Wednesday, April 12, 2006
continuously blowing the pop stand.
i'm trying to think of something short to say in the ten minutes i'll remain at this desk.
tech? it's gross. how anyone can be so unaware that their cast thinks they are a total cornflake is beyond me. or maybe she knows and doesn't care, which is a level of nonchalance i could never muster. this piece opens tomorrow. i got my costume last night. we've never done a run. it's a site specific installation with five trillion cues.
and it's my first show under the equity banner, and i was led to believe there would be mandatory breaks. and certain small courtesies. and a small amount of beaurocratic protocol. there are none of these things. the showcase code has gone out the window and flown uptown to 49th and 7th to get a hotdog and watch the giant cup of noodles sign give off steam. i am the only one who cares. i am heart-broken. not only do i love rules, i love the respectful gesture of rules being followed even when they don't seem hugely important. i also love getting to pee and/or go get some caramel corn every couple of hours. i am constantly talking myself down from calling the union police because: no one likes a tattler. and i like being liked.
so, anyway. back to the salt mines. i haven't said much about this piece because it was sort of a non-event for a while, before tech ate my life and i realized exactly how batshit this piece of theatre has turned. so far, the only things making it worth sticking around for are a connection to a good director, wearing my tutu in public, and getting to use an MF bullhorn.
tech? it's gross. how anyone can be so unaware that their cast thinks they are a total cornflake is beyond me. or maybe she knows and doesn't care, which is a level of nonchalance i could never muster. this piece opens tomorrow. i got my costume last night. we've never done a run. it's a site specific installation with five trillion cues.
and it's my first show under the equity banner, and i was led to believe there would be mandatory breaks. and certain small courtesies. and a small amount of beaurocratic protocol. there are none of these things. the showcase code has gone out the window and flown uptown to 49th and 7th to get a hotdog and watch the giant cup of noodles sign give off steam. i am the only one who cares. i am heart-broken. not only do i love rules, i love the respectful gesture of rules being followed even when they don't seem hugely important. i also love getting to pee and/or go get some caramel corn every couple of hours. i am constantly talking myself down from calling the union police because: no one likes a tattler. and i like being liked.
so, anyway. back to the salt mines. i haven't said much about this piece because it was sort of a non-event for a while, before tech ate my life and i realized exactly how batshit this piece of theatre has turned. so far, the only things making it worth sticking around for are a connection to a good director, wearing my tutu in public, and getting to use an MF bullhorn.
