I'm not dead
Hello weblog readers,
you may have noticed that my fellow bloggers have been busily updating their entries while mine have been conspicuous by their absence.
While Katherine and Julia are wonderfully prepared and organised, I have been sweating over my dissertation deadline. Only one part and 2000 or so words to go now, which judging from the way I am rambling on here shouldn't be hard.
So, what has been happening on planet Bob then? I suppose the first thing was the Linbury. We had a wonderfully early start, but then ended up waiting around for ages blinking in the artificial light of the underground studio, then went for an explore round the opera house. Needless to say, it is an amazing place with facilities our wee company could only dream about. The floors are sprung, the studios are huge and the whole ballet part of the house is heated to higher than normal temperatures so that the dancers don't cool down too much and get injured. Wow.
We had been very well rehearsed for what is our gala performance, but I was in a new place in Giselle and to be honest, by the end of rehearsals I was absolutely exhausted. I began to wonder (doing it a lot now) how I'd make it through the show. Fortunately apple juice and energy bars took me through as well as copious amounts of adrenaline.
The final verdict seems to have been that we did a decent job at it and personally Cinderella went well, supposedly the best it's been so far (until Grantham that is; haha) and birds was hilarious -things went wrong, but I had fun.
At the end of the show we packed all of our stuff onto the van and just as the final part was loaded on a cry of 'Where are the stress pigs?' went up. After a moment of confusion I remembered that they were safely penned at my place and rushed back to the dressing room to grab them. I sprinted back along the long white corridors of the opera house, huge metal support struts and scenery caged behind black mesh rushing past on my right, but as I opened the door to the scenery dock, the door to the lift slammed shut. I rapped on the dull metal, but the mechanism had ground into life and noone heard (or cared) about the absence of David and Davina. We were lost. The three of us walked with heavy legs and hearts back to the changing room and then left the opera house, quite possibly for the last time.
It's a very strange experience leaving the opera house by the stage door. Felt like a bit of a fake somehow, but I enjoyed it while it lasted and almost fell asleep talking to everyone outside. We got the next day off. It was needed.
What next? I have been receiving coaching from our Director on my graduation solo which has helped immensely. Still not performing it with much distinction, but lets see how it turns out. As MacMillan is probably my favourite choreographer I feel privileged to be doing it, but there's pressure there to be of a good standard when I present it.
The next few shows were harder. The theatre at Kent university (coincidentally the place that my Dad received his higher education) was a bit of a nightmare; like a balloon with 2 wings at the air hole. It made entrances and exits rather difficult, but it was a beautiful day and we did the best we could. That venue was also notable for having possibly the smallest dressing room I have ever been in. Think of a really small toilet, now remove the toilet, now add 6 boys. Nasty thought isn't it. We basically had to take turns, one half putting on their costumes while the other half tried not to get bludgeoned.
Grantham, birthplace of Margaret Thatcher boasted the town sign, was okay. I was in a new place for an injured member of the cast and was rather worried by the idea. I was also in my old place in 'Going South' (no sniggering), but I'm rubbish at it now. There was an exceedingly exciting part of our trip though: there was a Morrisons! No more the tyranny of Sainsbury Local and Tesco Metro. No more London economy with its stupidly expensive chewing gum. Just good, honest food, clothes, electrical equipment, music, films and cookware at rediculous prices; with a voiceover with Sean Bean. What more could you want? Reason number? I'd better get some commission for this.
Last night we were in Chipping Norton and I experienced a 21 hour day. Woke up at 5.30 to get ready for the bus (at 7am) and one safely on, failed horribly to sleep. The theatre was small, but perfectly formed and there was a farmers market in the centre to distract us all.
We had our usual spacing issues and had to mark out the slight recess where the trapdoor sat. Some choreography was altered slightly to allow us not to kill each other and off we went. Due to yet another injury scare, I ended up in 5 pieces and again before the show I wondered how I was going to do it.
You know what? It wasn't so bad. Laughter is better than red bull at waking me up and we had a great audience. My new part in Moving On went very well and after a quick change from Cinderella into Jazz (first time this year) I really went for it on the entrance. I nearly did a backflip and landed on my head. It could have been a disaster, but I recovered and came up giggling, as did the rest of the cast, crew and audience. Beautiful.
Giselle was okay in its new form. There was an unnerving moment before I did the double tour and pirouette where I felt the floor and thought "Uh oh. Trapdoor." I'm still here. I really enjoyed the final piece and although the day was murder, I have some good memories.
Got back at 1.30. Went out for chips. Here endeth the lesson.
Until the next exciting installment, (and we are going to Scotland, so who knows if I'll be able to write down what happens) I will leave you.
Adios,
Robert
Posted by Robert Phillips at May 21, 2006 10:21 PM
