Warm Springs (HBO-2005)

Here is the abridged review (and the only one I've written) of Warm Springs, the 2005 HBO movie about the eight- to ten-year runup to Franklin D. Roosevelt's run for U.S. president, to wit, his involvement in the movement to treat and rehabilitate his fellow citizens who, like himself, were paralyzed by the devastating polio epidemic in the early decades of the twentieth century. First as a patient and eventually as its owner at Warm Springs, Georgia, Roosevelt became a champion of his fellow sufferers and found his own will to survive and then flourish. It is a story we've rarely heard, and whether or not the producers have gilded its lily, it makes a beautiful movie. Kenneth Branagh gives us an ambitious, successful, and extraordinarily gifted and big-hearted upper-class man of the people. How much Branagh's FDR resembles the original finally matters less, at least to me, than his full-bodied and nuanced characterization of a driven, then shattered, man who must reinvent himself in order to carry on. That FDR rose from a state of near total despair eventually to run and be elected an unprecedented four times for President provides heady grist for the mill of imagination. This story, in Branagh's hands, is poignant and inspiring with only a slight hint of sentimentality. And he is supported by a strong and elegant script, lush cinematography, and a fine set of perfectly pitched performances by Cynthia Nixon as Eleanor (or "Babs" to Franklin) (actually hers is not my favorite performance; she seemed to be working too hard); Tim Blake Nelson, as the Warm Springs manager who becomes a trusted friend and ally; David Paymer, his perseverant political manager; Kathy Bates, a physical therapist who joins forces to make Warm Springs widely available to polio patients; and Jane Alexander, the cold and overbearing matriarch of Hyde Park. This is a little slice of revisionism that appeals to our desire to have heroes, of whom there have been precious few since FDR.

Across the Universe (2007)

Julie Taymor's 1999 film Titus put me off; I found her iconoclastic use of mixed media and her apparent lust for violence somehow too extreme for Shakespeare's musical and elegant language. In contrast, her current release, Across the Universe, an original movie musical, designed around more than thirty songs written by Paul McCartney and John Lennon as members of the Beatles, captivated, inspired, and moved me. Born in 1952, Taymor, like me, grew up on the Beatles and cut her cultural teeth on the tumultuous years of the war in Vietnam. I imagine that any red-blooded American born in the same era will find points of resonance in this film too numerous to express. Having heard the original versions of these songs for the past over three decades, before seeing Across the Universe I had always taken for granted their ageless appeal. The movie presents a wide cross-section of the Beatles' compositions, ranging from the very early "I Wanna Hold Your Hand" (shot in muted pastels) to the later and more cutting-edge "I Am a Walrus" (shot with wildly imaginative psychedelic colors and images). Of particular note is the stunning gospel choir rendition of "Let It Be," but detailed musical and choreographic attention is given to every cover, to magnificent effect.

This is the story of love between Jude and Lucy, told against the backdrop of war, protest, and youthful disillusionment with authority. Jim Sturgess is Jude, the working-class Liverpool lad, who travels to America (Princeton University, to be exact) in search of his biological dad, who flew the coop while Jude was still a "bun in the oven." In the process, he meets Max (Joe Anderson), a disaffected student, who argues over fancy family dinners with his conservative father about making meaning of his life. Max introduces Jude to his sister, Lucy (Evan Rachel Wood), the blonde prep-school girl who evolves from a complacent patriot into a zealous antiwar activist when her high school sweetheart becomes one of the thousands of American casualties of that long, bloody, and ultimately wasted war. When Max is drafted promptly after dropping out of Princeton, the plot is off and running, from the bloody riots on the streets of Detroit to the bloody jungles of Vietnam, with our three heroes trapped in the vortex.

Perhaps we Beatles-loving baby boomers can appreciate the historical and artistic impact of Across the Universe more fully than audiences of a different generation. For us graying Americans, this movie will certainly take its place among the classics.

Hairspray (2007)

I was first introduced to Adam Shankman when he guest-judged on So You Think You Can Dance, which I thoroughly enjoyed watching for the first time this season (it is the best show on television, in my humble opinion). The contestants were treated to a special screening of Hairspray, and the footage of their outing matched the joy Adam Shankman has exuded in every appearance I've seen. The man is a sparkler of exuberant talent. Hairspray is a festival, exquisitely produced and as colorful as a box of Crayolas. Adam Shankman directed and choreographed this film adaptation of the musical stage play that was based on the original 1988 John Waters movie. I haven't seen the original, but I suspect Shankman has preserved its ingenious conceit, which wrapped a serious moral and social film (about racial and class injustice) in so much fun and laughter that it was an easy pill to swallow. Veterans John Travolta, Michelle Pfeiffer, Chrisopher Walken, and Queen Latifah lend easy expertise to the movie, which features two young newcomers with wonderful potential, Nikki Blonsky (as Tracy Turnblad) and Elijah Kelley (as Seaweed). Travolta plays Tracy's mother, not in drag but as a woman, and is impressively nimble and feminine in the role. Pfeiffer is a delicious villain who gets her comeuppance most satisfactorily. If only the real world could reflect the equilibrium that Hairspray's earnest characters have achieved--through song, dance, and good intentions.

Breach (2007)

I watched Breach on the small screen, over the course of a few days--life intervened as it so peskily will. Every time I returned to the movie, I had to back up several scenes so I could re-enter the world of espionage and suspense created by director Billy Ray. The filmmaker had a double challenge in telling the true story of events leading up to the capture of double agent Robert Hanssen, who, during his nearly thirty years with the FBI, sold millions of dollars worth of classified materials to the Soviet Union. Ray has risen to both challenges with great success.

His first challenge was to avoid the easy but unsubtle tricks characterized by less successful thrillers. The only music in the film is inherent in a scene; there is no score to telegraph the mood intended by the action. This increases the load on the writers, the actors, and the camera work, which is shared to great effect by all parties. Jeffrey Ford has edited Tak Fujimoto's photography into a seamless and visually taut piece. Delivering subtly contained and deeply realized performances are the versatile Chris Cooper as the tightly wound and obsessively Catholic Hanssen; a more serious and mature Ryan Phillipe than we've seen before as the ambitious Eric O'Neill, who clinches the sting on his new boss; and the intelligent and always solid Laura Linney as the furrow-browed and world-weary Kate Burroughs, the agent in charge of the operation. Ray gets a screenplay credit (along with Adam Mazer and William Rotko, who co-wrote the story); this talented trio has put its collective ear to the ground and created a screenplay that resonates with unembellished authenticity.

This brings us to Mr. Ray's second challenge, which was to tell a story whose ending everyone not living under a rock knows. Since it is not waiting to see how the movie ends that grips us, it is by the telling that we are ensnared. Breach is not Ray's first docudrama. He wrote and directed Shattered Glass (2003), based on the young D.C. journalist Stephen Glass, who was hoist by his own petard after fabricating over half of his reports at The New Republic. Breach demonstrates marked growth in Ray's discipline and consistency of style, and gives thriller aficionados plenty to look forward to from this talented young director.

Moulin Rouge (2002)

For lovers of the musical theatre (the original venue for musical plays, older than its little stepsister, the movie musical), the PR for Moulin Rouge was very tempting, especially given the calliope of popular songs featured in the soundtrack. Viewed on the small screen (as I did), it no doubt lost some of its dazzle, but I think if I’d seen it in a movie theatre I might have become dizzy. The production is nearly blinding in its colorfulness, and there is so much going on visually that it is hard to take it all in. It is a jangling jumble of many entertainments--circus sideshow, fantasy, romance, dark comedy, and burlesque. It’s as if Baz Luhrmann made every movie he’s ever wanted to make, all at once.

The performances were fine, and there were plenty of compelling moments. The sweet singing voices of both Satine (Nicole Kidman) and Christian (Ewan McGregor) were the biggest surprise. Unfortunately, I didn’t really feel their chemistry and the contrast between their mutual love and their disdain for the bad duke (Richard Roxburgh) could have been drawn more clearly for better dramatic effect. Jim Broadbent--who played the conflicted Zidler, proprietor of the Moulin Rouge--of all the actors, seemed to grasp the need for a bigger-than-life performance. John Leguizamo, a wonderful character actor, had too little to do as Toulouse-Lautrec.

The movie only partly worked, and it was the basic innocence and universality of the appealing story that saved it from finally exploding like an ambitious science experiment with too many ingredients.

Jungle Fever (1991)

Spike Lee made Jungle Fever in 1991, but I never saw it until a couple of weeks ago. I can't say why I never got around to seeing this movie--it was partly accidental, I'm sure, because I have been a fan of Lee's other movies, especially Do the Right Thing.

Lee has a keen eye and ear for a day in the life of New York City, and his finger firmly on the pulse of the city's racial maelstrom. Jungle Fever painfully explodes the notion that black-white relations have improved all that much since the Civil Rights movement. The large and thoroughly accomplished cast is headed by Wesley Snipes as the upwardly mobile architect Flipper Purify, an apparently happy family man in Harlem, whose white bosses (the smarmy Tim Robbins and Brad Dourif) hire the young Italian-American Angie Tucci (Anabella Sciorra) from Bensonhurst as his assistant, against Flipper's protestations. I have never seen Snipes as effective (bright, dignified, and deeply conflicted). The torrid affair that ensues between the co-workers sets off a series of aftershocks among people on both sides of midtown, among them Flipper's father--the self-righteous Reverend Doctor Purify (the late Ossie Davis), who is addressed and referred to as the "Good Reverend Doctor"--and his heartbreakingly enabling mother, Lucinda Purify (Ruby Dee); Samuel L. Jackson (Gator Purify) as his tragic, crack-addicted brother; Halle Berry, a powerhouse as Gator's addict girlfriend, Vivian; Lonette McKee as Flipper's cuckolded wife, Drew (who brings a proper rage to the role); and Lee as his trusted friend, Cyrus, whose careless pillow talk ignites the conflagration. Angie's family seethes with racism and resentment--Frank Vincent as Mike, her father, and Michael Imperioli and David Dundara as her protective older brothers, James and Charley. Filling out the magnificent ensemble are John Turturro (the sole voice of reason among the vituperating Bensonhurst gang), Nicholas Turturro, Michael Badalucco, Queen Latifah, and the incomparable late Anthony Quinn (as John Turturro's bitter, widowed father).

I can't name another American movie with such a star-studded marquee, and certainly very few in which the characters have all been given such real and moving dialogue. The context and trappings may seem a touch dated to some current viewers, and some may complain that the movie is populated with stereotypes. Handled by a less skillful writer and filmmaker, Jungle Fever might have fallen on the sword of cliche. But cliche or not, the lesson of the movie is timeless: You've got to be taught to hate and fear, and also not to.

The melody lingers on

Annie Get Your Gun closed on Sunday, amidst a swirl of laughter, tears, and celebration. A more closely bonded company I have never experienced, and it was hard to let go. However, when I asked the company if they would rather not have had this adventure so that they wouldn't have to be sad when it ended, it was a unanimous "of course not." The chance to work with such a diverse group of citizens on a common cause for the benefit of our community was a gift that promises to deliver dividends for years to come. I take immense satisfaction in the work we have done, and I am already cherishing my memories and friendships, which will far exceed the limits of our run. As with all productions I've helped to happen, the neat brick path to opening night was strewn with hurdles and mysteries, and the trip was an unalloyed joy.

Birthday party!

Our added show went well last night. It was too warm in the theatre, but our audience was most responsive and demonstrative anyway. Rick O and Rick R both took their final bows as running crew members, and it was Ria's first night on the sound and Sophia's as Laura's understudy. Afterwards, it was birthday party time for Lizz (18) (Tuesday) and Ramon (22) and Adrian (8) (both on Wednesday). They shared a really cool cowboy cake, and I have a feeling their wishes are going to come true.

Bittersweet Sunday

Four weekends down, and the show has grown really well. Understudy Jena gave her second and final performance as Annie this afternoon, and her first-act finale made me weepy. Lacey and Jena have earned every word of every accolade they have received for their work in the role.

The show was terrific this afternoon, as tight and energetic as our best. Our audiences have been consistently appreciative, and we’ve played to full houses since the first weekend. Today’s matinee was Laura’s last performance before she heads off with her high school choir on a European tour. That was very bittersweet for just about all of us.

We have built a strong and tight-knit community while building our show, and although we're all no doubt looking forward to the next thing in our lives, it will be with heavy hearts that we bid it good-bye. I'm grateful for the extra performance on Thursday, for one extra chance to be together.

Another Friday night

Tonight we had our most vocal and engaged audience (another sellout crowd) yet. They belly-laughed over and over again, and really seemed to appreciate many of the nuances now present as the show has grown. Maybe their response had something to do with the cast's enthusiastic warmup ("I've Got the Sun in the Morning," shown here), after five days off, and the knowledge that our success has made it necessary for us to add a performance. We are a cohesive group, and, more and more, we all seem to realize that the life of our family is short lived. The one downside of doing shows is that all good things must come to an end. We all are beginning to dread the end of this exciting adventure. So the more records of our fun we can accumulate, the better. I am hopeful that we'll all stay in touch. That would be the most I can hope for, short of developing a hard shell that sentiment cannot permeate.

It's a hit!

What a troupe! They have impressed me with their professionalism and dedication over and over again, and now, for more evidence, they have agreed to add a performance, on Thursday, June 21, to satisfy our avid public. Making this work involved sacrifices and adjustments by many of our members. It's the sure sign of a hit when performances must be added to try to accommodate everyone who wants to see a show.

In a groove

Our first seven performances have played to solid and nearly sold out houses, and we have been told that this afternoon's (Sunday) matinee is a sellout, too. Our audiences have watched intently and with great appreciation for the humor and quality of our company. At this point, I can no longer be objective, as one's own child always eludes impartial eyes. However, compliments from several people whose opinions I respect have indicated that we "Annie" family members are not the only ones who love our show. The reviewer from the San Luis Obispo Tribune, for one, waxed enthusiastic.

Opening weekend

We had a very successful opening weekend, and are expecting a positive writeup from the Tribune writer who attended Saturday afternoon's performance. The show gelled almost magically, the way well prepared shows do, on opening night, and we were greeted with great enthusiasm and applause. I could not have been more delighted; it was a huge high for all of us. Music director (and busy cast member) John and I are shown toasting our cast (picture) above at the after party.

Preview

I couldn't have been happier with our preview performance. Everybody focused and gave full energy, the transitions were smooth, and our audience smiled and laughed and watched with great attention throughout. I'm proud of this show and my company, and feel as if I've given and gotten back in equal measure. The rehearsal process is now behind us, and the performance process begins officially with our opening tonight. I know the show will grow and evolve as the run proceeds, and that is wonderful to watch, also, but my job is essentially done. Now I get to sit back and enjoy the fruits of my labor.

Final rehearsal

Though arduous and sometimes trying, we went from the beginning to the end of the show tonight, trying to iron out all the wrinkles that arose in the past two dress rehearsals, and before then. The actors and crew demonstrated great patience, all things considered. So, to reward them, I presented them with my director's gift of Annie Get Your Gun tee shirts, which they received with delight and model here (Adrian--Little Jake--above, and a whole bunch of us--with my leading man, Jeff, planting one on me--below). Everyone went home feeling excited and ready for tomorrow. I am, too!

Photo opportunity

Before last night's second full dress rehearsal we had our official photo shoot. This pose, which includes me, was taken at the behest of the cast, both by the professional photog and various visitors on the scene (one such shot shown here). Our runthrough was full of holes and very sloppy, after Monday's really good rehearsal, so tonight, instead of having another full dress rehearsal we'll work on some loose spots and try to nail down most of the threads that continue to fly in the breeze. I am hopeful that finally having new eyes on the show (i.e., audiences) will pump up the adrenaline and take care of a lot of the flaws I saw in last night's performance. In any case, we'll find out plenty soon enough!

First full dress rehearsal

Our first full dress rehearsal last night went extremely smoothly, considering all the elements that had to come into place simultaneously. Sure, there were some mishaps, but since we struck the hazardous platform the day before, at least we didn't have that to concern ourselves with (four actors tripped over it before I got smart and yanked it). "The costumes, the scen'ry, the makeup, the props" . . . Now all we lack is "the audience that lifts you when you're down," and we'll have that, for our preview, on Thursday. We're on the train now, and there's no disembarking until June 24--whoo-hoooooo!

And then there were three

After finishing rehearsal an hour early on Saturday, we needed an extra hour to do everything scheduled for Sunday, which included our final runthrough without costumes and tech. After the runthrough I stayed an extra two and a half hours at the theatre, painting various flat braces, troubleshooting certain props, and trying to get a good assessment of what remains to do, technically, for Thursday's preview. Then I came home and spent two and a half hours writing up the notes from the runthrough. So many details (Ron and Lynn are shown above attending to some of them)--the more we nail down, the more there seem to be! However, I am accustomed to this pattern in the final days before an opening, so I am not discouraged, merely slightly more animated (even) than usual. Tonight we'll have our first full dress rehearsal; Rene reported yesterday that all the costumes are now complete, so it should be exciting to see them paraded on stage. The set is done, and we've cleaned up the scene changes with the deletion of a couple of superfluous (and potentially hazardous) set pieces. All told, we sit on the very edge of readiness for opening, and everyone is fully invested. I couldn't ask for more at this juncture.

From cue to cue

Thanks to being well organized and having a proactive and well organized lighting designer, today's cue-to-cue rehearsal was finished in record time--seriously, the quickest such rehearsal I've ever experienced. We got the lighting and sound cues programmed for the entire show in just over four hours, and then had time to rehearse three dance numbers. What a huge hurdle that was! And now we'll have six hours tomorrow to rehearse the scene changes, a couple of spots, and also do a complete runthrough--a total bonus day!

John returned from his long planned business week away, and we will all be delighted to welcome him back into the fold tomorrow, not only as music director but in his various roles in the ensemble.

Whoever is assigned to today's "Name That Moment" will have a chance to report on a classic director-as-clutz moment, when, during our break, I went out to the patio to join several people taking a little rest. The only problem was that I tried to walk through the plate glass window to get there. Oops. The janitors cleaned the theatre the night before last, including (apparently) the sliding doors. We all had a wonderful belly laugh over this, including me; I was unhurt and only slightly embarrassed, because I was laughing too hard to mind. I also stood in for the occasional missing actor in a scene or dance, which I always enjoy doing, to the great amusement of both cast and me. If I wasn't assured of their affection I might think they were laughing at me, but I know better. What a blast!

Hitting the punch lines

After last night's full runthrough (the last before we load in all the tech), I emerged with a double armload of notes--my own and the ones that Suzy provided while watching the entire show for the first time. In general, she felt the show was exactly where we want it to be with one week to go, and that we will reach a new peak on opening night, if the cast will tweak a few pacing moments, tie some loose threads here and there, tighten certain bits of the choreography, and just really own what they are doing. Honestly, I was nervous having Suzy watch the show, since at this point I am somewhat blinded by love and exhaustion. Her input was dead on, and extremely helpful! We do have very similar sensibilities, so incorporating the comments she made will flow naturally with the work I've already been doing. Tonight will give us our last chance to work on little bits and pieces. We're forced offsite again because of a performance in the theatre, and I will use the opportunity to maximum effect--I hope--by rehearsing a lot of very small moments. Then tomorrow it's on to the dry cue-to-cue rehearsal, followed by a wet one on Sunday (with any luck). Yvonne in the box office has reported that the show is already 58 percent sold, with a week to go before we open, so wa-hooo, and tick tock tick tock!

Close but no cigar

As our opening sneaks up on us--with eight days to go before the preview--more and more details seem to elude us. Tonight's runthrough of Act II made me laugh really hard in a few places and cringe with worry at several others. I am more and more imagining a house full of total newcomers to our show, responding and reacting to our work. It is so impossible to be objective about one's own work, but I am trying very hard to remain so as we go into our final rehearsals. One thing I can carry with me, which our whole company is holding on to, is just how dang much fun we're having, and how our collaboration on this show has brought a bunch of disparate people into a cohesive community. And that is a gift that will keep on giving, no matter what else happens.

The light at the end of the tunnel

Not that this has been a dark and scary tunnel--far from it--but we added some lights to last night's runthrough of Act I (Rebekah was just experimenting and presetting some cues), and oh, how a little light on the subject can turn it into a show! We're now on the final leg of our journey toward opening night, the curvy occasionally bumpy often exhilarating ride down a big hill that ends with what we hope will be the blessings by the theatre fairies on opening-night magic.

Everyone is pumped up and jiving and everyone has an opinion and a suggestion, as we effect so many of the technical details that until now have been only imagined. Last night I had to ask people to raise their hands and talk in order so I could process everything they had to offer. Little Adrian (age 7) raised his hand at the same time as a bunch of other (older) actors, so they were made to wait while Adrian talked. "Rachel, me and Kirsten [age 10] can do the double-time pattycake part now, so do you want us to do it tonight?" I said, "Excellent" and the entire company applauded. You should have seen the grins on Adrian and Kirsten's faces. Awwww! You could eat them up with a spoon!

The splinter brigade

Why is Lisa giving me the evil eye, you may ask. At yesterday's set work fest, we distressed the braces on the flats by dipping our hands in mud and rubbing them all over the wood. This was to make the flats look as if they've been "on the road" for a long time. Once four of our helpers caught splinters doing it this way, we graduated to brushing muddy brown paint (as Lisa is using in this picture) and then to dampened coffee grounds that we got by the bagful for free from Starbucks down the street. We also distressed the muslin for our tent flaps this way, and they are looking very well used at this point. Luckily, Mama Director was on hand to remove the splinters from the four afflicted workers--Kirsten (Jessie, age 10), Clancy (her sister, age 8, who would like to understudy every part in the show), Ramon (Tommy, age 21), and Sophia (ensemble, age 22). Everyone was very brave for the surgery, especially little Clancy, who was promised an extra special prize at the cast party for submitting to the needle, which she did and for which she was extremely pleased with herself!

Another banner day

Everyone in the cast (and then some) contributed to our work fest this weekend, and, as a result, we have more than 90 percent of the set built, all the lights hung and ready for the cue-to-cue rehearsals next weekend, and several rehearsals left during which to polish the scene changes and all the other details (in songs and scenes) that need it. Not to goose the gods, but I think we will be ready for opening night. I am pleased and satisfied going into our last week of regular rehearsals before tech week begins next Saturday. Pictured above is the banner that will be unfurled in the show-stopping opener and hang throughout the show.

Many hands make light work

Today we had a terrifically productive work fest at the theatre--building, painting, adding details, hanging lights, and generally making enormous progress in our technical production. In fact, we got so much done with so many helpers from the cast (and their families, in some cases) that tomorrow's agenda has shrunk considerably, and we should be in excellent shape to begin full runthroughs using the set by Tuesday or Wednesday. Since we don't open for another week and a day after that, we all consider this quite a gift. In these pictures (from top) we see Captain Ron (as we call Ron/Pawnee Bill, our construction chief) getting ready to cut some more wood for some platform or flat or other (that's our 7-year-old Adrian's grandpa Pat in the background); Laura and Jena mugging for the camera as they take a break from painting the bunks for the train scene (with Betsy, who is not in the show but who generously volunteered to help, in the background); Lacey (Annie) and me (whose pants were painted courtesy of the cast--those devils--today); Ramon (Tommy) as a monkey hanging lights; and Jessica (Winnie) taking a bite of stage manager Sharon's scrumptious coffee cake (Sharon brings fresh-baked cookies to every rehearsal--oh no, our waistlines!) as she gets ready to move some panels out from in front of the train scene. The way our cast and crew have bonded and get along is just beautiful. Even painting, hoisting, lugging, bending, kneeling, stretching, and bolting are part of the fun (and the three pizzas to which I treated everyone today didn't hurt either).

The hat trick

Yesterday we jumped over three hurdles, so I went to bed feeling really satisfied. First, we solved the problem of the too-big flats with a solution that will not only work great for our play-within-a-play conceit but will greatly reduce the amount of labor yet required to complete our set--from seven painted flats to four (three of which are already done)--yee-ha! Second, we decided to mic the two leads, and can do it without spending any money, thanks to Eric and his huge inventory of sound equipment. I think we're going to lick the perennial problem of the sound balance in the Little once and for all with our new sound design--yee-ha again! And finally, we blocked the scene changes for the entire show last night, a necessary if tedious and at times maddening exercise, and were out of there by ten--a total yee-ha!!

Coming to life

Tonight's rehearsal satisfied on every level more than last night's. All tasks on the agenda were accomplished (reviewing some choreography and running Act II), and we started to focus on the technical world of our show. Tomorrow night we will spend the entire rehearsal blocking the scene changes (moving set pieces from one scene to the next, which, in this show, will be done in full light since they are part of the play within the play) and the bows. Tonight John told me that he's heard it's bad luck to block the bows before the last tech rehearsal, which I've never heard before, but I must say it did give me pause. I will think about it over night and tomorrow before rehearsal. Maybe I'll wait, being just as superstitious as the next good theatre rat. Shown above are Jayne's flats, from top: a partial view of the Wilson Arms Hotel for Act I, Scene 1; both halves of the Pullman car on the Overland Steam Train for Act I, Scene 2; and the assembled flat for the Hotel Brevoort Ballroom in Act II, Scene 2.

The countdown begins

Now that we're in our ultimate performing space (for the most part), it's finally dawned on us that we'll actually be performing a show in 17 days. Today was huge. We loaded in three of the seven flats (must find a way to get the other four painted in just over two weeks, after Jayne spent the past several weeks doing just three . . .), and we rehearsed in our space for the first time tonight. It was a frustrating rehearsal--too much to bite off and chew all at once, and I think everyone was feeling the reality of the situation, that it's not just "sometime in the future anymore," but around the corner. This is a huge show in terms of costumes, music, choreography, and even sets (a simple concept has turned complicated in execution), and our time to get it all done is more finite by the day. On the other hand, we have a good number of willing contributors, and this weekend should see a great deal of progress on the technical front (let's hope and pray so, anyway). Pictures of the fabulous flats that Jayne painted for us will be posted soon . . . they are awesome!

On the verge of being home

Dancing at Lughnasa, the current Little Theatre show, will close and be struck tomorrow, and as of Monday the theatre will be (mostly) ours. (We still have to hold two more rehearsals offsite next week, to accommodate the Readers' Theatre series for its tech rehearsal and performance). But we can get started on Monday loading in the technical elements of the show, and it's a welcome landmark in our journey. Three of the four flats are complete, thanks to Jayne's wonderful labors, and I can't wait to see them when we go to pick them up Monday morning. And that will leave us with four flats to finish, the assembling of the flats, and a few other set pieces to construct. Not to mention painting the floor and hanging the lights and completing the props inventory, and setting the sound and light cues, and figuring out how to create the sound of gunshots live, and numerous other odds and ends that make the last three weeks before an opening such an exhilarating and slightly chaotic ride.

We're pretty well organized and know which tasks lie ahead, plus I've made it mandatory that everyone pitch in to help for at least four hours next weekend, which will enable us to finish a tremendous amount of work, with our big cast and all their relatives!

Wild West Show posters

Yesterday we held our photo shoot for the posters of Frank Butler and Annie Oakley that will appear in two scenes of the show. It's amazing what part of a costume and some work on hair and makeup can do to transform a civilian into a character. Here are some samples of the pictures we took, with the genuine article to the left, and Lacey, Jena, and Jeff below. Jena will play Annie for two performances, so we need a poster of her, too. Charlene will doctor the photos to make them look authentic to the period.

From the sublime to the ridiculous

Sunday night we held our ensemble recording session, a plan that grew out of our desire to augment the sound of our ensemble. The rehearsal was scheduled for 7 p.m. at the Little Theatre (which will be ours for keeps next Monday, hallelujah), and everyone understood that we would go until 10 p.m. or until we finished recording everything we had on our list. It was almost miraculous how well it went. We started at about quarter past seven--once all the recording equipment was set up and checked--and we were completely done by 9:15! The cast was focused like a laser beam on the task at hand, and the first take of the opening number (a huge, complicated, show-stopping kind of piece) was so fine that the second and third takes were just for good measure! We recorded a total of four ensemble numbers, and every song was the same way. There wasn't an extraneous peep, cough, or scuffle from a soul, including everyone from our little 7-year-old to our 72-year-old! After that rehearsal I decided that a night off would do us all good, and canceled Monday's rehearsal. If it hadn't been that we couldn't have our big space at the synagogue where we've held most of our offsite rehearsals, I probably wouldn't have made that decision, but it seemed like a good time for a break, and the cast really appreciated it.

So then tonight we held a full runthrough, our first in quite a while, and it disappointed in pretty much every way, not only me also the cast. The one really bright spot was Jena as Annie; she rose to the occasion beautifully. Otherwise, it was very low on energy, sloppy, slow paced, and generally discouraging, especially as compared with previous runthroughs and rehearsals. I realize that this poor runthrough is part of the process, and can almost be predicted, but that didn't take away from the sting of its deficiencies. I think, however, that the cast really understood where I was coming from in my little post-runthrough lecture, and I am fully expecting a total rebound recovery the next time we get together. And you could have heard a pin drop when I gathered them for my comments afterwards. There is no question but that each and every one of them wants the show to be good, and is fully invested in its success. And that is what I will take with me into the next rehearsal, and the one after that. It's a lovely group of talented people, and I do have confidence that our ultimate "product" will be quite wonderful.

Dancing by the light of the moon

I continue to marvel at how productive our time with Suzy has been for this show; it feels as if we are accomplishing much more, much more quickly than we did doing West Side Story, but it's hard to know how much of this is just a matter of dim memory and how much is accurate. In any case, with a month until the preview, we have completed choreography for many songs, almost completed it for a couple more, and have only one solo and one ensemble number left to do from scratch. The solos are a piece of cake, especially with Lacey and Jeff in the leads; they are such a joy to watch at work. Suzy refers to her process with these two as "Add water and stir."

I met with Rebekah, the lighting designer, this afternoon over lunch, and we went through the script, page by page, while I described the action and the mood and she asked the occasional question or threw in a suggestion. I think she will light the show just right.

Sound check

Last night we had a good-sized audience for our sound check at the Little Theatre, and the evening was most productive, in two ways. First, having an audience for the songs created some nervous energy that I reminded the cast afterwards can be very useful when it comes time for our official performances. I said, "Use that energy. Convert the feeling that you might throw up into an opportunity to have fun." The audience was wonderfully supportive and helpful, and I think we learned a lot about what we need to do not only for our show but for all future musicals at the theatre. Second, we created some buzz among a big group of people who will, we hope, spread the word. Of course I took the opportunity to invite everyone to get his ticket if he didn't have it already! As they left, many in attendance commented to me that the show is going to be great, and this was based on a choreography-free, costume- and set-free, and pretty-much-just-standing-and-singing rehearsal. Into the bargain, I got to "play" the role of Winnie, who was absent. For the duet "Who Do You Love, I Hope," it was a real performance, a very unusual experience for me, since I hadn't acted (for an audience) in decades. I had a blast!

Taking a chance

Last night I did a daring thing, for me, and took a stab at staging the finale. There were two reasons for this--one, to save time in our allotted time with Suzy for the longer, more dancelike pieces, and two, because I thought I had an idea or two and thought it would be a good exercise for me. I'm not totally happy with how it looks, but I'll tweak it and then show it to Suzy. And even if she completely throws it out, at least we will have given her something to work with. Suzy has appreciated the groundwork we've laid for all the musical numbers, which has enabled her to start at a point more advanced than square one.

Dolly's winners

Last night we worked on the nitty-gritty of several scenes that had emerged from our runthrough last week as needing TLC. We didn't sing a note or dance a step, but we accomplished a great deal. Cody, who will understudy the role of Tommy (and play the part for one performance), came for rehearsal (one of his very first) and plunged right into the action when asked. Kudos to him! At T.C. (Dolly)'s request, the winners of her "Name That Moment" entry posed for a picture (from left--Jessica (Rice-a-Roni), me (Crackerjack), Ramon (Rice-a-Roni), and Holly (Daffy Taffy). This game has been a great idea. The three entries we've gotten so far are lots of fun and also insightful.

Magic slippers

It’s just plain exhilarating, stimulating, and inspiring to spend the hours making our show. Not only were the numbers we dance captained during the week in excellent shape on first runthroughs (by Suzy's standards), but we accomplished a huge amount of new stuff today. The opener is completely done, the Pantomime is nearly done, Suzy and Lacey whipped through Annie’s Show Biz reprise, and we finished choreographing “Anything You Can Do.” I made an executive decision to replace Liana with Pat as the Queen of England, since Liana is missing these two weeks, and all were forewarned that they might be pulled from numbers for which they missed the rehearsals. Suzy, John, and Pat herself were all completely on board with that decision.

Suzy and I have engaged in a mutual-admiration society this evening, exchanging extolling emails. What a pleasure it is to work with her—she is so professional and respectful and unbelievably brilliant. Today’s rehearsal was scary good. People are beginning to find the zone, and I see huge potential for the show. We don’t want to peak too early, so I have to keep thinking of ways to up the ante. Name That Moment is one good technique, for sure! T.C.’s first entry in our game was awesome—so playful and fun and also meaningful. Suzy’s entry today was totally different but also fully felt. This will make a great collection as a souvenir for the company!

Dancing at Lughnasa

Tonight I went to see the current show at SLOLT, the one whose excellent set is preventing us from rehearsing Annie Get Your Gun in our ultimate performance space. It’s Dancing at Lughnasa, directed by Anet Carlin, and, with full appreciation and admiration for Anet’s work and that of the actors, this was my second experience of this play by Brian Friel, and I simply do not care much for the piece. It was hard for me to engage, and I’m not entirely sure of all the reasons. One, two, and three may have to do with my total preoccupation with AGYG these days (about as different a play as you could have, to follow Lughnasa). But reasons four, five, and six have everything to do with the play itself. This Irish domestic drama has an arc, but it is subtle, and it requires a level of attention that is not easily attained. It has humor, but not enough (to my sensibility). It is in turns serious and light, but it's not always clear which is meant. In addition, I felt that there was too much narration (the stage equivalent of the movie voiceover, a device that shortcuts to the goal of a play). Add to that a highly stylized delivery with the erratic Irish accents, and I never could find a foothold. However, the set (as I’ve said), staging, character development, and relationships were impressive, and Anet’s directorial gifts were evident in the show. She obviously has a great ear, good economy of movement, and a fine sense of humor. And she has clearly and lovingly attended to the script. I preferred some performances to others, but all eight actors were invested, present, and consistent. It was very good to see how much everyone seemed to care about the show. All in all, this was an evening in which there was much to applaud except, unfortunately, the script itself.

Name That Moment

I have been inspired to invent an email game, "Name That Moment," for the Annie Get Your Gun company to play between now and May 24, exactly five weeks from today. The following is an excerpt from the email I sent this morning.

"Here are the rules: Every day a different person in our company must offer a favorite moment from the previous rehearsal. If your assignment were today, for example, your comment would be due tomorrow. You can write about one or more actors, a director or a crew member, a scene, a song, a bit of choreography, a line or a move, or even something that happened during rehearsal that did not involve the actual action (for example, 'I loved when Rene' unveiled Dolly's hat with the bird that Annie will shoot off'). You must refer to a moment that everyone present either did or saw, and you must include at least one other person besides yourself in your comments. For example, if my assignment were last night's rehearsal, I would say, 'My favorite moment from last night's runthrough was the opening. The singing, dancing, energy, and character have never been better, and I thought, wow, we have ourselves a show!' Or, I might say, 'That moment when the whole company sang, 'I've-Got-the-Sun,' with the rhythmic punching in the air, after the patti-cake section, raised goosebumps on my arms!' A third example might be the moment between Sitting Bull and Annie about her chestful of gold and medals, which was riotously funny. These are examples, but you must pick just one moment to describe, your very favorite, for whatever reason."

Then I assigned a rehearsal between now and May 24 to each person, followed by this:

"At our cast party, after the close of the show, there will be (really good) prizes for the following entries, in no particular order: funniest, most poignant, most keenly observed, best written, and most original. As director and inventor of the game, the decisions are mine and are to be considered final.

"If you have any questions about the rules for this game, please ask me, especially before it's your turn! I look forward eagerly to your entries, and hope that you will have loads of fun playing Name That Moment!

"Reply code: 'Oy, not another game . . . well, OK!'" (I always include a reply code in my company emails, so I can be sure everyone has received my bons mots.)

Four times better

After last night's runthrough, I sent an email to the company, urging more energy and commitment to their work from here on out, and I'm very happy to report that tonight's runthrough was immensely improved over last night's; it was like a different show! How pleased am I! Afterwards, I told the cast that they are all stars to me, and that I am enjoying myself tremendously working on this show. The music, choreography, blocking, line retention, and spirit were all amped up like crazy for this runthrough, and for the first time I felt as if a real audience could have watched the rehearsal and gone home smiling. I'm pretty jazzed about how things are going, and I think all of the cast feels the same way.

We had a productive meeting about the sound in the theatre this afternoon, as well, and John and I both came away from that feeling that we're in pretty good shape, and will be able to work with the existing setup without too many adjustments. That was a huge relief.

Boarding the train

We were all excited on Monday, because we were finally able to get into our ultimate performing space, the Little Theatre, only to find that it is impossible for us to rehearse on the set for the current production, Dancing at Lughnasa, sad to say. So yesterday morning I made a lot of phone calls, scrambling for alternate spaces for all our rehearsals until the Lughnasa set is struck on May 6. I was pleased by the wonderful cooperation I found from Congregation Beth David and St. Stephen's Church, both of whom readily extended our use of their spaces.

It was a good thing, because it enabled us to have another full runthrough last evening, even fuller this time with the addition of the choreographed numbers. Every runthrough teaches me a lot about what still needs the most work. What I learned last night is that I need to go into the ensemble scenes and block more specific moves for the ensemble members, who need more to do to be really present in the scene. I intend to spend a whole rehearsal on that next week. That said, the show is gaining momentum. The music is generally in very good shape, and some of the actors are beginning to find a comfortable zone to inhabit that just works every time they get on the stage. Great progress is also happening in terms of costumes and props. We preview five weeks from tomorrow, and I think we have time to get into good shape for that goal.

Show biz birthday, part 2

My cast surprised me with a delicious chocolate cake, a lovely bouquet of roses last night, and a card signed by everybody--awww! Here I'm wearing Dolly's boa and showing off the flowers and the card Carey made for me, which amused everyone greatly.


The second picture shows the running circle that will be the big ta-da at the end of the opening number, which is really the most complicated one in the show. We pretty much finished choreographing it and two of Annie and Frank's duets, so we are in good shape going into tomorrow's marathon. For such a tiny person, Suzy certainly fills the room when she is at work.

A show biz birthday

Today is my birthday, and it finds me very cheerful indeed. My show is going great, I'm feeling young and healthy (even if I am 56), and dear ones--far and near--have remembered me very sweetly. This morning I received this lovely e-card from my sister Carey. I will frame and save it forever!

Sculpting a lump of clay

When Suzy works, it's as if she takes a lump of clay at the beginning of the night, and in three hours, she's sculpted a balanced, graceful, living, breathing work of art. These pictures don't do justice to our progress on the opening number last night, but the top left shot shows the cast singing "There's No Business Like Show Business" for her (she asked them to raise their hands when they were singing). Then we see Annie and her three siblings (and that's Pawnee Bill in the upper right corner of the picture). In the lower left are John (music director and multi-character ensemble member) and Jena (ensemble and Annie's understudy) in quite a different pose from the one I posted during their music rehearsal a few weeks ago. Finally, here's the cast in the pose they strike just before the climactic kickline part of the number. Suzy scribbles notes while she's listening to the number, seems to get a grasp of the piece after about two repetitions, and then works in sections. After consulting briefly with John and me, she jumps on the train and takes everyone for a thrilling ride. Watching the cast (especially newcomers to her work) responding to her ideas and instructions makes for great theatre in and of itself.

Before our first choreo rehearsal

Of course I'll have a report after our first choreography rehearsal tonight, but I have to say how excited I am, looking forward to it. We have the opening ("There's No Business Like Show Business") and the Entr'acte/Pantomime on the agenda for tonight. The actors are expected to dress all in black, wear their show shoes (character shoes for the women and cowboy boots or moccasins for the men), and remember their knee pads! Suzy will probably first say, "Show me any tricks you can do," whereupon the more acrobatic cast members will do their cartwheels and headstands and back flips, which she will promptly incorporate into the number. Yay, now begins the marriage of music and dance--such fun!

Charlie Brown

Yesterday I went with John (AGYG music director), Ron (Pawnee Bill), and Niklas (John's German exchange student) to see You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown at Unity, a play in this season's Kelrick Productions. It was a five-character piece, geared toward children but starring all people over the age of 15. It was a special treat to see our Annie (Lucy Van Pelt) and
Frank (Snoopy) doing characters completely different from the ones they play in our show. Jeff as Snoopy was particularly hilarious in the number "Suppertime," during which he vamped and frolicked all over the stage, and sang in every style from blues/gospel to opera. What a hoot!

After the show, we four went for a delicious Italian feast at Giuseppi's in downtown SLO, to which John treated us all--an early celebration of my birthday coming up this week. I had a ball all day long, and was delighted to reaffirm, once again, how very much good culture there is of which to partake in the beautiful San Luis Obispo.

We have fun!

Here are some of our players, as we restored our borrowed rehearsal space, the First American Title Company community room, to its prerehearsal state tonight. Clockwise from upper left: Jeff, who's playing Frank. As I shot the pic, he said, "I'm moving tables la la la." Next is Lacey, who's our Annie: "Try to get my better side." Jena (Annie understudy and ensemble member) and Jessica (Winnie) are pictured next. They said to each other, "What shall we do?" and came up with the pose you see. Then comes Ramon, our lovable Tommy, who said: "Oh, good; you got my good side."

We laughed ourselves silly in tonight's rehearsal, which was an intense working of several scenes, starting with the ones the kids are in, and ending with the leads. As an evening proceeds, we find ourselves getting giddier and giddier, no one more so than yours truly. Tonight we had Dolly kicking Winnie in the posterior as she exited (we'll keep it in), and Annie (Jena) and Tommy kickboxing in the corner (we won't keep that in). It is really exhilarating to watch the show coming into its own, and even more rewarding than that is how wonderfully everyone seems to be getting along and enjoying him- or herself. That is the most gratifying part of this process for me: how darned much just plain fun it is for all concerned!

First full runthrough

Tonight we had our first full runthrough, off book and with full music. We haven't added choreography yet; that process will begin next week, and, I must say, we are ready for that step. This runthrough was extremely encouraging. We got through the entire show in two hours and twenty minutes, which means that, with the inevitable tightening up that will come with further rehearsal, the show shouldn't exceed two and a quarter hours, with intermission . . . at least that is our goal. It was particularly fine, because we were in a brand new rehearsal space tonight, and so the cast had to adapt to it as well as perform the entire show. Lacey and Jeff are very fine as Annie and Frank, and even more inspiring than their talent is their dedication; they've learned everything so completely that they barely had to ask for a line. Their few duets are really fine--spine tingling, actually. And the sound of the ensemble on the big numbers is great. With the recording of the ensemble songs to double the sound of the chorus, it should be very good indeed. In fact, I told the cast afterwards that we are closer to being ready with the music than with the scenes. So my work is cut out for me, but I feel up to the challenge, and, with seven weeks until we open, comfortable that our time will be ample to accomplish the goal. We also took a bunch more head shots tonight for the program. I wish I had them to post here, but Ron (Jack-of-All-Trades) took them on his camera, so I must wait to receive the CD from him. Stay tuned for a picture or two of some of our players.

Pieces of the show

Yesterday Ron (my actor cum designer/carpenter/all-around handyman sine qua non) and I drove up to Cambria to the home of my dear friend, Jayne. When I directed at Coast Union High School (a lifetime ago) Jayne choreographed the shows. But she is a professional artist, having recently joined the brand new Trader Joe's in Templeton as a sign painter, and she (bless her heart) agreed to head up painting the seven flats for Annie Get Your Gun. So Ron ordered and precut the flats, and we delivered them to Jayne's, where we sat around her kitchen table and discussed all the scenes and how they should look and the historical context of the show, and came up with a plan for the seven flats. These will be BIG paintings! Each scene's backdrop will consist of two flats (each in two pieces), which, when joined, will measure 7-1/2 feet high by 16 feet wide. Jayne will have to find a way to lay out the lightweight board (1/4 inch wide), so she can prime, sketch, and paint. It's quite an undertaking. But our meeting went great, and both she and Ron are a tremendous source of inspiration and good ideas, so I'm really excited about how the set is going to look.

Annie Get Your Tickets Shout-Out

This is the email I'm sending to everyone I know, to advertise my show. I don't want anyone to miss it, and tickets are starting to go!

An enriching weekend

Don't ever let anyone tell you that San Luis Obispo is a two-bit town with second-rate performing arts. Ever since I moved to this area in 1997, I have been increasingly impressed not only with the huge number of performing arts events, but by the generally very high quality. Last night I went to the Little Theatre, where I'm directing Annie Get Your Gun, and took in a staged reading of Lee Blessing's Independence, a four-character play about a dysfunctional family--a mother and her three daughters. Blessing's ear for authentic dialogue, and his keen observation of American family life, in a performance by four really fine actors, made this a great evening of theatre (in turns hilarious, wincingly honest, and heartbreaking), and for only five bucks! The SLOLT Readers' Theatre program is growing by leaps and bounds, and affords a great opportunity for plays that might not draw huge audiences for mainstage productions to have a chance to be studied and heard. Last night's house was nearly full--always a welcome sight!

Tonight it was a very different kind of evening. The SLO Vocal Arts Ensemble (an internationally award-winning chorus) gave us its annual pops concert at the Clark Center in Arroyo Grande (a beautiful, relatively new performing arts center). The program was a mix of solo, small, and large numbers--all done in costume and choreographed--with a live orchestra on stage (piano, bass, drums, and some ace alto sax playing). Let me tell you, some of those really great singers are pretty gifted actors, too. The highlights of the evening were the several songs from Fiddler on the Roof, "Seasons of Love" from Rent (gorgeous), and the fall-on-the-floor-laughing "Swan Lake" danced by men in pink tutus. I found myself wishing I could have some of these guys in my show. But then I remembered that we had asked almost all the really good ones to audition for the parts we needed to fill, and because of their involvement in Vocal Arts they couldn't commit themselves to our long rehearsal and performance period.

In any case, I really have to get busy with SLO Show, so that I can continue to afford going to all these shows! There are so many I don't want to miss!

End of another week

Given the extent of the attrition and rehearsal conflicts we've had to deal with, I'd say we're in pretty dandy shape, with eight weeks to go until opening. We've pretty well nailed down our cast, and this past week of rehearsals saw a lot of improvement in all aspects of our show, even choreography, which we haven't officially begun to work on yet! Last night after a good hour-and-a-half music rehearsal (pictured are John, our music director, in an early rehearsal with our Annie understudy, Jena), I had to revise our scheduled plan because neither the actor playing Tommy nor his understudy was present, so I invited anyone who was interested in staying for some character work. This consisted of sitting in a circle (my cast is teasing me about circles now, I ask for them so often--"Uh-oh, Rachel wants us in another circle . . .!"), and in their characters' voices we had a long conversation, all about the issues in the show, the issues of the day (1888), the relationships among them--as characters--and so on. Those who participated left rehearsal saying that it had been a big help in learning to understand more about the roles they are playing. We'll see the next time we work on the scenes themselves just how much help it really was. In any case, it was a productive evening, and I came home feeling good about the show at the end of week 7 of rehearsal, almost halfway to our goal of opening night.

"Sun and Moon"

At last night's rehearsal we started by having the entire cast in a circle, singing "I've Got the Sun in the Morning," tossing one of my little crocheted animals in rhythm around the circle. The second time we did the song, we added a second animal in the other direction. I told them, "This is to warm you up for Suzy. If you think this is hard, just wait till she gets you going!" Everyone seemed to have a blast, and not only that, but everyone (even the more hesitant and halting members, musically) kept the rhythm and managed to sing the song. What a lot of progress we've made since we started rehearsing on February 1. It's something to behold. I love the fact that I have a seven-year-old boy standing next to a seventy-one-year-old woman, and they are both fully engaged with the entire group.

A Typical Day

At last night's rehearsal we discovered that the dialogue in the revised version of Annie Get Your Gun doesn't fit into the original version, which we are using, of the musical interlude in "They Say It's Wonderful." So here's how I've spent my last 16 hours: Went to bed at 1 a.m., after getting home at 10:30 from rehearsal and following up on all the emails that had come in and that I'd promised to send while I was gone. Got up this morning, caught up on the morning emails and phone calls, went to the gym, came home and rewrote the dialog (which involved paring more than rewriting, actually) for the song and typed up, printed, and three-hole-punched a new page 52 for all concerned parties; figured out how to rework the music cue for "I've Got the Sun in the Morning," and double-checked it with John, my incredible music director; got John's OK and emailed the final tweaks and changes for our soundtrack to Jason, our soundtrack guy; sent a message about the way we're going to stage Annie's Trick (it's a secret until you've come to the show) to my props manager (she is VERY busy, accumulating everything we need for the show); reviewed my script for tonight's scene rehearsal from 6:30 to 10; and took a shower. Now it's 5:15, and I'll think about having a bite to eat before I head out for the evening. Usually, I am way too wired to eat before rehearsal, so I don't, and come home famished afterwards. This is not how the nutritionists out there would say one should eat, but I'm directing a show, so hello!?--later for the rules.

Cooking with Gas

This afternoon the SLO Little Theatre was a' buzz with Annie Get Your Gun activity, and we're not even the next show to open! The costume designer, Rene, was like a tornado blowing through all the theatre's costume inventory upstairs, pulling western-style shirts, tuxedos with tails, 19th-century frocks, hats, and fringe skirts. In five trips we loaded up her van with the costumes she pulled from the chaotic upstairs wardrobe area. While she was foraging, I met downstairs with Jayne and Lynn, who will paint the set, and Ron, who will build the flats that the women will paint. What a find Ron was! I cast him to play Pawnee Bill; he's a 63-year-old realtor who has never acted before in his life. But even more than that, he used to do displays for May Company in L.A., and is a gifted carpenter. Who knew? So with my design (yes, I actually designed the set--a first for me) and Ron, Jayne, and Lynn to execute it, we're well on our way to having a huge chunk of backstage work done for our show, which doesn't open for eight more weeks!

The Brilliant Choreographer

I'm so grateful to have met Suzy, who choreographed my production of
West Side Story in 2005, and who is easily the Central Coast's busiest working artist, often working on six or seven or eight projects at once. Here we are (I know you can guess who is who), pictured after a WSS performance. Choreo rehearsals for Annie Get Your Gun begin soon; I'm excited!

The Blogging Rage

It seems that the urge to blog has overtaken the world--at least the world of my family. My niece has started a blog to give daily updates on the life of her seven-month-old son, with photos, videos, and the whole nine yards. My daughter writes about her twenty-something life in New York and reviews all the latest popular music, including pretty incisive reviews of the goings-on on American Idol.

I have a lot to say, too, but wouldn't share personal and private thoughts here. This will be my place to share about my experience at San Luis Obispo Little Theatre, directing Annie Get Your Gun, with relevant digression.

Yesterday I attended a dance concert at Cal Poly by the American Dance Studio. It was a tribute to the company's founder and guiding light, Pat Jackson, on the tenth anniversary of her premature death from breast cancer. What an inspiring afternoon! The show mixed footage of Miss Pat, as she was called--teaching, talking, and dancing--with live dance numbers by a huge troupe of local dancers, including the current American Dancers, of course. Suzy Miller choreographed most of the numbers, which were brilliant--funny, graceful, moving, and colorful.

I came home more determined than ever to make Annie Get Your Gun as excellent as I humanly can. It won't hurt, of course, that Miss Suzy is choreographing my show.