united & divided
Hullo all you cats out there in blag land.
It's been awhile.
I was just flipping through my first year journal and getting a little sad that I don't seem to write much, anywhere, anymore.
The truth is, I thought that my post Nei-Play days would slow down a tad, and give me time for mass reflection. But it seems on "Red Doors Close Forever" day, everything just sped the fuck up.
We're less than a month away from Hair's opening night. I know this is supposedly my director blog, and I should have been keeping up with all of the exciting crazy news. But it seems that the HAIR universe is hard to blog about - the business side of it is super businessy and swarming with politics (funny, for a show about hippies, to have all kinds of politics), and the artistic side of it seems to be finding its' way. However with a (radiantly gorgeous talented and ridiculously cool) cast of 21 people, sometimes I feel like I need to pull a director stereotype, and get myself a chair, a hat, and a bullhorn. Then start shouting:
"YEAH! CHRISSY! TAKE A HARDER DRAG OFF THAT JOINT!"
"BERGER! DON'T JUST MIME HUMPING HER! REALLY DO THAT!"
Et cetera.
But on the real, folks, running a theatre company is some tough stuff. As I poured my philosophical soul out to someone at a Starbucks today, I got into talking about why I do what I do. About how anyone who gets to do theatre is SO fucking lucky. We are smiled upon by the Gods, man. To get up in the morning and go the theatre to play? Even to go to the bank and do banking for my theatre company is a privilege. I am a blessed human being to be in this industry, no matter how much hell it puts me through.
I am trying to think about these sorts of things as I strap on the ol' boxing gloves to go out there every afternoon. At every corner, there are little monsters, hiding out and waiting to take you out of the race. No one wants to shell out money to a fledgling theatre company. I can't yell at my musical director for missing rehearsal because he had to take care of his sick four-year-old brother. I can't get angry with my unpaid cast for missing rehearsals so they can work and make rent. Every step of this process, there's little kinks and quirks, and I can't iron them out, I am powerless against them. Sometimes when I get into the studio, I'm amazed I have a creative bone left in my body, because I've spent the day trying to be a producer, a director, a company manager, a promoter, a financial director and a designer all at once. My phone bill is through the fucking roof, and I can't take a regular job, because this show can't happen if I go to work.
Wow. I didn't think I was going to let myself talk about all that.
But the upshot of it is, it's all happening. Really happening.
And the people who are in and around this show are just incredible.
Incredible.
And I love them.
I am so fucking lucky.
It's been awhile.
I was just flipping through my first year journal and getting a little sad that I don't seem to write much, anywhere, anymore.
The truth is, I thought that my post Nei-Play days would slow down a tad, and give me time for mass reflection. But it seems on "Red Doors Close Forever" day, everything just sped the fuck up.
We're less than a month away from Hair's opening night. I know this is supposedly my director blog, and I should have been keeping up with all of the exciting crazy news. But it seems that the HAIR universe is hard to blog about - the business side of it is super businessy and swarming with politics (funny, for a show about hippies, to have all kinds of politics), and the artistic side of it seems to be finding its' way. However with a (radiantly gorgeous talented and ridiculously cool) cast of 21 people, sometimes I feel like I need to pull a director stereotype, and get myself a chair, a hat, and a bullhorn. Then start shouting:
"YEAH! CHRISSY! TAKE A HARDER DRAG OFF THAT JOINT!"
"BERGER! DON'T JUST MIME HUMPING HER! REALLY DO THAT!"
Et cetera.
But on the real, folks, running a theatre company is some tough stuff. As I poured my philosophical soul out to someone at a Starbucks today, I got into talking about why I do what I do. About how anyone who gets to do theatre is SO fucking lucky. We are smiled upon by the Gods, man. To get up in the morning and go the theatre to play? Even to go to the bank and do banking for my theatre company is a privilege. I am a blessed human being to be in this industry, no matter how much hell it puts me through.
I am trying to think about these sorts of things as I strap on the ol' boxing gloves to go out there every afternoon. At every corner, there are little monsters, hiding out and waiting to take you out of the race. No one wants to shell out money to a fledgling theatre company. I can't yell at my musical director for missing rehearsal because he had to take care of his sick four-year-old brother. I can't get angry with my unpaid cast for missing rehearsals so they can work and make rent. Every step of this process, there's little kinks and quirks, and I can't iron them out, I am powerless against them. Sometimes when I get into the studio, I'm amazed I have a creative bone left in my body, because I've spent the day trying to be a producer, a director, a company manager, a promoter, a financial director and a designer all at once. My phone bill is through the fucking roof, and I can't take a regular job, because this show can't happen if I go to work.
Wow. I didn't think I was going to let myself talk about all that.
But the upshot of it is, it's all happening. Really happening.
And the people who are in and around this show are just incredible.
Incredible.
And I love them.
I am so fucking lucky.
posted by Maggie Moon at
9:53 PM
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