Thanks, B!
Friday, January 13, 2012
A Work of Art
I’m pretty sure I’ve mentioned before that we paint at the end of the show. Well the other night one of my colleagues did a painting of me! Seeing as it’s awesome, I thought I’d share.
Thanks, B!
Thanks, B!
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Trampol-aaaaaaarrgh!
The last act of the show is a group trampoline-wall act. It’s not the most technical of numbers by any stretch of the imagination, but it’s high energy with lots of different things happening all over the place, and really, it’s just a lot of fun. It’s a great way to end a show.
It’s also a great vehicle for hilarity.
Yup, there’s no greater combination for comedy than an object that will fling you into the void with no mercy, and the unyielding eyes of all your colleagues upon you.
One night, I barely managed to pull off this rinky-dink figure that I do at the very beginning of the act. I swear, if my arms weren’t as strong as they are, there’s no way I would have made it back to the wall. M thought my failed attempt at full turn to sit was hilarious and, hidden behind the wall, laughed his ass off. Fortunately, karma was on my side and he damn near bit the dust after flailing through his solo a little later on.
But that’s nothing. The past two nights have offered some quality falls.
First there was H. There’s a moment in the act where he purposely falls off the trampoline. He actually executes it brilliantly; it’s a wonderful fall that covers at least three metres. But that night, something was amiss. I think he actually got caught on the padding over the springs and basically, he just dropped to the floor like a stone. It should be noted that at this moment, the entire troupe is watching him. The six of us acrobats started laughing and could not stop for the remainder of the number. A, who actually disappears into a hole just after H falls, could be heard laughing from wherever the hell it is he lands. It was awesome.
But it gets even better!
The very next night, A took a spill. I know I shouldn’t take pleasure in other people’s mistakes (look at what happened to M), but when you see someone falling, and you can see that they’re very much aware of what’s going on spatially, and you can tell they’re going to be okay, you really can’t help it.
Well A’s fall was just that kind. Not only that, it happened in multiple stages so it was almost like watching it in slow motion.
It all seemed to go to hell when he tried to do the cat twist. Normally he does a double but he was off and singled out. It looked like one of those situations where you know you gave too much so, mid-move and mid-air, you stop doing anything at all and just wait for the botched attempt at the skill to be over. Fine. No problem. Happens all the time.
Except for whatever reason, when he landed in the bed, he got turned around in the bounce back up. Then, inexplicably, he ended up underneath the padding with his head in the springs. He was then unceremoniously ejected from the trampoline and landed on the stage with a loud thud.
The audience applauded heartily.
It’s also a great vehicle for hilarity.
Yup, there’s no greater combination for comedy than an object that will fling you into the void with no mercy, and the unyielding eyes of all your colleagues upon you.
One night, I barely managed to pull off this rinky-dink figure that I do at the very beginning of the act. I swear, if my arms weren’t as strong as they are, there’s no way I would have made it back to the wall. M thought my failed attempt at full turn to sit was hilarious and, hidden behind the wall, laughed his ass off. Fortunately, karma was on my side and he damn near bit the dust after flailing through his solo a little later on.
But that’s nothing. The past two nights have offered some quality falls.
First there was H. There’s a moment in the act where he purposely falls off the trampoline. He actually executes it brilliantly; it’s a wonderful fall that covers at least three metres. But that night, something was amiss. I think he actually got caught on the padding over the springs and basically, he just dropped to the floor like a stone. It should be noted that at this moment, the entire troupe is watching him. The six of us acrobats started laughing and could not stop for the remainder of the number. A, who actually disappears into a hole just after H falls, could be heard laughing from wherever the hell it is he lands. It was awesome.
But it gets even better!
The very next night, A took a spill. I know I shouldn’t take pleasure in other people’s mistakes (look at what happened to M), but when you see someone falling, and you can see that they’re very much aware of what’s going on spatially, and you can tell they’re going to be okay, you really can’t help it.
Well A’s fall was just that kind. Not only that, it happened in multiple stages so it was almost like watching it in slow motion.
It all seemed to go to hell when he tried to do the cat twist. Normally he does a double but he was off and singled out. It looked like one of those situations where you know you gave too much so, mid-move and mid-air, you stop doing anything at all and just wait for the botched attempt at the skill to be over. Fine. No problem. Happens all the time.
Except for whatever reason, when he landed in the bed, he got turned around in the bounce back up. Then, inexplicably, he ended up underneath the padding with his head in the springs. He was then unceremoniously ejected from the trampoline and landed on the stage with a loud thud.
The audience applauded heartily.
Monday, January 9, 2012
Joke’s On You!
There are a number of practical jokers in the troupe, so it’s not at all uncommon to find yourself in the middle of some strange war or other. For example, the two clowns seem to be going through a phase where they place each other’s belongings in trees. Camping chairs, bicycles, and such like…
Well, one Sunday matinee where the levels of concentration were particularly low, A bested everyone. He managed to pull a doozy on… himself.
We were getting into position for his number. At this time, I cross paths with the bass player. Normally he makes some silly face or weird noise to try and make D and I laugh. But this time, he made awkward hand gestures and a big sad frowny face.
Uncomprehending, I turned to face centre stage when I saw A with a face like a deer in the headlights. He was holing the bass player’s bow in his hands and it was quickly dawning on him that his really awesome joke might not be so awesome after all.
Incredulous, I stared at him unsure how to proceed. I know I’ve mentioned in the past that I actually love a little bit of on stage drama, and this kind of situation was right up my alley. His act involves a lot of personal torment (don’t ask) and there’s a lot of maniacal swinging involved, so the bow was definitely in danger. Plus, L kind of needed the thing to play the music properly.
A’s first instinct was to place the bow in the middle of the stage. Not the best choice, if you ask me. Then he considered trying to slide it over the few meters it needed to travel in order to get to where the bassist was standing. Seeing as a bow isn’t the heartiest of objects, it’s a good thing A quickly thought better of that attempt.
In the meantime, I kept mouthing to D that I was going to get it. I didn’t know how and I didn’t know when, but I was going to get it. Finally, a moment presented itself, and in act that I can only hope made sense theatrically, I retrieved the bow.
Of course now I was brandishing the bow like an idiot with a sword. Plus, it still had to find it’s way to the bassist’s hands. And for the life of me, I couldn’t remember at what point the bow was needed for the music, so it had to happen fast. With some more quick thinking and what I thought was some pretty smooth moves, I got the bow to L.
L’s reaction to the whole thing was something along the lines of “Whatever, man. It’s his own music that he’s screwing up. Not my problem.”
A, on the other hand, staggered into the next scene in a daze muttering something about being fired…
Well, one Sunday matinee where the levels of concentration were particularly low, A bested everyone. He managed to pull a doozy on… himself.
We were getting into position for his number. At this time, I cross paths with the bass player. Normally he makes some silly face or weird noise to try and make D and I laugh. But this time, he made awkward hand gestures and a big sad frowny face.
Uncomprehending, I turned to face centre stage when I saw A with a face like a deer in the headlights. He was holing the bass player’s bow in his hands and it was quickly dawning on him that his really awesome joke might not be so awesome after all.
Incredulous, I stared at him unsure how to proceed. I know I’ve mentioned in the past that I actually love a little bit of on stage drama, and this kind of situation was right up my alley. His act involves a lot of personal torment (don’t ask) and there’s a lot of maniacal swinging involved, so the bow was definitely in danger. Plus, L kind of needed the thing to play the music properly.
A’s first instinct was to place the bow in the middle of the stage. Not the best choice, if you ask me. Then he considered trying to slide it over the few meters it needed to travel in order to get to where the bassist was standing. Seeing as a bow isn’t the heartiest of objects, it’s a good thing A quickly thought better of that attempt.
In the meantime, I kept mouthing to D that I was going to get it. I didn’t know how and I didn’t know when, but I was going to get it. Finally, a moment presented itself, and in act that I can only hope made sense theatrically, I retrieved the bow.
Of course now I was brandishing the bow like an idiot with a sword. Plus, it still had to find it’s way to the bassist’s hands. And for the life of me, I couldn’t remember at what point the bow was needed for the music, so it had to happen fast. With some more quick thinking and what I thought was some pretty smooth moves, I got the bow to L.
L’s reaction to the whole thing was something along the lines of “Whatever, man. It’s his own music that he’s screwing up. Not my problem.”
A, on the other hand, staggered into the next scene in a daze muttering something about being fired…
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
Oh Right, That
As I’ve mentioned, N will soon be taking a leave of absence for medical reasons, as well as the birth of his baby. His replacement, who conveniently shares the same first name, has just arrived to get into show shape.
It should be noted that N the second will be taking N the first’s place in the show in one week. For the most part, N the second will only be replacing N the first as a musician. With one or two exceptions, most of the major character moments have been distributed to other cast members. There are, mind you, all the back stage cues and manipulations to learn, the order of the show, and of course, the pesky little detail of his costume.
Our N and his replacement have completely different body types. N the second tried wearing N the first’s costume today and wow… I mean… poor guy. It doesn’t suit him at all, which can be overlooked for a run of six shows. But the sleeves of the jacket are much too short for him, and the pants not only make him look like he’s wearing a diaper, but they keep falling off of him.
Of course no one thought to check out the costume situation when N the second was here a month ago. Today the director, in his infuriating way, just stated matter-of-factually that the costume designer would have to be contacted. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to learn that she has one week to make a costume for a man who was hired well over a month ago. So what if she’s never even laid eyes on him?
Considering the number of replacements we’ve had on this show, you’d think there’d be enough random bits of costume kicking around to cobble something together. I’m not entirely sure if I’m joking or not…
Sigh…
UPDATE! Turns out he would not have a costume made for him. N wore a pair of his own pants. But he did get a bow tie so, you know. Bow tie.
It should be noted that N the second will be taking N the first’s place in the show in one week. For the most part, N the second will only be replacing N the first as a musician. With one or two exceptions, most of the major character moments have been distributed to other cast members. There are, mind you, all the back stage cues and manipulations to learn, the order of the show, and of course, the pesky little detail of his costume.
Our N and his replacement have completely different body types. N the second tried wearing N the first’s costume today and wow… I mean… poor guy. It doesn’t suit him at all, which can be overlooked for a run of six shows. But the sleeves of the jacket are much too short for him, and the pants not only make him look like he’s wearing a diaper, but they keep falling off of him.
Of course no one thought to check out the costume situation when N the second was here a month ago. Today the director, in his infuriating way, just stated matter-of-factually that the costume designer would have to be contacted. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to learn that she has one week to make a costume for a man who was hired well over a month ago. So what if she’s never even laid eyes on him?
Considering the number of replacements we’ve had on this show, you’d think there’d be enough random bits of costume kicking around to cobble something together. I’m not entirely sure if I’m joking or not…
Sigh…
UPDATE! Turns out he would not have a costume made for him. N wore a pair of his own pants. But he did get a bow tie so, you know. Bow tie.
Monday, January 2, 2012
Another Year Already
Oddly enough, tomorrow the cast that will be staying on will begin a period of research for the new show. It's so nice when meaningful dates come together and kick you in the teeth a little bit.
Happy Anniversary, Career...
Sunday, January 1, 2012
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