Rehearsal: An Actor's Blog, Second Day of Tech

From actor Marya Sea Kaminski, playing Rachel in My Name is Rachel Corrie.

A ten out of twelve tech today for MY NAME IS RACHEL CORRIE. That means we're all there from noon to midnight, with a big, strange two hour dinner break. Today was tougher than Sunday, the second day of school is never as romantic as the first. We are fastening the pieces into the puzzle, and then smoothing out the edges. Working transitions. Rather than listening to the sound, and seeing the lights, and hearing the words, it feels like we're experiencing the play. As a whole. As a sum greater than its parts. It is an exciting, exhausting time.

I got a little wobbly towards the end of the night. Stepped back from the edge of the raked stage after fleeting visions of tumbling into the first row. When I opened IN DISDRESS NOW: REDUX at Washington Ensemble Theatre in January, I slipped on an icy bit of sidewalk on the way home from the opening and broke my wrist. I feel a little less indestructible than I did last December. I'm going to try not to break, or even deeply bruise anything during the run of this show...

The exhaustion is welcome, though. It's instructive. Robyn Hunt, one of my incredible mentors and an unbelievable actor, always spoke of exhaustion with admiration. In the midst of our Suzuki training, it was only when we started to get tired that the work began. When you don't have the energy to put anything on top of your performance, or the will to add 'flare' or 'meaning' to a moment, is the time when the honest moment can actually emerge. That is where the art lives, Robyn would imply, on the other side of that threshold. It was good to teeter there tonight.

I'm excited to get an audience. And, admittedly, scared. While the work is definitely starting to settle into my bones, ninety minutes of lines is still alot to hold inside my head. Feels a bit like a house of cards right now, and the audience is going to bring another whole deck to the table. That's when the play is going to breathe, though. When I will find its rhythm, discover where the play wants to rest and where the text wants to run. I suspect the first couple of previews are going to be baptisms by fire. A long journey finally coming, crashing home.

What's in a Name?

From Joanna Horowitz, Communications Department

I meant to write this post on Tuesday, but this week has quickly slipped between my fingers as we amp up for opening night of Fire on the Mountain (in previews now, officially open on Wednesday). I finally took our lobby display for the show to print this afternoon, and now the office is quiet, the weekend's almost here. If someone could get me a pina colada, I'll be ready to blog. Ok, apparently our cabana boy has the day off, so it'll have to be a less tropical blog. Which is fine, considering I'm going to jump right into talking about My Name is Rachel Corrie.

We had the meet and greet for the show on Tuesday, and beforehand I got the amazing opportunity to sit in on the first read-through. If you haven't heard, Washington Ensemble Theatre superstar Marya Sea Kaminski will be playing Rachel. If her first reading was any indication, she is going to be fantastic. She seems really connected to the role and already is capturing the passionate spirit of Rachel. I actually cried at one point in the show. That’s impressive for me because I'm not a crier at all (unless it’s It’s a Wonderful Life, which gets me every time). I was just right there with Marya the whole time.

I felt the same way watching her perform in her one-woman show In DisDress Now: Redux, which I saw at W.E.T. last month. The whole time I felt like we were having an intimate conversation. Of course, this was kind of awkward when I thought I knew Marya and were best friends already and went to talk to her and realized, no, I’ve never actually met her. She's very gracious and funny, though, and I am really excited to report that she's going to be blogging right here about her experience rehearsing My Name is Rachel Corrie.

I know this is a controversial play, but seeing the read-through really affirmed to me that this is a story about someone just looking for a way to make a difference. Ultimately, and I know some people will disagree with me, the route she took to try to make that difference doesn’t matter. What matters is that she was passionate about art and about eliciting social change to lessen suffering. She was just about my age when she died in 2003, and though her words can sounds young and maybe a little idealistic, I find the piece inspiring simply because she wanted to make the world a better place--as corny as that sounds-- and tried to do it. I would like to think I haven't reached a place of cynicism or jadedness in my life and might still be able to make a difference too. I suppose that’s one of the reasons I work in theater.

To completely switch gears, we're hearing nothing but raves about Fire on the Mountain, and if you want to see it, you should get tickets now because it's going to be packed. I think the show is so appealing because it's really your most basic story of survival and hope against all odds. Plus with great music. And presumably a delicious specialty cocktail for you to enjoy in the lobby. But first I need to go dream one up. Stay tuned for something bourbon-y.

Can you mid-size that?

From Joanna Horowitz, Communications Department

So, I've been letting Paul do most of the talking (typing?) about The Lady from Dubuque process, and maybe you've been thinking, "Where's Joanna? I can barely live without her!" (well, a girl can dream). Here I am.

First off, John Logenbaugh had an article in last week's Seattle Weekly about whether or not Seattle is really a theatre town. You can read it here. I've been thinking a lot about what John says, essentially that Seattle is seeing a severe deficit in mid-sized theaters and that's hurting us. Now that the Empty Space is closed, there's a sizable gap between fringe theaters (and there are lots and many of really high quality) and the "big houses" like us at the Rep. This clearly affects those of us working in theatre--it means less places to work that can afford to pay actors, directors, etc.

The question I have is, how does the lack of mid-sized theaters impact us as audience members. Will the gap change what we see on stage? I don't feel completely confident in answering these questions, being relatively new to the Seattle theater scene and to the Rep. But my very knowledgeable boss Cynthia Fuhrman may have some answers.

According to Cynthia, who also just had this same conversation with Rep Casting Director Jerry Manning, widening the gap between fringe and large theaters will mean Seattle will be less likely to retain the young actors who move here or stay here after school. They will act in fringe theaters like WET and Theater Schmeater, but most won't be able to make the leap to ACT, INTIMAN or the Rep without the stepping stone of a theater like Empty Space. That means eventually you'll see fewer local actors on the big stages.

It also means you won't have the opportunity to see an actor like Lori Larsen in a fantastic production like Frozen in an intimate 120-seat venue. Someone like Lori can't really perform with a fringe theater because of Equity contracts and the fact that most fringe companies can't afford to pay. So, with mid-sized theaters dwindling, your opportunity to experience professional quality theater with really great veterens in an intimate setting also dwindles.

Finally, it's a pretty common belief, said Cynthia, that the more theater that is available, the more people to see it. It's more accessible (if there's theater in your neighborhood, you're more likely to go see it), and you have broader options to match up with your taste. And once you see enough that you connect with, the more you get in the habit of going (like heroin, Cynthia said, but I think she was joking).

So what can we do to try to slow and reverse this trend? Well, for one, don't stop going to theater. All kinds of theater. We say now in hindsight, "Wow, I wish I would have gone to the Empty Space more." So, go to the mid-sized theatres in Seattle: Book-It, Seattle Shakespeare Company, etc. And go to the smaller fringe theatres, especially the ones that you think have a potential to grow: maybe WET, Theater Schmeater, Seattle Public, Balagan. With our support, they may be the next generation of mid-size theatres.

Ok, off the soapbox for the day.