trauma of the situation. And so we had a wonderful array of breakfast possibilities on offer to set us off for the day.
My actual contribution to the set was fairly minimal. I drew the outlines for a window and a door with director her. Well actually did the ones high priest had done free hand over again as his were a bit wonky. Then I started painting with box office... and got summoned so we could choreograph the fight scene between DEATH and Mort. Sword fight man was there to train us and work us hard so we mastered the moves. Knackering. It certainly wore me out. We had lunch and then did it all over again.
One amusing other incident saw director him and town crier drive off to do door-to-door delivery of our postcards. They headed off, did their own separate parts of the estate. Then director him returned to his car. And waited for town crier. And waited. And went to have a look for him. And waited some more. Town crier of course doesn't have a mobile phone. So director him waited some more. Then he called box office at the hall. Have you seen town crier? Oh yes. He's been back ages. What?! Yes, he walked back. Well I said amusing, director him was not that amused. But it did give us something to take the mick out of town crier over during lunch...
Thought for the day: 'We go together like rama-lama-lama-de-dinga-de-dingy-dong' Bizarre song from Grease. Albert will no doubt tell me that the lyrics are wrong, which they probably are. But he told me I had the lyrics to Wild West Hero wrong today and I checked on the insert for the CD and I had got it right, so there!
Tuesday, March 13
Madness Part Two
Horses are animals with which I have very little experience. I have only ever ridden one seriously. And really it took me for a ride, lovely animal that it was. I didn't have to do anything. Australia 1990. I was staying in Queensland on the Sunshine Coast. I won't go into it because it will only make you jealous and make me depressed that I haven't been back since. Anyway, the guy I was staying with, his brother, their mum and I travelled into the backwoods away from the coast to Ipswich - a town that makes Colnbrook look like LA and Brands Hill like Hollywood.
It was fantastic though. Christmas Eve! Boiling hot and the reason for our trek was to visit the guys grandfather who owned a farm out there. I was given a pair of his old jeans to wear. Well shorts were not advised for a beginner. I got onto the beautiful grey horse. I posed for a picture looking very unsure of myself. Then off went the horse for a nice stroll, then a serious walk around the valley.
We headed back through the rainforest on the ridge between Ipswich and Brisbane and when we got to their mum's house looking out above the city it started. A lightning storm the like of which I have never seen before and may never see again. Warm rain. Flashes of forked lightning hitting every tall building to be seen. It went on for hours.
Those two things helped make Christmas Eve 1990 one of the best days of my life before meeting secretary. The Christmas Day that followed was pretty good too. Full cooked breakfast. Tennis. Full Christmas dinner. All in 40 degree heat. Bonkers but brilliant.
But let me get back to horses. Or rather Binky, aka Alfie Moon. What a lovely chap. Only four. A bit twitchy at first but pretty good when he had got used to us.
The great grey beast I am talking about is owned by someone who stables him at the same place as a man who travels on the train to London as previous producer. Remarkable the things you can lay on if you speak to the right people. We needed some photos taken for the press and for our programme somewhere, somehow and the concept of Warwick and/or any other castle had gone by the wayside. So there we were. Sunday morning. A farm in Middle Green backing onto Langley Park. Director her, producer, the ginger one, Albert and Ysabell.
Now this sort of special photo shoot has evolved through the years. The most famous was the first, arranged by producer, which saw us go to London to take pics for Moby Dick - The Musical. Dressed as schoolgirls and teachers and school staff. Including two blokes dressed as schoolgirls. I was assistant director for the show so I got to be the deputy head. As it was my idea too... Previous director was the headteacher as he produced and directed the show. We went to the Natural History Museum to have our pictures taken by set man with the gigantic Blue Whale. All before the museum had opened to the public. We did Trafalgar Square, Herman Melville's house, the Cutty Sark and the Greenwich Meridian among the many stops on our tour.
Since then other trips have included a trip to the Portsmouth Docks for Treasure Island, to Taplow railway station for Stranded and all over London again for Dick Whittington. But you can read all about that one at allaboutdick.blogspot.com.
Back to our horse. When it came to it, director her was the only one of us to get on Binky. She had already suggested that, and when we were told that Binky was only four and had never had a large flappy piece of material - or in our case DEATH's cloak - draped across it's back we knew she was right. Director her has experience with horses and it showed. So up she got onto this 17 hand beast to then put the cloak on once she was up there. Along with DEATH's mask. With producer's sunglasses taped into them. Prescription sunglasses. It was a sunny day, but as producer is blind as a bat the prescription meant she could barely see a thing.
It was very convincing though. Despite the foot gap in height between stand-in horse-riding DEATH and real but firmly rooted to the ground DEATH. Then Albert and the ginger one and producer had their pictures taken next to and leading Binky. And Ysabell had her picture taken dressed in pink looking demure leaning on a fence. Not as her character of course.
After all that it was off for the second set build... I'll tell you all about eggs, sausages and bacon tomorrow. Oh and swordfights as well.
Thought for the day:
'Ride the range all the day
Till the first fading light
Be with my western girl
Round the fire oh so bright
I'd be the indians friend
Let them love to be free
Riding into the sunset
I wish I could be'
Jeff Lynne. Wild West Hero. ELO. Out Of The Blue. And yes, they were The Beatles of the 1970s. And if you disagree i'll sort you out.
It was fantastic though. Christmas Eve! Boiling hot and the reason for our trek was to visit the guys grandfather who owned a farm out there. I was given a pair of his old jeans to wear. Well shorts were not advised for a beginner. I got onto the beautiful grey horse. I posed for a picture looking very unsure of myself. Then off went the horse for a nice stroll, then a serious walk around the valley.
We headed back through the rainforest on the ridge between Ipswich and Brisbane and when we got to their mum's house looking out above the city it started. A lightning storm the like of which I have never seen before and may never see again. Warm rain. Flashes of forked lightning hitting every tall building to be seen. It went on for hours.
Those two things helped make Christmas Eve 1990 one of the best days of my life before meeting secretary. The Christmas Day that followed was pretty good too. Full cooked breakfast. Tennis. Full Christmas dinner. All in 40 degree heat. Bonkers but brilliant.
But let me get back to horses. Or rather Binky, aka Alfie Moon. What a lovely chap. Only four. A bit twitchy at first but pretty good when he had got used to us.
The great grey beast I am talking about is owned by someone who stables him at the same place as a man who travels on the train to London as previous producer. Remarkable the things you can lay on if you speak to the right people. We needed some photos taken for the press and for our programme somewhere, somehow and the concept of Warwick and/or any other castle had gone by the wayside. So there we were. Sunday morning. A farm in Middle Green backing onto Langley Park. Director her, producer, the ginger one, Albert and Ysabell.
Now this sort of special photo shoot has evolved through the years. The most famous was the first, arranged by producer, which saw us go to London to take pics for Moby Dick - The Musical. Dressed as schoolgirls and teachers and school staff. Including two blokes dressed as schoolgirls. I was assistant director for the show so I got to be the deputy head. As it was my idea too... Previous director was the headteacher as he produced and directed the show. We went to the Natural History Museum to have our pictures taken by set man with the gigantic Blue Whale. All before the museum had opened to the public. We did Trafalgar Square, Herman Melville's house, the Cutty Sark and the Greenwich Meridian among the many stops on our tour.
Since then other trips have included a trip to the Portsmouth Docks for Treasure Island, to Taplow railway station for Stranded and all over London again for Dick Whittington. But you can read all about that one at allaboutdick.blogspot.com.
Back to our horse. When it came to it, director her was the only one of us to get on Binky. She had already suggested that, and when we were told that Binky was only four and had never had a large flappy piece of material - or in our case DEATH's cloak - draped across it's back we knew she was right. Director her has experience with horses and it showed. So up she got onto this 17 hand beast to then put the cloak on once she was up there. Along with DEATH's mask. With producer's sunglasses taped into them. Prescription sunglasses. It was a sunny day, but as producer is blind as a bat the prescription meant she could barely see a thing.
It was very convincing though. Despite the foot gap in height between stand-in horse-riding DEATH and real but firmly rooted to the ground DEATH. Then Albert and the ginger one and producer had their pictures taken next to and leading Binky. And Ysabell had her picture taken dressed in pink looking demure leaning on a fence. Not as her character of course.
After all that it was off for the second set build... I'll tell you all about eggs, sausages and bacon tomorrow. Oh and swordfights as well.
Thought for the day:
'Ride the range all the day
Till the first fading light
Be with my western girl
Round the fire oh so bright
I'd be the indians friend
Let them love to be free
Riding into the sunset
I wish I could be'
Jeff Lynne. Wild West Hero. ELO. Out Of The Blue. And yes, they were The Beatles of the 1970s. And if you disagree i'll sort you out.
Monday, March 12
Madness Part One
No blog for Friday, Saturday or Sunday. Why? Well it's been a bit busy, that's why. I'm not going to talk about work, because that's almost as bad as talking about problems with printers. No, I shall tell you of the fun of Saturday and tomorrow I shall run through Sunday and let you know just how good our rehearsal was tonight.
I brought the second batch of postcards home with me from work on Friday night and the task for Saturday was for secretary, director her and producer to tour the bookshops of the area leaving them by the tills.
Of course we started in Langley... with a cooked breakfast. We managed to get the butcher, the baker and the candlestick maker to put a poster up in their windows. Well the sandwich shop, the greengrocers and the hairdressers anyway. Plus a couple of others if we get lucky. And we paid (grrrr!) to put them in the Post Office and hardware store.
I think it might have helped that I was carrying a cuddly rabbit that secretary had bought in the Age Concern shop. I asked everyone behind the counters if they would like to say hello to George. Maybe they said yes out of sympathy. Maybe they said yes to get rid of me. Or maybe they said yes because they thought it was really amusing and if the play was as funny as me then it would definitely be worth seeing...
Slough was on the map for two reasons. I needed a haircut. Barber in Queensmere. 15 minutes. £10. Secretary happy. Director her happy. Sorted. The other being to visit the town's two bookshops, which the pair of them did while I was having my locks shorn. We were going to meet footnote and woman in street, but woman in street couldn't make it, so Maidenhead, where they were going, has been put on hold for the time being.
Then we split up. Secretary went off to Uxbridge while director her and producer headed for Staines on the way we picked up some sponge, black and grey wallpaper, burgundy wrapping paper, silicon sealant and medical tape. And probably some other stuff I have forgotten. Why? Well firstly we planned to make up my deathly mask later that afternoon. Secondly we wanted something to cover DEATH's books and Albert's book of spells.
We visited Ottakers or Waterstones or whatever the main bookshop in the middle of Staines is and then went to Books etc at Two Rivers. The sales assistant at the back counter wasn't too sure about taking the postcards. But. She called her manager down. And. He turned out to be a Pratchett fan. So. He was quite happy to take a pile of them.
Then director her and I had one of those moments which really make such an exercise worthwhile. Like they say, if you don't ask, you don't get... thus I asked whether he and his team would put a card in each of the Pratchett books on their shelves. He didn't like that idea, but when it was suggested that we could do it... he said the immortal word 'Yes' (or something rather longer but basically meaning the same thing for practical purposes).
For the next 15 minutes director her and producer could be seen working their way through two-and-a-half shelves worth of Pratchett books. It's about as good a direct marketing campaign as we are likely to get. The manager did OK out of it - we ended up buying two books ourselves.
We ended up back at home (arriving at exactly the same second as secretary) to work on DEATH's mask, only to find, after director her had gone to work fixing in the blue lights and the sunglass lenses, that the switch to turn the lights on was broken. Yet another job for set man.
So that was it for the day. Well apart from secretary testing me on my lines for about an hour and a half. It's the first proper session we have been able to do. We should have done it ages ago. Hey ho. Consequently though, I got no work done on the programme. That is my biggest current concern.
Thought for the day: 'Two budgies on a perch. One says to the other: "Can you smell fish?"' Source unknown. Well it's obvious really...
I brought the second batch of postcards home with me from work on Friday night and the task for Saturday was for secretary, director her and producer to tour the bookshops of the area leaving them by the tills.
Of course we started in Langley... with a cooked breakfast. We managed to get the butcher, the baker and the candlestick maker to put a poster up in their windows. Well the sandwich shop, the greengrocers and the hairdressers anyway. Plus a couple of others if we get lucky. And we paid (grrrr!) to put them in the Post Office and hardware store.
I think it might have helped that I was carrying a cuddly rabbit that secretary had bought in the Age Concern shop. I asked everyone behind the counters if they would like to say hello to George. Maybe they said yes out of sympathy. Maybe they said yes to get rid of me. Or maybe they said yes because they thought it was really amusing and if the play was as funny as me then it would definitely be worth seeing...
Slough was on the map for two reasons. I needed a haircut. Barber in Queensmere. 15 minutes. £10. Secretary happy. Director her happy. Sorted. The other being to visit the town's two bookshops, which the pair of them did while I was having my locks shorn. We were going to meet footnote and woman in street, but woman in street couldn't make it, so Maidenhead, where they were going, has been put on hold for the time being.
Then we split up. Secretary went off to Uxbridge while director her and producer headed for Staines on the way we picked up some sponge, black and grey wallpaper, burgundy wrapping paper, silicon sealant and medical tape. And probably some other stuff I have forgotten. Why? Well firstly we planned to make up my deathly mask later that afternoon. Secondly we wanted something to cover DEATH's books and Albert's book of spells.
We visited Ottakers or Waterstones or whatever the main bookshop in the middle of Staines is and then went to Books etc at Two Rivers. The sales assistant at the back counter wasn't too sure about taking the postcards. But. She called her manager down. And. He turned out to be a Pratchett fan. So. He was quite happy to take a pile of them.
Then director her and I had one of those moments which really make such an exercise worthwhile. Like they say, if you don't ask, you don't get... thus I asked whether he and his team would put a card in each of the Pratchett books on their shelves. He didn't like that idea, but when it was suggested that we could do it... he said the immortal word 'Yes' (or something rather longer but basically meaning the same thing for practical purposes).
For the next 15 minutes director her and producer could be seen working their way through two-and-a-half shelves worth of Pratchett books. It's about as good a direct marketing campaign as we are likely to get. The manager did OK out of it - we ended up buying two books ourselves.
We ended up back at home (arriving at exactly the same second as secretary) to work on DEATH's mask, only to find, after director her had gone to work fixing in the blue lights and the sunglass lenses, that the switch to turn the lights on was broken. Yet another job for set man.
So that was it for the day. Well apart from secretary testing me on my lines for about an hour and a half. It's the first proper session we have been able to do. We should have done it ages ago. Hey ho. Consequently though, I got no work done on the programme. That is my biggest current concern.
Thought for the day: 'Two budgies on a perch. One says to the other: "Can you smell fish?"' Source unknown. Well it's obvious really...
Thursday, March 8
Flash! Bang! Wallop!
We do all sorts of things on our stage, but in this show we need some pyros and using them causes all sorts of complications. When we did Wyrd Sisters all those years ago director her had several. This time it is all a little more restrained - just one for DEATH & Albert's disappearance in scene 21.
Of course such things require a certain amount of care. Setting fire to the front row wouldn't be a good idea really. After all they will have had a big meal during the interval. We don't want them getting indegestion while we run around putting them out with fire extinguishers.
Director her has been in touch with the people at Slough council who are responsible for issuing licences and we have to adhere to a number of key safety requirements to be given the go ahead. Most importantly, all the costumes of those people in the immediate vicinity of the big bang need to have their costumes fireproofed. As that includes me I think it is probably quite a good idea.
Fortunately director her, director him and producer are all trained at squirting stuff for work just in case something goes wrong. All the flats we have up were there at panto so they've been fireproofed already and the stage curtains are also protected so there shouldn't be any towering inferno.
It all adds to the complications though - but if you are doing a show with wizards or witches in it then a few magical pieces of stage action are likely to be required.
I shall now disappear....
Thought for the day:
'Roll up, roll up for the mystery tour
Roll up, roll up for the mystery tour
Roll up - and that’s an invitation
Roll up for the mystery tour
Roll up - to make a reservation
Roll up for the mystery tour
The magical mystery tour is waiting to take you away
Waiting to take you away'
Them scouse blokes
Of course such things require a certain amount of care. Setting fire to the front row wouldn't be a good idea really. After all they will have had a big meal during the interval. We don't want them getting indegestion while we run around putting them out with fire extinguishers.
Director her has been in touch with the people at Slough council who are responsible for issuing licences and we have to adhere to a number of key safety requirements to be given the go ahead. Most importantly, all the costumes of those people in the immediate vicinity of the big bang need to have their costumes fireproofed. As that includes me I think it is probably quite a good idea.
Fortunately director her, director him and producer are all trained at squirting stuff for work just in case something goes wrong. All the flats we have up were there at panto so they've been fireproofed already and the stage curtains are also protected so there shouldn't be any towering inferno.
It all adds to the complications though - but if you are doing a show with wizards or witches in it then a few magical pieces of stage action are likely to be required.
I shall now disappear....
Thought for the day:
'Roll up, roll up for the mystery tour
Roll up, roll up for the mystery tour
Roll up - and that’s an invitation
Roll up for the mystery tour
Roll up - to make a reservation
Roll up for the mystery tour
The magical mystery tour is waiting to take you away
Waiting to take you away'
Them scouse blokes
Wednesday, March 7
Do you trust the media?
No, I'm not referring to my own publications. Nor am I referring to town crier's newspaper or any of the other weeklies around here currently being pelted with press releases and interviews by producer geezer.
I am of course referring to our potential honorary president and one or two articles reporting problems with her health and the preview shows for Treats in the West End.
It seems so strange that what seemed to be a perfectly successful production when we witnessed the last night at the Theatre Royal in Windsor should hit so many problems. I can see it's been a tough run so far. Two weeks at Windsor, then with just a break on each Sunday a run at Great Malvern, then Bath and finally Richmond. They had no break then before hitting the stage at the Garrick Theatre in London.
If you do believe the papers - and what is true is that the opening night has already been put back a week and may be put back further - then our Billie is having a pretty tough time of it. Poor health, stress, self doubt. Whatever is true, it seems like she has reached a crucial rubicon in her acting career.
Performing in a three-hander is demanding and this is her first theatre role as a leading lady. The irony is that her solo scene involves her sobbing her heart out deciding whether to call her boyfriend. The scene certainly gripped and drained me when I saw it and I should imagine it's pretty demanding to generate that level of traumatic effect time and time again.
Method acting is a serious business and if she is tapping into some daemons from her past to produce all those tears of despair then I could imagine she has got some pretty heavy shit floating arround in her head at the moment. Anyway, we shall wait to see. Personally I hope that they delay the opening night another three weeks until March 28 - to give her time to recover properly from whatever health problems she has - then I'll be able to get to the opening night with press tickets and review the show!
Thought for the day:
'I know the way that I want it to be
But you know that I'm gonna take my chance now
I'm gonna make it happen some how
And you know I can take the pressure
A moments wait for a life time treasure
Every girl wants you to be her boy
But I'll wait right here 'till it's my turn
I'm not the kinda girl who gives up just like that oh no'
The Tide Is High. Billie Piper. Walk Of Life.
Should have been her number one hit, but she opted out and so Atomic Kitten hit the top with it instead.
I am of course referring to our potential honorary president and one or two articles reporting problems with her health and the preview shows for Treats in the West End.
It seems so strange that what seemed to be a perfectly successful production when we witnessed the last night at the Theatre Royal in Windsor should hit so many problems. I can see it's been a tough run so far. Two weeks at Windsor, then with just a break on each Sunday a run at Great Malvern, then Bath and finally Richmond. They had no break then before hitting the stage at the Garrick Theatre in London.
If you do believe the papers - and what is true is that the opening night has already been put back a week and may be put back further - then our Billie is having a pretty tough time of it. Poor health, stress, self doubt. Whatever is true, it seems like she has reached a crucial rubicon in her acting career.
Performing in a three-hander is demanding and this is her first theatre role as a leading lady. The irony is that her solo scene involves her sobbing her heart out deciding whether to call her boyfriend. The scene certainly gripped and drained me when I saw it and I should imagine it's pretty demanding to generate that level of traumatic effect time and time again.
Method acting is a serious business and if she is tapping into some daemons from her past to produce all those tears of despair then I could imagine she has got some pretty heavy shit floating arround in her head at the moment. Anyway, we shall wait to see. Personally I hope that they delay the opening night another three weeks until March 28 - to give her time to recover properly from whatever health problems she has - then I'll be able to get to the opening night with press tickets and review the show!
Thought for the day:
'I know the way that I want it to be
But you know that I'm gonna take my chance now
I'm gonna make it happen some how
And you know I can take the pressure
A moments wait for a life time treasure
Every girl wants you to be her boy
But I'll wait right here 'till it's my turn
I'm not the kinda girl who gives up just like that oh no'
The Tide Is High. Billie Piper. Walk Of Life.
Should have been her number one hit, but she opted out and so Atomic Kitten hit the top with it instead.
Tuesday, March 6
Dazed and Confused
At rehearsal last night producer was about as much use as, well, a not very useful thing. I returned from a long weekend in Berlin with scud, domefur and virtual dildo during the afternoon and was very, very tired. Why? Because I had a little problem sleeping on Saturday night due to the other resident of my room having a ridiculously loud snoring session. Suffice to say I could still hear him with my iPod on turned up to full volume. I ended up sleeping on the bathroom floor...
That aside, it was a magnificent trip. Here is not the place to detail the full story, but a good weekend of footie (Hertha Berlin 2 Bayern Munich 3), sightseeing (Reichstag, Checkpoint Charlie, Brandenburg Gate, Holocaust Memorial) and food (Oscar Wilde pub, a Spanish restaurant on Ku'damm and an Italian restaurant in Charlottenburg).
Now though, it is time to get on with the crucial few days before the show hits the stage. We have three more rehearsals before the dress. OAP show is two weeks tonight. While I was away the set man, dangerous and the rest of the crew got the two extensions to our stage put up. It's nevert big enough for us so we have been adding two 4ft extensions which run the width of the hall onto the front of the stage. Normally we don't get to do this until the final weekend before the show, so it's great to get the chance to rehearse on the full size stage for four extra run-throughs.
Last Friday I had the posters and 5,000 leaflets delivered to the office and on Sunday some of the team walked around in the rain (it was fine in Berlin!) putting them through letterboxes in the village. Town crier got absolutely drenched, so secretary told me... There are plenty more waiting to go out over the coming days. I have the rest of the programme to put together and we have to sort out the pics with 'Binky', DEATH's white horse. Previous producer has lined up one for Sunday - DEATH, Mort, Albert and Ysabell assuming the ginger one can get up for 10.30am. I tried on my costume last night for the first time and it will be finished for Sunday. It should make great pictures.
Thought for the day:
'I had a dream, oh now,
Crazy dream, oh-hoh,
Anything I wanted to know,
Any place I needed to go.'
The Song Remains The Same.
Plant/Page/Jones/Bonham.
Houses Of The Holy.
Led Zep
That aside, it was a magnificent trip. Here is not the place to detail the full story, but a good weekend of footie (Hertha Berlin 2 Bayern Munich 3), sightseeing (Reichstag, Checkpoint Charlie, Brandenburg Gate, Holocaust Memorial) and food (Oscar Wilde pub, a Spanish restaurant on Ku'damm and an Italian restaurant in Charlottenburg).
Now though, it is time to get on with the crucial few days before the show hits the stage. We have three more rehearsals before the dress. OAP show is two weeks tonight. While I was away the set man, dangerous and the rest of the crew got the two extensions to our stage put up. It's nevert big enough for us so we have been adding two 4ft extensions which run the width of the hall onto the front of the stage. Normally we don't get to do this until the final weekend before the show, so it's great to get the chance to rehearse on the full size stage for four extra run-throughs.
Last Friday I had the posters and 5,000 leaflets delivered to the office and on Sunday some of the team walked around in the rain (it was fine in Berlin!) putting them through letterboxes in the village. Town crier got absolutely drenched, so secretary told me... There are plenty more waiting to go out over the coming days. I have the rest of the programme to put together and we have to sort out the pics with 'Binky', DEATH's white horse. Previous producer has lined up one for Sunday - DEATH, Mort, Albert and Ysabell assuming the ginger one can get up for 10.30am. I tried on my costume last night for the first time and it will be finished for Sunday. It should make great pictures.
Thought for the day:
'I had a dream, oh now,
Crazy dream, oh-hoh,
Anything I wanted to know,
Any place I needed to go.'
The Song Remains The Same.
Plant/Page/Jones/Bonham.
Houses Of The Holy.
Led Zep
Friday, March 2
Time Marches On
St David's Day, Daffodils, A Pinch & A Punch. Yes it's the first of March and that means it's scary time. We are counting down the days until the first performance. There's no complication like having to add together bits of February and bits of March. The dress rehearsal is on March 19. That's 18 days time. That's not very long. Gulp! Would I like a glass of water?
Actually, it's past midnight. Which means it's March 2. Bugger. Why did you have to go and spoil it all.
Ysabell was complaining tonight that I had fallen behind a bit and needed to be writing something every day. And let's face it, who would argue with anyone who carries a large pink bunny around with them. Well her father maybe. Especially when he's carrying a goldfish and a teddy bear. I bet she hasn't noticed that in the script. Hah! Never mind the scythe my girl just make sure your bunny doesn't come anywhere near my goldfish or my teddy will be having words.
Thought for the day: 'What's the difference between a bison annd a buffalo? You can't wash your hands in a buffalo.' Bad joke c22.02.07. I won't even begin to tell you who told me that, but she was in disguise - not wearing pink at the time.
Actually, it's past midnight. Which means it's March 2. Bugger. Why did you have to go and spoil it all.
Ysabell was complaining tonight that I had fallen behind a bit and needed to be writing something every day. And let's face it, who would argue with anyone who carries a large pink bunny around with them. Well her father maybe. Especially when he's carrying a goldfish and a teddy bear. I bet she hasn't noticed that in the script. Hah! Never mind the scythe my girl just make sure your bunny doesn't come anywhere near my goldfish or my teddy will be having words.
Thought for the day: 'What's the difference between a bison annd a buffalo? You can't wash your hands in a buffalo.' Bad joke c22.02.07. I won't even begin to tell you who told me that, but she was in disguise - not wearing pink at the time.
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