05 September 2007
It is now 13 days until opening of Accidental Death. It has been a long time since I've been in this position, sweating these particular bullets. The excitement and nervousness that comes from knowing that this piece of theatre will be seen by a live audience in a very short time. Time that seems shorter than the work requires.
I've missed performing live scripted theatre. I had forgotten what it's like. I missed this time, this part of the rehearsal process as much as the performances itself. It is the time when scripts come out of hands, costume pieces begin to come together, and the set comes to resemble its ultimate shape. As the external trappings begin to solidify, the action on stage hangs in the ether. Now is the time when the play looks it's absolute shittiest. Lines get forgotten and action grinds to a halt; characters seem shaky and actors confused; slow, wince-worthy sections of the play have the director hanging his head in frustration. We are indeed on the brink.
Fortunately it is not without its bright spots, and as Opening Night draws closer the gaping black holes of shittiness will recede and the pace will pick up, details given the attention they deserve and, if all goes according to plan, by 18 September this will be an amateur theatre Tour de Force.