theatre

Life now officially belongs to All My Sons. Rehearsals are off and running and my mind is continually blocking and re-blocking scenes and discovering new things about the Kellers, Baylisses (don't say that fast), Deevers and Lubey's. My iPod is filled with music from the 30s and 40s. I have been singing Sinatra in my head for weeks. Humming to Count Basie, Artie Shaw and the Jimmy Dorsey band. Glen Miller has me sashaying (okay limping) down the halls as I Accentuate the Positive.

I am carefully considering what exactly motivates X to do Y and what can I put on that stage to draw Z up right so that the focus can be on Q on the line.... "blah blah blah". And what if L says that line to belittle N instead of to defy N? Will that change the whole scene? How will it affect N and N's lines? Will it read? Will it move the scene where we need it to go? Do we want that from this character and at this moment? And why doesn't V just stand, stock still on that line rather than cross down left?

Keep it simple. Fight. Where's the fight? Life and death, its all life and death, blood and guts and glory. Raise the stakes, up the ante, make them work for it. Want it. Breathe it. Destroy for it. At all costs, get what you want from each other and win. That's what you should see on a stage. Always. Its what it's all about.

Directing is life consuming. It eats up everything you have left at the end of the day. By February I am going to be completely drained of all creativity and I will swear to the heavens that I will never do it again. Ever.

And then the theatre goes dark on February 16th and I'll already be searching for the next show, the next great opus.




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