I love big productions. I love walking into a theatre and seeing a set that makes my draw drop. I love when a special effect is rigged that shocks you, especially when it's a piece that you know intimately. I love when an image is so strong that it stays with you long after the show is over.
This is what I shared with Mark Strong when I met him after his performance in View From The Bridge.
In New York, I would always wait at the stage door to get autographs and pictures of celebrities on Broadway. This is the first time I did it in England. I don't know why! The "celebrity" factor seems very different over here. People love them, but don't swarm them. They seem to respect them as people and give them their space. But after this show, I was just left with goosebumps. On a whim, Matt and I went to the stage door.
As I imagined, there weren't many people waiting. Because of that, he got to take his time with all of us who stuck it out. While signing my ticket, he asked what we thought of the show, and we started to discussing the benefits of simply presenting yourself on the stage with the words that the playwright has given you. The story becomes so much stronger.
I loved the play. I went in knowing nothing, waiting to be surprised and enthralled. It's Arthur Miller! I had no doubts I would love the story... and I did. More than that, I loved Mark Strong. It's not because he's famous; I would have noticed him if I had never seen him before. Eddie is a very flawed character, yet I wanted him to get what he wanted.
I'm not sure how it reads in the script, but in this production, Eddie was very much in love with Catherine. Even kissed her at one point. And as wrong as it was to have her Uncle lust after her, I wanted, in a really perverse way, for him to get what I wanted. How crazy is that! But he was played as such a sincere, caring person that I wanted him to succeed.
All of the acting was really strong, actually. Except for Catherine. I feel like you need to love that girl, which makes Eddie even more sympathetic. This girl was quite harsh though. In-eloquent and hard. I didn't know why Eddie loved her. She would jump in his arms at the beginning of the play, wrapping her legs around him and burying herself in his chest. I loved that vulnerability, but it had to be carried out throughout. Because there was nothing but the actors and the story onstage, I wanted her to carry vulnerability more strongly.
A small section of the stage was squared off, encased by very low glass walls that could be seen through. Some of the audience was sitting onstage so that they were surrounded. No lighting effects. No props, even. And just one special effect... as Eddie and Marco go in for the the fight that kills Eddie, they're surrounded by the others around them and the group becomes entangled. Then they stop. Suddenly, is starts raining blood on them.
It was haunting.
I few weeks ago, I saw a production by the Polish theatre company Song of the Goat. They're Grotowski based, and I thought a physical theatre company. One of my tutors, Marcin Rudy, was part of the company a while back. The way he taught us to express through our bodies, and also from what I know of Grotowski, I expected impressive, moving an almost a dance performance.
Song of Lear was just song. They arranged their chairs in a semi circle facing the audience, and there were two musicians just to the side. The songs were inspired by Tibetan laments. Through these songs, they began to tell the story of King Lear. They called each piece "a painting." As they continued, they veered from the story itself and began to explore it's themes and how the story inspired them.
It was just story telling. Sharing.
There was a piece in which on of the woman pulled her chair forward to sit in the center. As she sang, she began to cry. She moved herself so much, and I could see it. The agony she felt wringing inside. Another moment had another woman in the center, singing a war cry, and the others were around her using their chairs as war drums. they threw themselves into it, she especially. There was just so much strength, I can't describe it truthfully. As I'm trying to find the words, my body is tensing at the memory, and all I want to do is stomp and throw my body as she did.
I had nothing to watch but them. And they had nothing to focus on-- no props to remember and manage, no marks to hit-- so everything could be put into falling into their performance, and the story.
When we remount Tuesdays and Sundays, we'll simply have no money for the kinds of props that we had. Even costumes, we're thinking of just using blacks. It's intimidating, to think that the only thing holding the play together will be Tom and I. All eyes on us. Here's to the challenge. I've seen how magical it can be, and I only hope I can accomplish the same.
This is what I shared with Mark Strong when I met him after his performance in View From The Bridge.
In New York, I would always wait at the stage door to get autographs and pictures of celebrities on Broadway. This is the first time I did it in England. I don't know why! The "celebrity" factor seems very different over here. People love them, but don't swarm them. They seem to respect them as people and give them their space. But after this show, I was just left with goosebumps. On a whim, Matt and I went to the stage door.
As I imagined, there weren't many people waiting. Because of that, he got to take his time with all of us who stuck it out. While signing my ticket, he asked what we thought of the show, and we started to discussing the benefits of simply presenting yourself on the stage with the words that the playwright has given you. The story becomes so much stronger.
I loved the play. I went in knowing nothing, waiting to be surprised and enthralled. It's Arthur Miller! I had no doubts I would love the story... and I did. More than that, I loved Mark Strong. It's not because he's famous; I would have noticed him if I had never seen him before. Eddie is a very flawed character, yet I wanted him to get what he wanted.
I'm not sure how it reads in the script, but in this production, Eddie was very much in love with Catherine. Even kissed her at one point. And as wrong as it was to have her Uncle lust after her, I wanted, in a really perverse way, for him to get what I wanted. How crazy is that! But he was played as such a sincere, caring person that I wanted him to succeed.
All of the acting was really strong, actually. Except for Catherine. I feel like you need to love that girl, which makes Eddie even more sympathetic. This girl was quite harsh though. In-eloquent and hard. I didn't know why Eddie loved her. She would jump in his arms at the beginning of the play, wrapping her legs around him and burying herself in his chest. I loved that vulnerability, but it had to be carried out throughout. Because there was nothing but the actors and the story onstage, I wanted her to carry vulnerability more strongly.
A small section of the stage was squared off, encased by very low glass walls that could be seen through. Some of the audience was sitting onstage so that they were surrounded. No lighting effects. No props, even. And just one special effect... as Eddie and Marco go in for the the fight that kills Eddie, they're surrounded by the others around them and the group becomes entangled. Then they stop. Suddenly, is starts raining blood on them.
It was haunting.
I few weeks ago, I saw a production by the Polish theatre company Song of the Goat. They're Grotowski based, and I thought a physical theatre company. One of my tutors, Marcin Rudy, was part of the company a while back. The way he taught us to express through our bodies, and also from what I know of Grotowski, I expected impressive, moving an almost a dance performance.
Song of Lear was just song. They arranged their chairs in a semi circle facing the audience, and there were two musicians just to the side. The songs were inspired by Tibetan laments. Through these songs, they began to tell the story of King Lear. They called each piece "a painting." As they continued, they veered from the story itself and began to explore it's themes and how the story inspired them.
It was just story telling. Sharing.
There was a piece in which on of the woman pulled her chair forward to sit in the center. As she sang, she began to cry. She moved herself so much, and I could see it. The agony she felt wringing inside. Another moment had another woman in the center, singing a war cry, and the others were around her using their chairs as war drums. they threw themselves into it, she especially. There was just so much strength, I can't describe it truthfully. As I'm trying to find the words, my body is tensing at the memory, and all I want to do is stomp and throw my body as she did.
I had nothing to watch but them. And they had nothing to focus on-- no props to remember and manage, no marks to hit-- so everything could be put into falling into their performance, and the story.
When we remount Tuesdays and Sundays, we'll simply have no money for the kinds of props that we had. Even costumes, we're thinking of just using blacks. It's intimidating, to think that the only thing holding the play together will be Tom and I. All eyes on us. Here's to the challenge. I've seen how magical it can be, and I only hope I can accomplish the same.