March 20th, 2006
|06:07 pm - I enjoy my muscles|
Moral of story, presented before the tale: Don't run into walls.
A major portion of my activity in Act 2 involves running across the stage. One pass is a hurried run but enjoyably lopy; the second pass is a full-out 50 meter dash. The stage directions include the phrase "beating the Olympic speed record" or somesuch. You will probably agree with me that a 200+ pound gentleman beating the Olympic speed record at anything besides, say, falling over, will indeed generate quite a bit of comedy.
My first few run-throughs happened yesterday. I haven't run so much onstage since I played Teddy in Arsenic & Old Lace. That run, charging up the stairs of "San Juan Hill", proved very precarious as our two-story set, of course, wasn't fully finished off. Once I dashed up the steps, crossed the balcony and ducked behind a partition, the floor disappeared. There was one crossbeam that, provided I hit it right, let me skip across the scaffolding to a small platform where one of the techs usually hung out. After the first few full runs I felt comfortable on it, but every time I blew that damn bugle and hollered "CHAAAAAAAAAARGE!" I always entertained some small notion in my mind that I'd run full-tilt up the steps, miss the crossbeam, and plummet down into the Panama Canal. It's that fear that really helps drive the spontaneity of a performance, I believe.
Right now my run across the stage for You Can't Take It With You isn't as precarious, as I stay pretty much on ground level the entire time, but owing to the stage setup, it's no less dangerous. The inner foyer and "front door" dangle off stage right, and there's a sharp 90 degree turn to the right so you can get backstage after disappearing into the foyer. My runs go from back stage left all the way to this foyer, then thru the front door. It's gonna be hard to stop and make that 90-degree turn. In fact, yesterday, when I ran, I decided not to let up, and slammed full-on into the house wall. With my arms outstretched.
The upshot of this is that I pulled something very nicely in my left bicep. I can feel the pull when I extend the arm out, or if I bend my arm as if I was leaning on something. Like I just did. Ooh, but it's a cleansing pain. And never let it be said a Noyes doesn't suffer for his art.
When I was in a play with an amateur theatre company, my backpack was stolen out of our makeshift green room / change room during the first performance. On the second weekend I was playing ball in the park with other cast members between performances, and caught a baseball with my teeth. (During the third weekend, we all got really smashed and I think I was probably the only one not hung over.)
No, it wasn't
Mac the Scottish Play.
You know, I haven't had my first rehearsal for this show yet! I don't start til April. I should show up just so people remember I'm in it!
As Neil Innes once said, before launching into a song: "Ladies and gentlemen, I've suffered for my art. Now it's your turn."
My first few run-throughs happened yesterday.
Run-throughs! Ha ha ha! Good one!
Wait. Was that a joke or not?
|Date:||March 21st, 2006 02:37 pm (UTC)|| |
I'm sure you could talk to lifecollage
and A) get a ramp attached to the platform you will be running off and B) attach a pillow or some kind of soft person to help stop you when you get offstage so no further damage will ensue.
We sacrifice gall bladders for the shows, we do not sprain or break anything. Are we both clear on this? There is precedent!
I was in "Arsenic and Old Lace!" And "You Can't Take It With You!" Well, in high school, anyway. At the time I considered it to be leh-git-uh-mate thee-eight-er, in any case.
I never ran into any walls or off any scaffolding, but I was tackled by a huge black guy who was affecting a Russian accent, and mock-kissed by the most religious girl in our class, who probably thought she was going to hell for it. That was a fun show.
Clearly you need some massage therapy.
D'you think you can recommend someone? :)