Thursday Jersey

Lovely show tonight. Getting fuller. We had a brilliantly conflicted review in The Bailwick Express where she went expecting to hate it and remembered to have fun. She was one of the only people I’ve known to give a straight “no” to Scrooge when he looks for a dance partner in Fezziwig’s Ball. She thawed considerably by the end. I had no idea she was a reviewer. But she was. Not for the Jersey Evening Post, which is the holy grail. But in their absence I’ll take The Bailwick Express and her strangely reluctant enjoyment and understanding of what it is to do immersive theatre. Aylar the violinist had a similar reaction to the writer’s wonderment at her playing violin “with no sheet music”…

Adam the producer often says that, with the opera house having been closed for so long, the people of Jersey are used to only having amateur offerings. To have something that is produced, that is clean when it needs to be clean, that, essentially, is professional… They aren’t expecting it. Yes this show invites some flowing. It is the result of my and Jack’s work with TC and The Factory where we try and mix fixed with flowing so it is simultaneously alive and coherent.

Last night the sound guy queued a child shouting “fuck off” as I raised a bittersweet glass to absent friends at the end. There are still strange and gorgeous moments of chaos. The audience interaction tonight was so deeply satisfying, and we’ve really nailed down the tech. Will and I have started to learn basic telepathy although we can only do easily missed monosyllables, unlike Jack and I who can have full and instant conversations and frequently did.

I’m enjoying not having to think about chairs and candles etc. Stage management is doing most of my pre-show checks. I then do them again but I don’t have to be there hours before the show to help launder tablecloths and sweep up detritus and work out how the hell everyone is going to sit down and eat.

My only great sadness is that the little Portuguese place over the road will be closed from tomorrow. They are all off home for Christmas. No more lava hot coffee for a pound and cheap cake. No more steak and cheese baps for two quid. They’ve stopped me from blowing half my fee by being cheap.

Company drinks. Two shows tomorrow so I won’t have loads. But I’ll certainly have a few…