In the Theatre

I’m sitting here, dressed to the nines in my voluminous 18th century house servant’s costume, complete with “butt roll.” (This is the moon shaped pillow that you tie around you so that your hips look much bigger as your petticoats are then held outwards. The crescent goes around your back and ties in the front. I think this may also be why gestures were higher in the 18th century (higher on your body), but that's just a guess.)

Figaro is playing on the speakers in our chorus dressing room. (Yes, it has the makeup mirrors with the bulbous lights on either side of them.) But I’m listening to a medieval piece, “Rose, Liz, Printemps”, as sung by Gothic Voices. This is one of the most beautiful and flowing pieces I’ve ever heard, and their voices are terrific. Just the thing to take my mind off the 85 degree warmth in here. (Try wearing multiple layers of heavy fabric in a generously heated room J )

We’re in the midst of our first full dress rehearsal for the show. It’s “performance conditions”, which means we’re running it as if the house were filled with people. Anyone not performing is expected to be in a dressing room. The stage manager is sitting in the wings, complete with intercom speaker, calling the show. (That means following everything with score in hand, calling out the cues as they occur. “10 minutes until Act II.” “Places for Act II.” “Figaro to the stage.” She also has all sorts of lighting and stagehand cues that tell people when to turn on what light, when to raise and lower the curtain, when the stage is clear so the stagehands can switch the set, etc. She’s basically the reason why the show ties together logistically.)

It’s an amazing thing to be in a theatre. The energy is so high, especially now that we’re in full costume and makeup. It will be even better when the house is full.

This theatre is particularly interesting, too. The wings are fairly sizeable, so there are giant set pieces on each side of the stage that we walk around to get to the doors for our entrances. There is also space far above the stage, so on Friday, I watched a stagehand move a wall offstage, hook it to some wires, and, using a remote control, lift it straight overhead to get it out of the way.

The dressing rooms are up a twisty steep staircase, stacked on top of each other, about four to a floor. Each room has a sink, mirrors, and a concrete floor plus wall insulation. You can sing in here, and no one would hear you on the stage or in the audience. There is also an intercom in every room so that we can follow the show and walk to the wings when appropriate for our entrances.

In the wings, there’s a monitor that shows what the stage looks like from the audience. There’s another monitor that shows just the conductor. About a week or so ago, someone cut out one of those long curvy 17th or 18th century wings and taped it to the conductor monitor. It’s amazing how often the conductor stepped right into the perfect position for it. Very funny. Sadly, someone removed it tonight.

The stage manager just announced Places for Act III.

~Hope