Tag Archives: title of show

Arcadia With Chekhov: The Musical

27 Oct

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It’s one of those super crazy theatre weeks where you play three different people across three days, then see if it pans out thru the weekend.

…I mean, who am I joking, of course I was gonna audition for Arcadia after all…who the hell wouldn’t if they could?

…So after a weekend of bouncing back and forth on the fence, I gave in, did some character brush-up and review, launching me into auds last night. Tonight, I travel north for our first table read n’ formal chat on the devised Chekhov piece for this year’s Seattle Fringe, and tomorrow: I launch back into [title of show]…unless it comes up cancelled due to lack of audience…in which case I double back south for Arcadia callbacks…leading hopefully (one must always be hopeful) to casting.

…If that’s a go, I’ll prob’ly be tag-teaming ‘tween it and [tos] come Saturday.

In or out, Wednesday performance or not, that’s still a three-atre full week…which is pretty super cool, and prob’ly the funnest thing to happen to me since downloading customer Bee Cha’s contract on Monday and saying it out loud for the first time.

(…Which, no doubt, isn’t intended to be funny…it’s prob’y even a family name…leading to a totally respected lineage of former Bee Chas…with Bee Chas to come…but I get precious few happy moments in this job, so gimme a damn break.)

…Anyway…what was I talking about?

Oh yeah: Cecil is super sick, so I did a drive-n-drop of supplies on her doorstep last night, full of all the things you use for colds, but minus the alcohol. She’s sitting at home now, after going to the Doc, and is itching to be doing all the things She’s “supposed” to be doing, and would be, had She not the plague. Being one of those people who hates to get beat (even by tiny bugs floating in her spit), I’ll bet She’s reading this right now…while pouting, with total lack of else to do.

…So I’ll write her a tiny terrible poem, in lieu of a “get well soon” card.

…And here it is:

O Cecil of sickness, so full of goo,
Wisht you felt less awful and sadishly blue.

The sun, it is shining, and wants you to play,
But you’d shrivel up in it, and blow all away.

Cuz your head-parts and face-parts and parts you can’t see,
Are cloaked by invisible bugs and gross things.

So you’re too busy hacking and snorting out goop
To even think twice,’bout that paper that’s due.

Which is good, cuz your eyes are all bloodshot and ouchy,
It’s best to just “jammy,” all snug on your couchy.

So this time next week, you’ll feel gooder than good,
And go back to the super “Cecil” you should.


Gwen

~D

…And Then Some Vampires Charlie-Angel’d Me

29 Sep

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This show? Is fucking ridiculous.

…Seriously. How I am getting paid to do this is like one of those jobs people get that we’d all kill for. Like house sitting in the Hamptons, or travel writing, or video game testing, or secret shopping, or flavor-tasting Ben & Jerry ice cream. All these jobs pay you to do them…like its some sort of weird convergence Bermuda-Triangle-mix-up of stuff you’d do for free anyway, (or even pay someone else to let you do)…but somehow real-life hasn’t caught up, yet.

…I’d fear for the karmic “audit” to come, if it weren’t so goddamn difficult to do this show. But be that as it may…we are talkin’ some serious performance bang-for-your-buck.

….With the final completion of staging this weekend, not only do I getta fly around on office rolley chairs, and mime-shine flashlights up my butt, we’ve also got chip-eating product-placement, girl-on-girl action, a slideshow with monkeys driving speedboats, a conversation about being rice krispy treats, gollem and hobbits, flash-dancing, half naked actors, air guitars, multiple dream sequences, The Supremes, Vogue fashion pic spreads, and vampires Charlie’s-Angeling me.

In a one-act.

…That’s right, all that and so very much more, in a buck thirty.

…Seem a little mind blowing? Now add singing and dancing. Yeah, that face you just made? I am living it.

…Meanwhile, we are bonding through this wacky shift of insanity, into a strange little family who feel uber safe trying every single kind of physical, and verbal experimentation we can possibly come up with. Apparently, this makes us hilarious and so “fucking adorable” that our queen of choreography would like to “squeeze us to death.”

In a good way.

…I think.

…And with that, our sister-in-Rep show takes the lead next week for their opening, as we keep plugging away on our end, trying to corral all the duck-pigs into the play pen. Which is not now, (nor ever will be), easy.

It’s not that kinda show.

C-learly…

~D

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