Tech began yesterday.
9am call in a basement theatre somewhere between the Lower East Side and the East Village. An A train from 181 to 14, the L from 8th Ave to 1st Ave. An hourlong commute.
I like tech. The pressure is off me– it’s a time for the designers to work all of their stuff out. It’s also fun to see everything finally coming together. Those fake and horribly offensive AK-47s they had simulated in rehearsal with wooden sticks are now real, and shoot idiotically wonderful laser-light with a half-hearted "pew pew." That transition I’d always done in silence, with few props and no timing, now is punctuated with sound, and concludes with a solo quick change in the back hallway. You don’t realize how many props you have in this kind of comedic clown-show until you enter from the front after your one long-ish break from the stage to discover the floor piled high with newspapers, Doritos, a spilled first aid kit, and many bottles of water.
Last night, after getting home at the incredibly kind hour of 6pm (usually techs are 10/12s, which means you work for 10 hours out of 12 scheduled hours– the other 2 hours are for Equity-required breaks, including an hour for lunch). I did this and that, ate dinner, puttered about, watched Orange is the New Black, then, just as A walked in the door from his show, launched into full meltdown. Why? I couldn’t find my new boxes of contacts.
I cried. I yelled. I stomped and threw shit around. a stayed calm and tried to help, his voice soft and meek in a way that irritates me in the best of times. I am a monster, he is a saint.
Eventually, I cooled off,
Two tech runs today. I showed up at the theatre at 9:45am, Americano from The Bean in hand. Now costumes aren’t questions, makeup slides on. We’re ready to go for a run by 10:30. We break for lunch at 1:40, and I head across the street to Hummus Place with R, P, and SP. We’re back in the space by 2:40 to put back on our costumes (still damp, now cold and hanging heavy). Another time through, then notes, and I stumble out into the heat towards the L train.
I can’t wait to do this play.
I can sit around and talk about the struggle of my "career," about how it’s not what I "wanted," how it’s possibly a "step back," but when I walk onstage, when the moments flow smoothly, one into the nest, everything feels RIGHT. I am 100% myself, 100% present. It’s the greatest thing on earth.
I wish I felt more like writing, but this tab has been open for days, and I can’t seem to finish it.
More, I suppose, as things get closer. We open Thursday.
I can’t wait.
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