Another openin'...
So, Hay Fever opens Thursday night!
Good God, I must be completely potty! I fell asleep for an hour and barely ate, and now I am awake despite wanting to sleep. This always happens. It seems that no matter how many shows I have done, I still find myself unable to sleep. It's like Christmas again! There is the excitement of opening and finally having an audience. The worry about everything going off without a hitch. (Who am I kidding? What I mean is, making it look like everything went off without a hitch to the audience, producers, and theatre managers.) There is the joy of live theatre, and as a stage manager or director, there is the pride in the show; the love of your new found family that has come.together every night for the last month. So, once again, I find myself unable to sleep properly the night before a show.
Hay Fever also has a special place in my heart. It has bookended my undergraduate career. The first show I ever saw at Northeastern Illinois University, at this theatre, was in August of 1997. I was a new freshman. Now, the last show I will be working on as an undergraduate is Hay Fever. The first production starred three women who would become close friends years later. (The woman who played Judith -whom I saw and was totally "I will never be able to work with a woman as talented as that" - is Tina. Tina is the Executive Director of my theatre company, a close friend who finds me lovely purses, and who held my hand when they operated on my knee in December.) My best male friend, Michael, also ran sound on that production. In this production I finally got to work with my theatre mom as a director (and her husband is such a stage door dad, but that's a good thing). I got to work with a lovely couple that I have been blessed to have known over the last year. It is a special show on many levels.
I have also found out with this production that an Assistant Director has to be a Gal Friday. I assistant directed, stepped in as stage manager, taught the stage manager (the joys of a university setting), get to create high tea and a full breakfast in a corner of the green room with a paring knife, a microwave, two containers and a spoon. Add to that sound design, more teaching, doing all the food props and dishes, and a plethora of other things.
Is it worth it? Yes. Am I like a kid on Christmas Eve? Yes. Would I give up my dysfunctional theatre family? Not if I can help it.
The moral of this story? What a mad, muddled route life will take, but we need to enjoy the ride. Great, now I'm getting melancholy, acting all sad and beautiful. So, why don't we all grab a cuppa and wait for the curtain to rise together?
Posted via LjBeetle