Well, dear readers, I had a rather lovelier than lovely birthday yesterday. So many beautiful wishes on this here site, and an overwhelming number on Facebook. I’ve often said that despite my loathing of certain aspects of Facebook, the one thing it got completely right was birthdays. I began my birthday waking up way too early at seven. I got up, turned on the heat, and went back to bed, finally falling asleep around eight. Next thing I knew it was ten-thirty. I got up, answered e-mails and did my morning ablutions. Around eleven-fifteen, the garage door people arrived and figured that the problem once again was the sensors – they work perfectly but are sensor sensitive to any little cobweb or leaf and apparently that’s what happened. I’ll keep my eye on the sensors now, making sure they’re free of dust and debris, not necessarily in that order.
Then I relaxed until it was time to mosey on over to the theater for our matinee. The twenty-five minute drive took twenty-five minutes, so that was very pleasant. I was told yesterday that we were sold out for today, but that turned out not to be the case – we had a half a house instead, which is a shame since I had people who wanted to come. Our very own dear reader Jeanne came with her hairdresser pal. But, if you have to have half a house on a Sunday matinee you couldn’t have asked for a better audience. They were an older crowd, but boy were they vocal and full of vim and vigor, applause-wise. It was really fun, and the cast were all on their game and it was a really good show all the way around. Dear reader Jeanne gave me some yummilicious-looking dark chocolate things from Trader Joe’s.
One aspect of our little musical revue I haven’t really discussed much is that we do our show completely unplugged. In the last five years, I’ve gone to theaters that had forty to ninety-nine seats to see musicals, only to find the entire cast of whatever show it was all miked. It’s so weird and it’s really off-putting in spaces like that, although I’m guilty of having done it at the Hudson Theater for What If. I wish I hadn’t, but for something that was completely reliant on the comedy we made the decision to amplify, albeit very subtly. But early on with Pure Imagination, we decided there would be no amplification at all, not even an opera mic. And what a pleasure it is to hear real voices unplugged – just voice and piano – what a treat. The actors all project very well and in this forty seat theater it works perfectly. When we move in January to their ninety-nine seat theater (that’s the plan right now anyway), we’ll see how it feels and if I think it needs some support it will just be a couple of opera mics hung above the playing area, which is exactly what we did at LACC for Lost and Unsung. The concern is always that audiences have become so accustomed to amplification that when there is none they really have to adjust, and sometimes that’s difficult. But our audiences have been liking our vibe and I do, too.
After the show, Sami, her mom and I went to Genghis Cohen, where they treated me to a marvelously marvelous meal consisting of orange chicken (extra crispy), Kung Pao chicken, green beans, Crackerjack shrimp and white and brown rice. It was, as always, perfection, and we all had a lot of fun yakking away. I’m so proud of Sami in this show – it was a very difficult journey for her because I had certain goals for her track in the show and I would not rest until she achieved them. She’s making that sometimes difficult transition from child actor to teen actor and she’s worked her butt off to do the performance I wanted, and she’s really come through with flying colors. I listen to the comments after the show, and the audience just really adores her, because in this show she’s the embodiment of youth that is so prevalent in the work of Newley and Bricusse. And her one ballad in the show, a put-together of Once Upon a Bedtime and This Dream is quite touching and beautiful. That was the one we worked hardest on, even outside of our rehearsals. She has a unique presence and energy and focusing it was hard yet so rewarding and I could not be happier with the result.
After dinner, I moseyed on over to the Haverty Holiday Partay, which was still going full swing. I chatted with some folks I knew, and then I was spirited away to the Coral Café by a nice family, two twin twelve-year-olds and their nice mum and dad, to the Coral Café for a birthday piece of chocolate cream pie. We, too, all had a lot of fun. Then I came home and was just too elated and zonked at the same time to even think about watching a motion picture or doing anything but sitting at the computer like so much fish.
Today, I shall do errands and whatnot, pay some obscenely large Kritzerland bills, eat, hopefully pick up some packages, get organized with the benefit goings on, and then I’ll relax and watch something or other, maybe one of the DGA screeners that’s sitting on the couch like so much fish.
Tomorrow is more of the same, and tomorrow night we have a brief put-in rehearsal for Jane Noseworthy’s cover, who’s doing all the performances this coming week – she’s very talented and her name is Christanna Rowader. Then it’s meetings and meals and benefit stuff, then I’ll definitely see Christanna’s first performance, probably will skip Friday, then see Saturday’s performance and probably skip Sunday.
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must, for example, do errands and whatnot, get organized, pay bills, eat, hopefully pick up some packages, and relax. Today’s topic of discussion: What do you think of all this amplification in today’s theater – not only musicals but straight plays, too. I saw many straight plays at the Huntington Hartford theater and other theaters of that size, including Broadway, and I’d never seen a straight play amplified other than maybe some foot mics, until a few years ago. In some straight plays they even have mics ON the performers. Do no actors train to project anymore? Let’s have loads of lovely postings, shall we, whilst I hit the road to dreamland, where I shall dream unplugged.