Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Show 8 and 9

The set was bouncing uncertainly beneath me.

That is a really really bad sign. I hadn't noticed it during Act I, but during the second act, I spend the two biggest dance numbers--the Cachucha and the Finale--on the top of the stairs towards stage right in a particular area that had become increasingly less sturdy. The plywood--ahem, I mean marble--had developed a bit of a spring. Right where I twirled, jumped and danced.

It didn't break, but with the hot lights beating down, with the music whirling and skirts flying and a flurry of movement surrounding me, I was struggling to keep a cheerful face. Hard to do when you think you may crash at any moment.

The area had extra support added for the next night, the nineth show. Backstage, we had the most serious conversation that the greenroom has ever seen--a debate on capital punishment--which was ridiculous because we're actors and what the hell do we know.

Onstage, one of the girls had trouble tying her skirt during the overture. It was too loose and kept sliding down, so as she twirled during a dance, she ripped it off and flung it aside. So now she's a stripper. See how that works?