“Banquet” is a little optimistic for the meal I just had. £42 for a duck leg and some sponge cake. I booked it in advance dreaming of gourmandisation. It wasn’t terrible, nor was it worth £42. But sometimes you roll the dice and win. And sometimes you get a bit of dry duck and school potatoes.
Thankfully the company at the table was diverting. Local people, similar age to me, very keen theatregoers. Mum would have been friends with them, but would have randomly chosen one of them to secretly disdain. I reckon I got lucky. They were very good at small talk. My table neighbour has a group that meets regularly and does Shakespeare on zoom. Delightful. They did Maccers recently. “Are you being paid to be here?” “I wouldn’t be here otherwise”. ‘Have you ever worked at Chichester Festival Theatre?” “No, to my chagrin I’ve never auditioned for it. But I went with my mother to see Art there many years ago. I’d love to work there. What have you seen there recently that you’d recommend?”
Gatekeepers, gatekeepers, gatekeepers, everywhere. I don’t actually know who casts for Chichester. Might be worth a letter. You never know what’s round the corner. It feels like, despite my occasional moaning, every day I deepen my connection with my work and my industry, and the things come when they come. I’d love to do some regional theatre. It was delightful being in Stratford. You experience the country from a different perspective.
Once again some lovely jobby meetings are outstanding so it definitely isn’t all doom and gloom. My agent is wonderful still, God Bless her and all who sail in her. And I’m continuing to draw lines across and make friends across this bananas profession I’ve made my home in.
Today I woke up and ran lines from Marc Antony in the yoga tent over a coffee. Then I drove to the parking lot of the local pub and sat there with the air con blasting out in order to zoom a rehearsal to London. This is the Meisner group that I’ve found, that has found me. I feel very held and happy in the group after just a week. It’s hard work but it’s good work. I’m a lucky boy and I need to stop moaning.
So I sat in the cold car in the car park and worked with the Meisner people for most of my working day. I skipped my lunch ahead of that dry duck leg dammit. Loved the rehearsal and zoom is not my friend.
Got back on site at about 5pm and I had forgotten how hot the world is after the air con in my car. I went and threw some Romanesque flashes over my clothes, ate my expensive supper, and went to help out with the guys who were doing the first scene of Julius Caesar to the waiting audience before Mary Beard’s talk. I was mostly flyering for our Macbeth on Sunday. “You liked that Shakespeare? Guys we got more Shakespeares for ya! We got as much Shakespeare as you could want. Ghosts? Blood? Iambs? We got the lot, kid. And great big wooden swords.”
Mary Beard is talking about the ancient world. “They didn’t know what they looked like”. She’s not as well attended as I thought she would be so I came and sat at the back. “Can you imagine what it would be like to be a human being who didn’t recognise themself?”
Having been in a zoom meeting all day I find it strange to contemplate, as zoom tends to like to serve us ourselves. What changed when we all started to know what we look like?
Who knows? But I’m gonna stop writing and plug in closer to what this pleasant and thoughtful lady has to say to us. I’ve had many friends over the years like Mary. Brilliantly clever ladies who give very few fucks. The world needs as many of them as possible.
