The Journey

It all started two months ago at the first production meeting for Scarborough Music Theatre’s South Pacific. The amazing South Pacific director and choreographer of Sweeney, Dot, turned to me after the meeting was over and said “So, why haven’t you booked your Sweeney audition yet?” Of course, I hadn’t originally planned on auditioning because I didn’t think I had what it took to be in a musical as awesome as Sweeney. Instead, all I could think to say was: “Well, I was waiting for just the right moment.” That’s when I knew I had two options: face the scorn of a disappointed Dot, or suck it up and go audition.

A couple weeks passed and I arrived at my audition prepared with a song I mostly knew, and the same monologue I had used for every audition since I was thirteen. I was nervous. Very, very nervous. This was the largest role I had auditioned for since I was ten. I don't remember many specifics about the audition, but I gave a respectable performance. Somehow, by the end of the night I had managed to leave a good impression with the audition panel, because for the first time in eight years, I had a callback. I was pleasantly surprised.

Then, at the callbacks, I was surprised once more. I was one of perhaps three men they had called for the role of Anthony. The others up for the role were, quite frankly, amazing. I could not believe that I had landed a callback alongside such talented actors. The callback sides went quickly and we were done in about a half hour. I was so nervous that night that I was up until one in the morning just thinking about every possible outcome.

The next day I checked my voicemail at lunch, and there was an urgent-sounding message from the producer with only two words: “Call me.” At this point I knew it would either be really good news or really bad news. So, I called her and she said to me, “We would like to offer you the role of Anthony–” I’m sure she said more, but at that point all I could think was ‘Holy crap. Am I actually hearing this?" and before I knew it, I had said yes.

Rehearsals started a few weeks after that fateful day. I was nervous on the first day of rehearsal. I already knew many of the people in the cast, but this was a large role, and for the first time in a while, one that didn't require any technical skills. The process had begun. I worked on what we’d rehearsed day and night. I rehearsed everywhere; in class, on the bus, in the shower, you name it. I was like a Sweeney junkie, I just had to get my fix. I’m pretty sure I was starting to annoy several of my classmates with my unrelenting 'I feel you Johanna's.

Then something terrible happened: winter break. I wasn't called for any rehearsals over the break. I felt like I was going to die. At first I convinced myself that everything was fine, that I would just keep reviewing the material. But as the days drew on I felt a growing sense of longing for a rehearsal with the full cast. At one point it got so bad that I nearly started listening to the Broadway recording to get my fix. Fortunately the break from rehearsals was only thirteen days long, so I was back before I knew it, no longer fighting the urge to listen to the soundtrack.

Act two was what we rehearsed next. Rehearsals went very well. We covered a lot of ground in a fairly short period of time, and I felt really good about what we had. We had a run-through of the second act, then the following rehearsal we stitched together the entire show. After that there were a mere two rehearsals until we loaded the show into the theatre.

Which brings us to today, January 27: load-in day. A very long and tiring day, given that we started moving set pieces on the truck at 9:30 in the morning, and finished our stumble-through of the show at about 10:00 at night, but it was a very productive day. There were many things that needed to be done and we finished a lot of them.

I’m proud to be working with such a dedicated cast and crew. There are so many talented people and each brings something different to the table. All I can say is that we’re going to have one amazing show when we open next week; I’m really looking forward to opening night. Yet at the same time I’m wishing that we could keep rehearsing forever because I know that once we open, closing night will be just a blink of an eye away. Closing a stunning show with a wonderfully talented team, leaving you with only photographs and memories, is simultaneously one of the best and one of the toughest feelings in the world. I will never forget my experiences with this phenomenal team.

An update:
Since writing this on Sunday, we have had a rehearsal on Monday and a quite productive lighting hang/focus day on Tuesday. I'm looking forward to tonight's rehearsal, and I'm especially excited for the sitzprobe on Sunday.

Grey is my new favourite colour!!

So yesterday we moved into the theatre, saw the set in its proper place, saw our costumes (which were gorgeous) and everything is in shades of grey.   Loved all of it!!   Our run last was typically not the best it could be after a very long and tiring day but I think it went pretty well considering the different space, the brain deadness of the cast (me especially with this stupid head cold)!!  I'm pretty excited and can't wait to run this thing on the actual stage on Wednesday.  I found it funny that when people get tired they default to Calling me Janet.  

The Confusing Time

The last few weeks before a show opens can be a really odd, exciting, and disconcerting time.

It's a time of firsts – many of which can be really exciting. We've begun seeing some of the beautiful costume pieces as they arrive for initial fittings. Last weekend, we had our first orchestral rehearsal, and it was really inspiring to hear the rich textures that orchestrator Jonathan Tunick has brought to the material. We're deep into meetings with sound and lighting designers, discussing the many new ideas that they are bringing into our collaborative process. New prop pieces are being completed almost daily, each with their own special charms. We've run the full show completely for the first time, and cast members have had the opportunity to marvel at the incredible things that their colleagues have accomplished. We're finally beginning to experiment with putting dead bodies through the trap door – a must for this show.

This can also be a challenging time for a director (particularly one who has also undertaken the role of music director). Every little aspect of the production requires your attention, and you find your focus being split between scheduling, seeing and approving the creations of the designers, and pondering the challenges of getting the show into the theatre and open with the time remaining. You're exhausted, and you feel pulled in multiple directions – just when you want to devote your full energy to helping the cast craft their best possible performances.

Even more challenging, this is the time when all of your own self-doubts begin to emerge. Have I done justice to this beautiful piece? Will everything work as I've envisioned? Is my sense of storytelling really as clear as I thought? You have been looking at your own work for several months now, and it feels like you've lost the ability to see it. This is combined with the time when all of the tiniest problems (and larger ones too) begin to rear their heads, and people keep bringing you more challenges and more things to question. Everyone involved has already seen the work too, so any of the small compliments that you might have heard at the beginning of the process have gone by the wayside long ago, so all you get are questions and the self-doubt.

It's a good thing that all of this means that opening night is getting closer. It's also a good thing that I am continuing to enjoy the process. (And that I have vodka... Vodka is a good thing, too...)

More Praises - Provided Silently...

Back in this blog entry, choreographer/assistant director (and all-round fabulous) Dot Routledge wrote about how "talented, eager, and focused" our cast is. I will now add my voice (such as it is today) to hers.

On Wednesday night, I was staging one of the really finicky sections of Act 2. Only four people sing in this sequence, but 17 are involved in the staging of it – entering at different times, crossing the stage in relationships with different groups of people, and being sought, confronted, prodded, or killed by other characters. It was a complex scene to stage, and it required a great deal of patience, particularly since many of those 17 people made only brief appearances onstage during the rehearsal time.

Adding to the joy of staging an already complex scene, I became the next victim of whatever infliction is being passed around right now, and I arrived at rehearsal on Wednesday with a bad cold and minimal voice. I could speak at the beginning of the evening (albeit in a low, sexy, Kathleen Turner kind of range), and I could demonstrate a couple of sung pitches, but those abilities wore off as the evening progressed.

The cast was hard-working and dedicated as always, and they stayed focused enough that I never had to work hard to be heard. By the end of rehearsals, the scenes had a shape, and the performers were experimenting with different nuances. All in all, a success!

Two days later, my voice is getting stronger again, and I'm just hoping that I haven't passed on the illness to any of the people who worked so hard on Wednesday to help me out...

Size Matters...

What an unusual experience this week has been.

On December 9, we had our last full cast rehearsal before our Act 1 stumble-through, during which we staged the St. Dunstan's Marketplace scene and did some review of the opening of the show. I then had three rehearsals (December 10, 12, and 16) for which no more than five actors were called at any time, and it was only two people for very large periods of time.

It's hard work rehearsing a large cast show. It doesn't really matter how focused or hard-working any cast is – and this cast is really focused and hard-working – running a large rehearsal is very hard work, and you always feel like you spend more time doing traffic control than you spend directing, so I was really looking forward to doing the three smaller rehearsals. Those rehearsals were really fun for me. We got to assemble some very challenging musical moments. We got to polish scenes that we had already staged, playing with different levels and different intentions and exploring the power dynamics between various characters. After staging one scene, we actually had time to do table work, reading the text to discover the rhythm of the scene, before putting it back on its feet. Those moments are the real joy of the work for me – they are the reason that I will always prefer rehearsing over simply performing a piece.

Given my enjoyment of the smaller rehearsals, it was surprising to me, on Monday night's stumble-through, how excited I was to see the entire cast back in the rehearsal room – it made me feel all "warm and fuzzy." I think that people who work in theatre are (absolutely must be) inherently collaborative, and it was a real joy to share our work with the rest of the company, to see how the work of people had developed during their week off, and just to spend time again with people who are working so hard on the same project as me.

This is a very special cast, and I am very happy to share this rehearsal period with all of them.

Act the Second

Having completed the Act I stumble-through (which had significantly fewer stumbles than some shows I've been in) I have to say that the show is looking really good. There were several moments that sent shivers down my spine. The moment that hit me the most was in Poor Thing; the masqueraders were dancing around Turpin and Johanna and it was really eerie watching the two through the crowd.

I'm really looking forward to starting Act II tonight, as that's where the story gets even meatier (I had to, I'm sorry!). I can't wait to see what we bring to the table for the second act.

--
Matthew Hyslop

Art imitates life imitates art.

Belly Laughs

Tongiht was the first stumble through of act one of Sweeney, and overall, I think it went very well. What I loved the most was the humour that is in this show. Sweeney has a reputation of being on the darker side, and it does have some tremendously powerful moments. But these are balanced, or perhaps accented, by moment of sheer belly-laugh-inducing humour.

Tonight, my five biggest laughs came from five small moments:

1) Perelli's high note in the blackmail scene.
2) Perelli's hand doing its best "thing" impression.
3) Toby holding out a star chart for consideration by the crowds of the barber competition.
4) Mrs. Lovett's line, "That's all very well, but what are we going to do about the Italian" just after the emotional high of Sweeney's Epiphany.
5) Andrew (our dear Sweeney) counting his entrance timing out loud during "A Little Priest" which, I will say, both he and our Laurie (our Lovett) got through, off book, having just learned the scene approximately 27 hours earlier.

Yes, this vengence play is bloody. But it also has moments that are bloody funny! Thank you, everyone, for making me laugh tonight!