Belvoir St. Typecasting Blues

It is possible and probable I have mentioned some of my theatre experiences, limited though they may have been. I was thinking about them the other day, and rather bore everyone with a long, detailed post of all the things I have done, I figured I would impart some bullet point wisdom of my experiences in condensed form. But first, a tiny bit of background. Most of my work occurred from 1990-1998 and not all years then and I have worn pretty much every hat in the business except costume designer and make up (though I can do my own make-up, pretty easy for men). Mainly, my background is in acting, directing, writing and producing. I have written a couple of one-act plays, though I have lost my favorite one and need to write it again some day (a then homage now tribute to Douglas Adams and other science fiction writers), but never actually directed them. Strangely, my writing includes dramatic criticism and I won an award for it at a festival I originally was not going to attend. Even though I have not been in a production in several years, I would like to revisit the stage in some capacity, simply for the enjoyment. And I think, if finances ever suited, I would like to open my own theatre someday as well. As for the rest, I offer what few pearls of wisdom I can and perhaps a few anecdotes from those strange and enjoyable days.

1) You never know when you might be working with a future Academy Award winner: In 1992, while at the University of New South Wales, I managed an internship at the Belvoir St. Theatre in Sydney. I had already done one production that fall (more on that later) and was attempting another that wound up falling through, and was rather keen on seeing what this production was all about. It was an adaptation of Aristophanes' Frogs that was written in Aussie vernacular. Basically, my job boiled down to doing whatever the production company wanted me to do and I pretty much learned a great deal than I had ever known about lighting, sound, set design, stage management, rehearsals and blocking in those 9 weeks. As it turned out, the cast was delightful, and far more professional than my experiences in theatre had led me to believe. During rehearsals, when I was not assisting in manual labor (like building the set, putting up lights, etc), I got to know some of the cast, and of course the director, Geoffrey, who wound up winning an Oscar for his performance in Shine, and has been brilliant in most everything I've seen him in. Oh, also in Frogs was a young woman named Toni, who became known for her role in The Sixth Sense and, more recently, Little Miss Sunshine.

2) You never know when your real accent will be considered a poor imitation of said accent: While it is true I have a very flat accent for an American, and therefore non-existent as a Texan (which has helped at times overseas), I should hardly think I sound like I am trying to put on an American accent, especially when I was using my normal speaking voice. Admittedly, some have mistaken me for a Canadian or Californian, but I would have thought my continuous use of y'all in conversation would at least give away something. In any event, I was in another Greek play when I was in Australia so many moons ago, and we were doing the less humorous Medea, and I had the part of the tutor of Medea's sons. From a historical point of view, my accent should have fit since in Greek times, many foreigners were used as tutors of nobility. However, one of the musicians relayed to me at the wrap party that a friend of his, in a very authoritative way, complained that my American accent was so fake. The musician then replied 'Really? That's so funny to know, considering he's from Dallas'. Needless to say, the lad's smugness dissolved faster than a slug in the Dead Sea.

3) Injuries and emergencies: You never know... Sometimes an injury or emergency surgery can change a performance, lose you a part, or force some serious improvisation. In my case, I have been the beneficiary of all three, if one can call it that. During the casting for a musical called Little Me (made famous for Sid Ceasar's performance as all the main male parts), I suffered through an emergency surgery (the details are not important except for the fact it was exceedingly painful) that forced me to miss the end of the auditions, although I had read well for one particular part that I had expected to get.(so well that almost the entire cast, even the guy who eventually got the part agreed I was best for it) I failed to call in the next day for class and the final auditions (silly me, I was unconscious from the pain), so the director/professor gave the part to someone else, who was a better singer no doubt. In the end, I wound up with multiple 'accented' parts (meaning I did something like 6 accents in the play, sort of a running gag), which to me, turned out to be more fun in the end.

When doing Romeo and Juliet, my best friend had the parts of Romeo and Mercutio on alternating nights, and I was playing Balthasar, his faithful manservant, so Ihad more dialogue with him than any other person I was involved with, including an important scene in the last act. During the third act one night, just after Romeo kills Tybalt, Benvolio is supposed to rush him off stage. In a fit of adrenaline, the Benvolio pushed a little too hard causing Adam to severely sprain his knee (he later found he had a slight ACL tear I think). Thankfully, we had an intermission, but he was in excruciating pain during the rest of the performance, shortening the play considerably. In the early fifth act, about all he could say was 'I defy you stars!' negating any pertinent information I was supposed to tell him... I will tell you improving iambic pentameter is rough. He gutted it out and finished the run, though we had to modify his fight scenes some due to his knee.

4) You never know when you have to direct a play that has already been cast: 'Grease: You're the One that I Want' notwithstanding, in theatre, the director makes all the casting decisions (unlike say, film). However, I had just finished one play and was requested to direct another at the behest of the writer of the play I had just directed. The problem the play was already cast and I had to begin immediately (I had not quite 5 weeks of rehearsal). Being masochistic back then (1998), I agreed and embarked on one of my more bizarre theatrical experiences. First off, the cast was not quite what I wanted, but I had no choice, since I was lucky that the whole play was cast. It had 15 parts (and all 15 had to be on stage at once) I think, and that was immense for a one-act. So, I did the best I could, but with all the school schedule conflicts and such, the only time we could rehearse was after 10pm at night, and I even had to deal with conflicts on the day of dress rehearsals (so I turned our tech into a full dress to help those who had to miss), and since the conflicts were school conflicts, I had to deal with it. Secondly, the staging was tricky because it was set in a high school classroom and I was in a thrust stage, therefore someone was always going to have their back to the audience. Thankfully, I was able to minimize it, and the play turned out pretty well... in fact, had a full house both nights. I admit, I was pretty proud of the show all things considered.

5) Finally, I think Stage Combat Instructors are jealous of Fencers: In stage combat, the object is to make a deadly art look flashy. In fencing, the idea is to 'kill' your opponent. Needless to say, Stage Combat people don't care for fencers that much, mostly because it is tricky to unlearn your footwork. Either way, I am sure it is jealousy :)

That should cover the high(and low)lights of a sort, and I am still fond of the experiences. Maybe I will return to the stage in some respect one day.

C.