The “Dream” Cast
Five days after Mikado closed, I got lost in a forest trying to find my
audition location.
But I got a part in A Midsummer
Night's Dream! I’m Peaseblossom and Fairy. I think I do fae better than
human. Too much glitter as a child?
Also, did you know that an entire Shakespeare play can be read in one go?
That it does not have to be broken down and spread out over a semester? And
that it can be fun? Someone needs to tell the English departments asap.
Rehearsals
Rehearsals were held at an old camp with a big grassy field
surrounded by cabins. June flew by because I had all of two rehearsals, and
then rehearsals (for me, at least) began in earnest in July. The cast was an
odd mixture of G&S people and former students of the directors. And all
were extremely good-looking. Am I allowed to say that? I’ve never been in such
an attractive cast.
My scenes were mostly with the Fairy Queen and the other
three fairies. We also had two dances—choreography was killer indoors without
A/C—and one song that we created ourselves using a background track and a
shorter version of Shakespeare’s lyrics.
There was a lot of
music in the show. I’m not sure what soundtrack they used, but most was quite
light with a Celtic feel. The fairy entrance music got to the point where we’d
wake up—leap up—just hearing it.
When we were able to, we rehearsed outdoors on the grass. So
freeing! And dirty! But freeing! Fairies do much better with space to play and
frolic and the show became more cohesive as larger chunks were played out at
once.
Unfortunately, working outside meant working with outside
noises. Once during our lullaby, a group of motorcycles drove past. During one
of Helena’s speeches, an airplane flew overhead, a truck drove past, and a
nearby train blasted its horn. She paused for each, and kept going.
We did a photoshoot in costume on the beach for promo
shots—fun but a little awkward as it was one of the first rehearsals and the
fairies didn’t all know each other. One picture was of all five of us—fairies
with Queen—jumping off a log and “flying.” As I learned much, much later, the
other four were going for a floaty
look, whereas I went for a spread-eagle look. Sigh.
We also practiced using “magic dust” for the scenes with
spells. The only characters who got mic’d were Oberon—the Fairy King—Titania and
Puck, and only when they were saying spells. It was a cool effect but glitter
in the eye still sucks. A couple different types were tried out and a couple
different cast mates ended up with glitter permanently embedded in their skin.
During our first full-costume rehearsal, there was a
thunderstorm. Drenching rain, hissing wind, shining lightning, the whole
shebang. Suddenly the magical scenes became so much more magical. And awesome!
…Especially since I had a ride home that night. Most nights,
I took two buses each way, about an hour in transit. This was only bearable
since two—sometimes more!—of us took the same route and there was a Tim Hortons
halfway through.
This was my first real play and my first Shakespeare, so I
was getting nervous. My scene with Puck opened with me dancing and being silly
until she interrupted me. To be honest, dancing and being silly—silently—was my
favourite part of the scene. But the rest of it was still fun. Puck’s miming of
acorn cups always got a laugh and we were plain goofy.
Meanwhile, the lovers scenes were becoming more and more
established. The amount of lines they memorized—and understood—was crazy
intimidating but it made so much more sense with their physicality. There was a
fight scene between Lysander and Demetrius where they bitch slapped and pinched
and punched and then attempted to canoodle with Helena. And all of Helena’s scenes were spectacular.
Girl could recite a grocery list and still have presence.
There was a slight hitch when Demetrius showed up at
rehearsal with half—just half!—of his hair shorn off. Right side of his head
was shaggy. Left side was bald with bangs. This was eventually solved with a
surprisingly realistic comb-over in which everyone breathed a sigh of relief and
the stage managers sent out a stern email about appearances.
A few weeks before opening, the fairies had a make-up
rehearsal in which we all met up at a school and played with glitter while
back-combing our hair. The directors wanted untraditional make-up, more animalistic
than girly. I ended up with a firebird on my nose—gold and brown wings—with
peacock circles on one side, and golden, glittering fake eyelashes.
And did I mention glitter? And more glitter? And—oh look!
More glitter!
Since the society was brand new—Midsummer was their first
show—we didn’t know how ticket sales would go. But within days of tickets being
released online, all five shows sold out completely! Over a thousand tickets!
On the Sunday before opening, we got to rehearse at the
venue for the first time. It was spectacular. The stage was built outdoors on
the edge of the beach, under a great big white tent so that the audience could
look past the actors at the water.
The greenroom was another tent blocked off by potted trees,
with corners curtained off for changing and plastic interlocking flooring with bottles
of glitter hairspray everywhere. The
outside, where the audience members would come in towards the main tent, was
decorated with flags and candles and signs with fancy old-English-style
writing. Considering a week beforehand it had been nothing but a gravel lot,
it was startling pretty, especially during sunset. The only downside to the
venue was, alas, the port-a-pottys.
For that rehearsal--the last normal rehearsal--I came straight from work, which made for
the start of a long week. I was nervous because we were days from opening and I
was still getting the same note from the directors since we’d begun: be louder.
For months, every rehearsal, same note; and it was wearing on me that I couldn’t
seem to improve.
Tech Rehearsal (Monday)
At tech rehearsal, we had bigger problems than projection.
Some of the Rude Mechanicals had taken to playing and experimenting onstage during
their scenes, instead of what the directors had preferred in earlier rehearsals.
This caused some issues since playing made the show longer, and because the
amount of physicality meant that deviating could be dangerous. Also, kinda unprofessional.
…which led to friction between actors which led to tech
rehearsal being stopped entirely. Drama!
Eventually, things were tentatively worked out and rehearsal
resumed amidst considerable tension and gossip. The gossip was typical, but the
tension was new.
Dress Rehearsal
(Tuesday)
At dress rehearsal, relations amongst the cast improved,
while I fretted over shoes and lines. I was wearing soft jazz shoes, that are
really just cloth with elastic overtop. I wore them in Mikado, but here we were
walking outdoors on gravel and it was uncomfortable, sometimes painful.
The costumers couldn’t do anything about my shoes or the
gravel, but I was able to talk directly with one of the directors about
projection. Specifically, my lack of projection and why am I such a failure. She gave me some pointers and
reminded me that I’m up against an ocean.
That night I didn’t feel nervous. My scene went great. It felt great. I projected the crap
outta it, as loud as I could, and at intermission, one of the directors told me
I’d nailed it.
Ready for Opening Night!
Opening Night!
(Wednesday)
We got a standing ovation!
Our first real audience—who all had real sunglasses. Their
gorgeous view of the stage in front of the water was hindered by the full blast
of the sun at sunset, so everyone was given a pair. It worked
fine, but for us on stage, it made them all look like secret agents.
I almost—but didn’t!— slip during one of the dances. The
stage is particularly slippery because it’s dusty and our jazz shoes have
become increasingly less stable as they become smoother with wear. In one
dance, I have to run all the way around the stage, a big circle where I run
behind Stumpy-the-Chair, right at the far edge of the stage.
The stage is six feet high and does not have a railing. Or a
safety net for clumsy fairies.
I did not fall, thankfully, although I did do a wacky arm
movement for balance. Running around the edge will now be considerably slower...
We also experienced the singular experience of Hermia’s
burping. Hermia—a very sweet woman who wears an elaborate blonde wig for each
show—gets nervous before and during shows and it makes her burp. Loudly. It’s
actually quite impressive for such a loud sound to come from such a petite
body.
Second show
(Thursday)
I made the ‘projection team!’ During a pre-show group talk
with the directors, they pointed me out as being one of the loudest in the
cast. Finally!
We did a group warm-up, the fairies ran through our lullaby
harmonies, I ran through my mini-monologue, and Helena, Hermia and Puck
squatted and made very low frog sounds. Everyone has their own warm-up. Don’t
judge.
My costume was easy as I didn’t have any changes during the
show. It was a green bodysuit with “seaweed” all over it (but I am not a frog
and will not respond to ‘Froggy’). The lovers and their entourage all had to
change into formal wear for the last act however, and the rude mechanicals had
to get into their play-within-a-play costumes. The fairies helped by putting
lipstick on a man and helping the lion get his roar on. Always fun.
This show was particularly nerve-wracking as my sister and
our choreographer were coming. But it went well! No major slip-ups and I projected
the hell outta that stage!
Third Show (Friday)
Another sold-out crowd, another standing ovation!
It’s a little weird sitting side by side with my boyfriend
while we both do our make-up. I guess that’s show business, but it’s still
weird. Once when I was half-way through my make-up, with mostly browns on my
face, he turned to me and said, “You look like I beat you.”
We did our group warm-up, which ended with everyone shouting
“came in her eye!” before separating. Immature maybe, but it’s an
actual line in the show.
Not actual lines include a game sometimes played while
everyone did their make-up: replace a word in a line with ‘butthole.’ Also
immature. Also fun. (“Now the hungry butthole roars...” “You juggler! You
canker-blossom! You butthole!”)
The lovers had a bit of a flub during their scene, when a
line was missed and the rhythm stuttered until they got back into it. It was a
tiny flub, but Shakespeare is so particular that there’s no ad libbing
possible.
Near the very end of the show, Puck has a monologue where
she whispers spookily, “Now the hungry lion roars,
and the wolf howls at the moon.” Tonight, she said, “Not the hungry lion roars,” and immediately a speedboat off
on the water started up its engine making a huge roaring sound! So perfect it
sounded rigged!
After the standing O, we ran offstage after the bows, into
the greenroom, and everyone danced and chanted, “Bergomask!” over and over
again until we were happily exhausted. A perfect ending to a great night!
Fourth Show
(Saturday)
It was much breezier tonight, meaning more waves and
therefore more background noise to overcome. But fewer mosquitos!
With the wind came some angry clouds but—luckily—no
thunderstorms. Even light rain would make the show difficult as there’s no
cover between the greenroom and any entrance to the stage. But any lightning
would mean the whole show would have to be canceled because our tent is held up
by lovely metal poles.
The audience was absolutely fantastic, very responsive. They
laughed right at the start of my scene with Puck and again at Puck’s acorn
cups. They’re funny moments but it’s the first time the audience sees fairies—any
fairy—so often they don’t get many laughs. But not tonight!
Puck was played by a woman—not entirely uncommon—who was
incredibly flexible and could contort herself into the oddest positions. She
clapped with her feet, leaped fearlessly, and made a green spandex bodysuit
look good (I know, I didn’t think I could be done either). The bows were
originally staged to have the lovers bow last but this was changed after a few
shows—on recommendation from the lovers—that she take the last bow. And from
the audience’s reaction to her, they agreed.
Unfortunately, during the last act during the wedding
entertainment tonight, one of the lovers’ goblets of water was knocked over.
There wasn’t much water in it, and nothing they could do about it at the time.
In itself, not a big deal. Until us fairies came on after
them to dance, and one of us slipped. Not me! She was up in a snap but the thud
gave it away. In other news, we got a review praising the entire show,
including the fairies lullaby for our harmonies!
Closing Night
(Sunday)
The end is nigh!
We got to set super early for the cast photo and so we could
do our make-up in the squishy greenroom (seven mirrors, twenty odd cast
members…) in peace. I ended up spending most of the afternoon talking with my
Fairy Queen, who’d I gotten to know fairly well, and taking many, many
pictures.
The stage manager played 90’s rock hits over the speaker
while our other stage manager danced with us—spontaneous dancing was her specialty—as
we got ready. My hair doubles in size when I backcomb it. Sad, yet impressive.
During the show, we can hear what’s going on through the
speakers and we can sneak behind the tent and peek through to watch. I usually
only watched a few scenes a night, depending on when I was ready and what else
there was to do. Some of the others played Headbands backstage, and Philostrate
used to read Plato (and she finished it too!).
There were a few scenes that I just loved to watch. The
opening where Theseus chases the giggling Hippolyta onstage and attempts to
steal her apple. The lovers fights—between Lysander and Demetrius, and between
Hermia and Helena—were so much fun and a prime example of why Shakespeare
should be seen and not just read (ahem, every English department
ever).
Near the beginning, Helena tells Dementius that she is
utterly willing and would be happy if he treated her merely as a dog. It’s a
scene I never particularly liked until Helena brought out her puppy dog eyes
and looked so adorable imitating a cocker spaniel that how could you not want her! There was also a scene where
Lysander—under a spell—takes a look at Hermia and is so disgusted with her that
he almost vomits as he exits. Priceless.
The play-within-a-play scene was utter ridiculousness. I
still don’t know what ‘loam’ is and suspect the others don’t either, but it
must be impressive. Plus, the Wall got both his ears kissed by men. Always fun.
Meanwhile, the Director character mouthed along the lines with the actors in
the corner, the lion roared, the man used falsetto, the woman (but not the
woman character) snapped, and Bottom died. Insanity.
A wonderful way to spend the summer!
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