Tag Archives: 1960s
“Auditioning is the most unnatural and unrealistic job interview ever.”
Christy Yael, Producing Artistic Director for Intrepid, is quick to admit this. Having just finished two full days, approximately eleven consistent hours, of open call auditions for Intrepid’s upcoming Season Four this past weekend, she is also quick to state that she is optimistic and impressed at the skill level of those who walked through the door.
“We saw so many talented people this weekend,” she says with enthusiasm, “really talented people.”
With the company entering its fourth year, Christy is now a veteran of the rigors of the open call, an especially demanding process for both directors and actors alike. And the requirements for Intrepid’s audition were nothing short of daunting. Non-musical actors were asked for two contrasting monologues, while musical theatre auditioners were invited, in addition to performing a monologue, to sing both a selection from the 1960s as well as one from Stephen Sondheim’s repertoire, a composer traditionally regarded as one of the most complex and challenging musicians in the American songbook.
“The two required musical pieces are so drastically different,” says Christy, “that it really gives us a good idea of a person’s abilities.”
Veteran musical theatre actress Kathi Copeland was unfazed. Having performed in musicals since the age of 16, when she was cast in a pre-Broadway tour of “The Me Nobody Knows,” Kathi feels a certain comfort level with these types of requirements. Although, she admits, she would probably never recommend auditioning with a Sondheim piece unless it was specifically requested.
“Every audition is different,” says Kathi, who was attending an Intrepid open call for the first time. “It’s just important to prepare, prepare, prepare. You never know how it’s going to go once you get in there.”
There are many variables that could affect a singing audition – the pianist’s tempo, the acoustics of the space, and one’s level of nervousness, for instance. The singing voice, sometimes more vulnerable than the speaking voice, is likely to reflect all of these conditions, and therefore it is important to prepare as many things as one can control ahead of time. “Always take the time to talk to the accompanist about tempo,” advises Kathi. “Don’t forget that it’s your moment to shine.”
Veteran actor and accomplished theatre artist Tim West agrees that the same advice would apply to non-musical auditioners. “It was my first open call for monologues in a decade, so though I prepared I lacked that practiced feeling,” he says, although clarifying that it was perhaps for the best. “I’ve grown less concerned with choices per se and more concerned with trying to find the moment.”
It’s this type of attitude that Christy appreciates the most. Although she finds herself more often in the director’s chair these days, she was once attending the same sorts of open calls as an actor. “At the time, it helped me to think of it as an opportunity to do some work,” she says. “There are stakes involved, but it’s an invested audience with potential payoff.”
For her part as a director, Christy pays close attention to those auditioning, looking for specific elements in the presentations. “With the Shakespeare, it’s a combination of the acting ability and how the verse is handled,” she says, “and all that that entails. I could talk for hours about just that.”
Surprisingly, she says, she has found that many with musical theatre backgrounds were more adept at handling Shakespearean verse than their resumes might suggest. “They are both heightened forms of expression,” she says, noting that one’s ability to act through verse or through music can be both daunting and tricky.
“I just have a tremendous amount of respect for actors,” she says. “It’s hard work and it’s vulnerable work and that’s a heady combination.”
While being on the director’s side of the table is definitely preferably, Christy’s acting background also helps her create a safe space for potential auditioners. Both Kathi and Tim agreed that the process was painless. “Christy was one of the most gracious auditors I’ve ever performed for,” says Tim. “It’s such a difficult thing, to make people feel warmly welcomed while maintaining professional decorum. I am glad I chose this audition to return to the practice. I’ll try never to miss an opportunity at Intrepid.”
Christy maintains that the excitement of finding new talent keeps her consistently invested throughout the audition process. “The thing that maybe people don’t realize is how optimistic we are going into auditions,” she explains. “We have high hopes and expectations that everyone is going to be fantastic and incredibly talented. We are not looking for what’s wrong – we are looking for what’s right.” — T.T.
“…Swift as a shadow, short as any dream; brief as the lightning in the collied night…” (I.i)
Closing weekend descends upon us, and we are stunned that we are preparing to sing our last “So Happy Together!” Even though this production has moved swiftly though performance phase, we are so thrilled to have pulled off our Shakespearean musical motif with flair and sh’boom. But before we start patting ourselves on our own creative backs, we thought it might be a good idea to take a journey down a Shakespeare-inspired lane. Maybe these previous concoctions of Midsummer and music need a nod from our 60s set list as well.
Shakespeare penned MND in the 1590s and included some fairy lyrics for his flighty characters. But how long would it be before the idea of a full-fledged musical would enter the picture?
Meet Henry Purcell and his 1692 semi-opera, The Fairy Queen, which kept most of Bill’s original text but infused the play with masques to illuminate its themes of love and marriage, including one featuring the Greek goddess Hymen. Shockingly, it was widely misunderstood by Restoration Era audiences.
Unshockingly, David Garrick also had to have his operatic Midsummer say. His opera, entitled The Fairies, premiered in 1755 and featured only the storylines of the forest (sorry, Mechanicals!). All singing, all the time, there were 28 added airs, duets, and choruses in addition to the recitatively-crooned dialogue. Reception was mixed, but a publication called The Tuner deemed it “a laudable attempt to encourage native musical Productions.” (Future musical productions thank you for the vote of confidence!)
Moving forward…some midsummer trivia! Did you know that Felix Mendelssohn’s famous “Wedding March” was written in 1842 as incidental music for a German production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream? Writing the music to accompany this play actually spanned the composer’s entire lifetime, as he was 17 years old when he penned the overture and then completed the score a few years before his death.
Over the years, Mendelssohn’s music has also been choreographed into ballet by masters like Marius Petipa, George Balanchine, and Frederick Ashton.
Of course, in modern times, there have been a slew of looser adaptations which have woven music through the storyline of this play. Recently, the off-Broadway hit, The Donkey Show, featured the basic storyline set to 70s-era disco music, dance club style.
Which brings us to our own little corner of the Shakespearean musical anthology – an intermingling of nostalgia and poetry that has been tugging heartstrings and garnering smiles of familiarity since our opening two weekends ago. And it’s no wonder – when the cast sings about fairy tale love on summer nights in between their soliloquies and witty banter, the flow is so seamless, it’s hard to believe that infusing Midsummer with music isn’t what Shakespeare had intended all along. After all, wasn’t he the first to point out that “life could be a dream”? — T.T.
The opening night of A Midsummer Night’s Dream: the Musical is at last upon us.
Despite months of casting and development, weeks of rehearsal, and days of previews, it is tonight’s performance has been circled on everyone’s calendar from the very beginning. That’s definitely enough to make theatre people a little nervous. But, it might make them a little superstitious as well.
Well-known are the traditional superstitions of the theatre that date back to Shakespeare’s day and before. For instance, it is bad luck to whistle in the theatre, mostly because in the past whistling was used to communicate between the sailors who were hired to run the ropes and flies from the catwalks during a show. A misplaced whistle could be a dangerous thing. And of course, most people know never to say the real name of Shakespeare’s “Scottish play” in a theatre; however, if you ask any actors what the “cure” for this misstep is, you will get a different answer each time: “Turn in a circle three times, throw salt over your shoulder, go outside and curse. Or is it run around the theatre three times? Wait, do you throw the salt over your right or left shoulder?” And, yes, it’s true that everyone says “break a leg” instead of “good luck” before a show.
Given the superstitious nature of this environment, we thought it might be fun to see how some of our actors approach opening night, or any of the regularly superstitious habits they practice to through the run of the show. As we are also doing a play about magic and mystery, it seemed only fitting that we find out about the magic that takes place offstage as well.
At first glance, most of the company denied having any opening night traditions or habits at all. However, eventually some ritualistic practices did emerge. And, one thing is very clear – every actor has very specific feelings about opening night.
“It’s like a roller coaster,” says Eddie Yaroch (Peter Quince). “There is this terrific tension, like you are clacking up the metal chain that leads to your first line on stage. Once that first line is said, everything lets go and the show runs itself.” Traditionally, Eddie will repeat his first line to himself over and over again as he’s getting ready to go on, anticipating that moment.
Tom Stephenson (Bottom) agrees. “It’s like being the groom at a wedding. Excitement and terror before you go on, then lots of fun after you’re on stage.”
They both decided that opening night audiences were the best: “It’s opening night – the crowd cheers for you.”
Other actors focus more on their preparation for their roles to shake the performance nerves. Rin Ehlers (Helena) takes a walk through her blocking upon arrival at the theatre to solidify her character’s journey in her mind. Savvy Scopelleti (Snout) tunes into the perspective of her character – an immigrant needing to belong – by repeating a handful of key phrases to herself in her Russian accent during the hours before going onstage.
There is also something to be said for camaraderie among cast members. Especially on opening or closing night, Lauren King (Hermia) feels it’s important to acknowledge the company’s journey and usually tries to make little gifts or write little notes for her castmates. “The first professional show I ever did, someone did that for me,” Lauren says. “I’ve never forgotten that.”
Brian Mackey (Demetrius) and Kevin Koppman-Gue (Lysander) share similar approaches to dealing with their opening night nerves. “I like to be social and joke around with everyone until the second before I step onstage,” says Kevin. “The more I’m in my head about the show, the more chance there is for me to flub up.” Brian also tries to avoid the nervousness that infiltrates the dressing rooms as showtime nears. “People are pacing,” he says. “I read Sports Illustrated.”
“There’ s something special about opening night,” says Taylor Peckham (Puck/Musical Director). “I like to get dressed up and celebrate it.”
We couldn’t agree more, Taylor. Here’s to an auspiciously amazing opening night. Break a leg!!
Dateline: Rehearsal. Wednesday, August 29, 745 pm
‘Twas the night before previews
And in the Clayton E. Liggett
Were just the sounds of fine-tuning
And a director shouting, “I dig it!”
The rope swings were hung
From the stage grid with care
In hopes that “knot spacing”
Was finally secure.
Patrick was tucked
In the sound booth and gave
Life to the piano
When Taylor would wave.
And what was there left
on the list to complete?
Sharon just smiles and says,
“I can’t feel my feet.”
The actors run round
In costumes and curls
Rehearsing their harmonic
It was nigh around eight
When the last rehearsal began
The bower finally hung
As the actors filed in.
The company’s final attempt
To make everything right
Knowing tomorrow’s first preview
Would be a memorable night.
Once a show opens to the public, it is every theatre company’s hope that the performances seem effortless and smooth. However, the road to awesome is paved with…well, technical rehearsals. A Midsummer Night’s Dream: the Musical, has been fairy-wing-deep in tech rehearsals all weekend as we prepare for our first preview on August 30. For the non-thespian crowd, tech days are the very last of the rehearsals – the ones right before the first preview and right after the actors have completely finished setting their movement on the stage. During these final days, the lighting cues, sound cues, and any other technical elements of the show are layered in. These rehearsals are typically lengthier than any others, as it takes time to – not only decide what works best for each and every moment of the play – but also to actually make each and every moment happen.
Basically, it looks like this: actors waiting around to take their places on stage for particular scenes, production crew members randomly popping out of lighting grids, sound cues filtering through the speaker system at odd times during the three or four or eight hours in the theatre that day. The stage is always dark, except for the lekos and fresnels blinking through programmed cues. The stage is also quiet, so those who need to convey information to the directors or stage manager from all corners of the theatre can do so efficiently. The actors give way to the production team, who are coloring and creating the world in which they all will be living for the next four weekends.
To give a real behind-the-scenes glimpse into a technical rehearsal, though, there is only one person you need to talk to: the stage manager, aka the boss of the show once it opens. We caught up with Sharon Strich, Intrepid’s resident stage manager, and asked her to give us her moment to moment schedule from one day in her life on this technical rehearsal weekend. She obliged with one caveat: “This post might scare people.” How crazy can one day of rehearsal be? Well, for one thing, we forgot she had other things to do – like a day job.
Hold onto your seats, folks. – T.T.
A Day in the Life, by Sharon Strich – Saturday August 25, 2012
1:30am (yes, you read that right) – Wake up to do pre-rehearsal work on script and other paperwork.
4:00am – Leave for work at Starbucks.
9:20am – Finish work at Starbucks. Head to the theatre with really strong caffeine in hand.
9:45am – Set up the theatre for tech rehearsal, including my tech table, where I will live for the next few days.
10:00am – Tech rehearsal officially starts.
10:38am – Mic fittings, check fairy sound cues, organize company.
11:30am – Begin cue to cue lighting and sound rehearsal starting with Act II, scene i.
12:33pm – Break. Place glow tape on the set so the actors don’t kill themselves in the dark.
12:44pm – Continue cue to cue rehearsal, starting with Act II, scene i.
2:08pm – Break. Safety walk with John (Oberon) through his path to the catwalk during Act II, scene ii. Treacherous.
2:24pm – Continue cue to cue rehearsal, starting with Act II, scene ii.
3:21pm – Break. Check progress of the set in the shop. Coming along nicely!
3:27pm – Continue cue to cue rehearsal of Act II, scene ii.
3:54pm – Costume time!
5:00pm – Dinner break. Run for Starbucks, altoids, and chocolate; eat a sandwich for “dinner”; prep the ropes that will be moved later; talk through lighting cues with Curtis (lighting designer); talk about Puck’s pants with Christy (co-director) and Beth (costumer).
6:20pm – Continue cue to cue rehearsal, starting with Act III, scene i.
7:39pm – Break. Talk through more lighting cues with Curtis.
7:51pm – Continue cue to cue rehearsal, starting with Act III, scene ii.
9:04pm – Break. Work lighting looks for the chase sequence. Very cool.
9:18pm – Continue cue to cue, starting with Act IV, scene i.
9:46pm – Actors released. Scenic work begins with awesome members of the crew.
9:50pm – Work through lighting shifts for the chase. Magical!
10:15pm – Re-hang two upstage ropes, discuss the plan and pick a paint color for Titania’s bower, paint the wood on the ladders and the Puck nest, cover the stairs in fabric and jute, paint the ﬂoor, start to dress the Puck nest, realize we need more jute for Puck nest, hang the front curtain.
2:30am – End of day. Head home.
3:15am – Once home, write rehearsal report and send to production staff, send any necessary production related e-mails, work on paperwork.
4:00am – Find my pillow before I hit the floor, pretty sure I will hit the snooze button when my alarm goes off in two hours.
“This is not 42nd Street.” Colleen Kollar Smith is very definitive when she clarifies her approach to choreographing A Midsummer Night’s Dream: The Musical, which opens for previews August 30. Rather than layering on the expectations of a traditional musical theatre piece onto the words, Colleen has found that the words of Shakespeare have actually guided her hand. Or rather, her feet.”The process has been remarkably organic,” she says, as we sit down during a rehearsal break amongst the sounds of set construction and strains of sopranos reviewing their descants. “The movement is already built in and all we have to decide is how it supports the story and how to move in and out of the songs in a natural way.”
Tonight, they will attempt a stumble through of Act I, which involves quite a few tunes and dance numbers. The songs involved are taken from the 1960s, an era that Colleen associates with singing along to the music that her mother used to play in the car. Even if you think you aren’t familiar with the tunes of that era, she assures, you will be finishing the lines of the songs along with the actors on stage.
“Somewhere inside of you, you will recognize the music and say, ‘Yes, that speaks to my history,'” she says with a slight touch of nostalgia.
Even though she is four months pregnant, Colleen is intensely interactive with the cast – not only with their dance numbers, but also in the blocking of the scenes. Both she and co-director Christy Yael are quick to stand and direct the actors as they work out their actions and movements. Tonight, a new apparatus – the introduction of the rope swing into Hermia and Helena’s quarreling – has been the subject of much decision-making.
While Colleen has choreographed for Intrepid before (Season Two’s Romeo and Juliet), this is her first directing gig for the company. She doesn’t seem to mind wearing two hats for this production: decisions about what serves the play and how to interpret Shakespeare’s text span any gulf there may be between her two roles. “It’s all about what puts the text at the forefront,” she says.
Colleen is quick to give accolades to the cast, and cites the casting process as the most challenging part of putting together the show so far – more than organizing any big dance numbers. “We took a lot of time casting,” she says, explaining that actors were needed who could not only carry the Shakespearean text, but also the singing and dancing requirements of this production. “I think even if audiences know these actors, they will be surprised by what they will be doing in this show,” she says with anticipation. “We really do have the best cast.”
Colleen is still blown away by how smoothly the process of incorporating dance movement into A Midsummer Night’s Dream has been and believes it really does speak to the universality of the Bard. “It just works,” she says. “It also makes the production approachable, for those who might be intimidated by the thought of seeing Shakespeare play.”
Colleen plans to bring her own four-year-old daughter to a performance, and is perhaps looking forward to recreating some of those “magic moments” she had with her mother while singing and moving to the sounds of the 1960s. She is hoping that, after immersing themselves in this two-hours’ traffic of groove-able tunes, audiences leave with a similar urge to dance it out as well.
As Intrepid embarks on its first musical spectacular, and we find ourselves analyzing the text of the Bard against a backdrop of doo-wop and dance steps, we also find ourselves again in amazement at one of the things we love most about WS – that is, the unique ability of this playwright’s anthology to be interpreted in a variety of time periods, settings, and, apparently, musical scores. The fact that we spent this week rehearsing “Sh’Boom” with the Mechanicals in a way that totally makes sense, is really kind of cool.
So, if the story of A Midsummer Night’s Dream can be told in a variety of ways, we were also curious as to how the actual idea of “midsummer” came to be in the first place, and why does it work so well in three-part harmony? We decided to do a little digging.
First, the Online Entymology Dictionary tells us that the word is derived from “midsumor,” meaning, well, the middle of summer. So, yeah, that was a shocker. We decided to dig a little deeper.
According to the Farmer’s Almanac:
June 21 marks the Summer Solstice, the day of the year when the sun reaches the Tropic of Cancer, its highest point in the Northern Hemisphere. The summer solstice is also the longest day of the year for those of us living north of the Equator.
Modern calendars refer to this day as the first day of summer, though ancient reckoning actually viewed May 1 as the beginning of summer, and the Solstice as “Midsummer,” the halfway point of the season. Because the Solstice marks not only the Sun’s greatest potency, but also the turning point at which the length of days begins to wane, this older viewpoint does make sense.
So, the “beginning” of summer on our modern calendars is actually the middle of the season. Well, whaddya know? Fortunately, modern Scandinavians are well aware of this fact, holding days-long midsummer celebrations to honor the eternal sunlight of their northern locale.
The Summer Solstice itself has always held significance for ancient religions and cultures, and can be tied historically to earth-related occurrences, such as the possible meaning behind the creation of Stonehenge and the Egyptian calendars which begin by marking the annual rising of the Nile. In fact, celebrations of the solstice are still held throughout the world that stem from these types of events and traditions.
Historically, the church recognized these pagan celebrations of the Summer Solstice by choosing June 24 as the feast day of St. John the Baptist. In Ireland, this midsummer feast day is also known as a bonfire night (not to be confused with Guy Fawkes Day – also “Bonfire Night” in the UK), which pre-Christianity, was actually celebrated to honor Aine, the Celtic goddess of love and fertility with feasting, singing, and dancing around – you guessed it – bonfires.
In the old days, the ashes of the fires were then mixed with the seeds that would be soon be planted in order to bring good luck to the harvest. At this time, young couples would also perform what was called a “handfast,” where they would wind a ribbon around their wrists as a sign of binding, and then hope to be expecting their own, er, seedling, come the fall. The woman would then wear the ribbon as a symbol of their union.
Interestingly enough, midsummer celebrations in Ireland are still greatly associated with…fairy activity! (Hmm, we are sensing a connection here!) In short, it’s no wonder that Shakespeare chose this historic and celebratory time of year to give his tale of love and dreaming a little magical color. Oh, and if you are in the mood to celebrate and find yourself dancing around a midsummer bonfire one day, here’s a tip: Wishes will be granted when you whisper them into a small stone and cast it into the fire…whether or not the fairies are involved, though, is anyone’s guess. – T.T.