Rehearsals Week Two And A Half

It has just occurred to me that I have posted nothing about how rehearsals are going since my somewhat melodramatic post on the weekend terrors a week and a half ago. For those of you unfamiliar with actors, I'd just like to point out that it was an exercise in exorcism. Not to be taken entirely seriously.

For the record: It's not disaster, I've been rather well cast in the role, my American accent is perfectly fine and as for my portrayal of an intellectual lesbian writer... Come and see the show. Leave your expectations at the door. I'm not wearing dungarees and sensible shoes. In fact, I'll update you on the suit situation when I've had my costume fitting today.

So given that I'm not (and never was) about to be fired, what else has been happening in rehearsals?

We are starting to pull a story from the words on the page and bring it to life. Lucky that really, given that we open a week tomorrow! We are at that lovely stage in rehearsals where we know who we are, what we are doing and why we are doing it and can just get on with the business of communicating and reacting.

The music is starting to sound like... well... music, as opposed to a cacophony of wrong notes interspersed with "fuck","sorry" and "bollocks!". That's a very myopic view, obviously. Richard NEVER makes an unintentional mistake and whatever Rebecca plays sounds gorgeous to me, but I'm in awe of anyone who can make a pleasing sound from a wooden box and 4 lengths of cat gut. However, we are starting to sound like a band. Which given that there are only three of us is a testament to our skill and Richard's clever arrangements.

I love love love the trumpet parts, which are at times subtle and at times 'poco grandioso', which in the musical world is Italian for playing loudly and showing off quite a bit. A lot of the 'poco grandioso' sections are quite high and they need to soar. I'm practising my 'whisper tones'. This is an exercise where you blow so gently that the metal only just vibrates creating a sound not unlike a glass vibrating when you run your wet finger round the rim. It's a very good exercise for building stamina and high notes. So says Wynton Marsalis. If he's wrong, it could end up being 'poco flatuoso'

Meanwhile, on stage, Parksy is giving it the full-on Marlene. Since my last post we've been joined by Bev the choreographer and between them they have brought Marlene's last concert to life. Not that I have much time to pay too much attention. I have to concentrate on the conductor. If my gaze wanders, Richard is liable to bring me off without me even realising. Quelle horreur!

On a more serious note, we had some very sad news this week. Our author, playwright Pam Gems died on May 13th. I guess that solves the question of whether or not she's coming to see our show.

I was in two minds about whether or not to point you towards the obituary in the Guardian as Lynn Gardner (affectionately referred to by some directors I know as Osama Lynn Gardner) dismisses 'Marlene' as being among Pam Gems' least convincing plays: "no more than biopics for the stage that provided star turns for star actors".

Now she tells me! And I thought it was a love story about Marlene and a woman half her age. But hey, it's a free world and one thing you've got to say about Lynn Gardner is, she calls it as she sees it. However painful it may be being on the sharp end of her pencil, you've got to respect her for that.

So: Pam Gems RIP and Lynn, if you come to Scarborough, feel free to be as brutal as you see fit. That is your job after all.