Two days off in a row and my first weekend since I stopped the old habitual glug. It has very much found it’s way into my habits. It’s hot, I’m thirsty, there are multiple bottles of white wine in the house. Spritser! But no, I made do with good old fashioned water out of the tap, herbal teas of different denominations and an entire pack of chocolate chip cookies.
Looking back it has been a remarkable first week of rehearsal. Very together company, lots of staff, lots of stuff. We have had meetings in rehearsals, where equity deputies have been selected, and health and safety advocates chosen from among the cast members. I’m thinking back to Rhys going through an unsecured trapdoor in Peter Pan and falling twenty feet in the dark. He landed like a cat in an empty space l space, but it could have been a very different story. We had a very shonky trapdoor in Blackwell’s and Maz hurt her fingers in it when it was closed and her fingers were in the hinge. Could have been much worse, if it had been a dramatic slam. Good to have someone keeping an eye on possibilities. I perhaps should have gone for Equity Dep, but I’m too busy trying to sort my own flat out before I go to Stratford. Plus my tax returns etc etc.
Creatively it is fertile, but I’m disappointed with myself for not keeping my singing voice in good nick. James the musical director knew me ten years ago and got good use out of my bass. I’ve let it slip. I wanted that Sowerberry in Oliver! up in Leeds for that reason – no matter if it’s a bad part, there’ll have been ensemble work and a shot at Fagin via understudy. My voice would have had a proper good long practice on the job, which is always the best way to learn.
I’m enjoying the text work. It’s about pushing us into the moment, coining it, not making noises that sound like speaking. But also it’s about rigour with text. The fixed and the flowing. It is back to that. And we are back at it tomorrow. And I can’t wait.
I’m full of chamomile, and Brian ordered a very expensive Dishoom mash up, involving all sorts of fart inducing wonders, enough so that I just got into a tepid bath on purpose and scrubbed myself pink.
Now I’m trying for an early bed and I’ve laid out juicing fruits for tomorrow and I’m enjoying working from home.
This evening I considered a night cap, sniffed a whisky bottle and was still repelled by the smell of alcohol. I think grandmother tweaked something in my strange brain. I did ask her to…
AlBarclay 