20 February 2010
270
R. Linda:
When I lived back in Ireland, I was subject to the annual Christmas pageants as a child. I think because of me moniker I was always selected to play the angel. The first time, I was 4 years of age and flatly refused. I had some kind of hissy fit and ended up playing the triangle in the children's orchestra and that would have suited yours truly fine, but for the child selected in me place, walked by me dressed in a lovely cream robe with WINGS. Okay, they weren't the feathered wings like you see today, they were made of paper, glue and glitter, but oh begorrah they were a fine set of wings they were, forget the garland halo, it was the wings that took me over. I had to be the angel NEXT yule time, come hell or high water.
I made me a fuss of those damn wings so next season sure enough yours truly was marched out and fitted with the very same wings and out I went harking the Lord's coming and such that I was a very proud tyke I was. So this I did for a few years until I outgrew the wings and in time, as the rest of me classmates awakened to life, was made all manner of fun for the wearing of THE wings. So I rested me career as an angel of Christmas pageants at the ripe age of 7.
There were school plays and such and I wasn't in the least interested until me last year of forms when one of me teachers thought I would make a very fine Petruchio in Taming of the Shrew. I didn't agree at all, and Shakespeare? Oh begorrah me, the language of the Bard was just too far over me skinny head to comprehend let alone act it out! No, I said but somehow me sainted mother caught wind of this offer to local stardom and quicker than you can say, "That leprechaun has taken off with me pot of gold!" I found meself cast in the role I did! But I had a condition that I would only do the play if me Da would too!
A little background here, I need to give you a wee bit about our director's vision. Barry Donovan, being a self-styled progressive sort, wanted to mix modern-day dress with Elizabethan and I will say the result was an interesting mix of strange. Katrina ran around in a hoop skirt without the benefit of material, so you could see right through it and she wore thigh boots and a laced-up velvet vest over a longish peasant blouse. Bianca wore ankle socks under high heels and mini puffy dresses with big shoulders. Lucky me had on a pair of black and white striped pirate trousers, cut in ribbons at the knees, white tube socks with high-top sneakers and a leather shirt with skulls imprinted on it. So we were considering our play "progressive" if not outlandish. To make this more fun, it was thought to add the character of Christopher Sly to the mix as a person sitting in the audience drinking and quite drunk, to be brought up onstage and "entertained" by a troupe of travelling actors . . . us.
On knowing this at the start, I said the only way I would play Petruchio was if me sainted Da would take the role of Sly since there were no lines but a few and he'd be onstage the whole time seated in a throne-like chair, drinking (cold tea) and pretending to be inebriated. Donovan wanted an unknown older gent for this role. I knew just the gent I did. Well, with much cajoling from me sainted Mam, me Da decided to give it a go. He always was a sport, so I felt kind of relieved I'd have another member of the family up there making a fool out of themselves along with me.
Well, as it happened, the rehearsals were filled with much silliness. None of us understood our roles, but slightly, however, the more we overacted the better the director thought we did.
"Just keep doin' that dare Gabriel, it works it duz!" Director Donovan would shout from the audience, where he sat with a few of his theatre minions watching us run through the blocking and lines.
And so I'd swagger around onstage and get through most of me part until I had to name off animals I would be giving Katrina's father for her hand, only I could never remember them! But I wasn't the only one, the character of Gremio, me classmate Brian Mulligan's part, seemed to allude to him as well. All and all, rehearsals were great fun then came opening night.
I arrived at the appointed hour to find Director Donovan having a ripping fit over something our leading lady said. Turned out she mentioned the name Macbeth in the theatre! Saints preserve us all, but any actor of Shakespearean plays knows the mere mention of THAT name inside a theatre is certain to bring bad luck upon all. It is usually referred to as "The Scottish Play" for that very reason. A little history lesson for you if not familiar with this "curse" of Macbeth. The story goes that Shakespeare got hold of a magical ritual used by real witches of his time and threw in the actual wording in his scene where three witches are stirring a cauldron in the opening of Macbeth. So enraged by this, the real witches (who took this as an outright insult to their craft) cursed the play in that bad things would befall the production each time it was played out.
In the theatre annals, one can look up all the deaths, accidents, and bizarre things that have happened throughout the ages when Macbeth is performed (starting with the very first time). However, for us, back to me tale. All that was actually said by Miss Marion Cunningham was that SHE would love to play the role of Lady Macbeth next. Ah yes, it was said inside the theatre and so she was made to exit the place, spin around three times, then utter a few curses, ask permission to reenter and so this was all done to dispel said curse. Yup, it was.
Shortly after this, Miss Marion who was playing the role of Kate (the shrew) had an "uh oh" moment. Her opening costume was missing! Our customers threw something together quickly as the rest of us ripped apart the backstage area looking for the missing costume which was never found! Ah, the curse had materialised and right on the very person who uttered the dreaded words!
The opening began and we did pretty well, our nerves dissolving as we got into the play itself. The audience was appreciative and seemed to laugh in all the right places and we were doing well until Gremio had a small bit of dialogue which went out of his head. We stood facing each other, me mind a total blank as well, when suddenly he made a great show of pushing back his sleeve and placing his hand on me shoulder, then looking at the inside of his arm as if in great thought. He bloody proceeded to READ his lines off his inner arm which he had penned in case of such an emergency! The audience and director never knew, but me eyes were bugging out of me head and this threw yours truly into flux as well. I had to list all those fowls and such and I ended up listing an entire barnyard of chickens, turkeys, cows . . . you name it, if it was to be found in a barnyard, I spouted it off.
A few of me fellow actors stood there gaping at yours truly who pulled it off with a smug look at the end of it, as if there was not a word out of order. They picked their lines up within seconds but I have to tell you, me heart had been pounding in me ears the whole recital and I was dripping sweat from being so bloody blank of me lines. I got over those jitters but had another heart-racing moment when I had to manhandle the shrewish Katrina and as I be saying me lines, she was supposed to move back and begin a mini striptease of sorts. That was put in by the director that she should turn the tables on her suitor by mock enticing. She'd be slowly unbuttoning her bodice as I would spout off at her, and as she was doing this me lines once again took flight and she was near undressed by the time I remembered them and her cue line came up. Talk about a pissed-off actress, when we were backstage for scene change she hit me over the head with the theatre mascot (a rubber chicken named Stretch) until the costumer came over and took it from her. It wasn't like I did it on purpose! I truly forgot me lines and this be opening night, stuff like that was bound to happen. Sigh.
That very same rubber chicken had been thrown on a platter with a long stalk of celery in its mouth and brought out for a feast scene. It was Katrina's turn to have a hissy and she grabbed the tray and was supposed to dump it on the floor, but she got into her role and heaved it across the stage, in which the celery came sliding out of the chicken's mouth and into the audience. Someone in the front row said loud enough for everyone to hear, "Ew the chicken barfed!" Without a beat, he heaved the celery back on stage hitting Gremio in the face. It took a moment to gather our wits and carry on and for the audience's laughter to subside. This was not the end of audience participation, oh no it wasn't.
Within seconds, a group of dancers came onstage to make the feast more festive when the stage right section, Row A (the entire row), was waving and cheering one of the dancers they knew. Yup. We were thrown again. This time to such a degree, most of us didn't know what act we were in. Gremio started lines from the last act and we were nowhere near that yet, we had a few acts in between. We all looked at each other and started making up lines. It was a theatrical fiasco it was!
Meanwhile, up in the balcony, Director Donovan was asking his minions in a quiet voice, "What just happened? Where is that line? Does he really say that? And why is she speaking? She doesn't have a speaking part, oh bloody hell! What are they doing down there rewriting the play?"
But one of us was standing like a deer caught in headlights, awestruck by what was going on around her and all that improvisation. Tamara Corrigan playing the role of Bianca knew one thing, it was her lines that needed to be said, and she had to get them out somehow. She walked centre stage and then just stood there. Lucky for her Bernadette McGlick, a Shakespeare addict, who never missed a Shakespearean production, and who would always sit in the front row with her copy of whatever Shakespearean play that was being presented, shouted Bianca's lines to her. Talk about instant awakening, we all shut up and Tamara suddenly shouted her lines over her mentors and somehow amidst the audience's snickers we continued on.
As for me Da's role, no one knew him so his surprise interrupting the start of the play with a drunken tirade about where his wife had disappeared to leaving him to watch a palsy play got the audience's attention. They actually believed him and he played his part 100% which was a lot better than the rest of us. As a result, when curtain call came, we'd hold him up (as if he was falling down drunk) and he got the biggest round of applause before he'd fake falling down in a drunken stupor and we the cast, would drag him off as the lights went down. That was the good of it, the bad was, from that day on when he'd go down to the local shops or be seen anywhere in town, everyone thought he was that drunk who interrupted the theatre show and worse that his real name was Chris Sly! Oh my. For years after this went on, the poor man was pointed out as the town drunkard.
He actually talked about packing us all up and moving to another town where no one would know us, yes he did, it was that bad. But me quick thinking Mam would say how wonderful an actor he was that everyone to this day, believed his role. Then he'd sit there a moment, think about it, look up and nod, smiling with the memory. What an easy mark he is. I would have taken three seconds to think about it and then cursed those people who put me up to it.
As for me, I took a few more stabs at the acting idea, and maybe one day I'll tell you about attempting the role of Van Helsing in Dracula with a method actor playing the role of Renfield, going after me onstage with a fire poker. Me legs hurt even at the mention of that. Ouch!
Gabe
Copyright © 2010 All rights reserved
R. Linda:
When I lived back in Ireland, I was subject to the annual Christmas pageants as a child. I think because of me moniker I was always selected to play the angel. The first time, I was 4 years of age and flatly refused. I had some kind of hissy fit and ended up playing the triangle in the children's orchestra and that would have suited yours truly fine, but for the child selected in me place, walked by me dressed in a lovely cream robe with WINGS. Okay, they weren't the feathered wings like you see today, they were made of paper, glue and glitter, but oh begorrah they were a fine set of wings they were, forget the garland halo, it was the wings that took me over. I had to be the angel NEXT yule time, come hell or high water.
I made me a fuss of those damn wings so next season sure enough yours truly was marched out and fitted with the very same wings and out I went harking the Lord's coming and such that I was a very proud tyke I was. So this I did for a few years until I outgrew the wings and in time, as the rest of me classmates awakened to life, was made all manner of fun for the wearing of THE wings. So I rested me career as an angel of Christmas pageants at the ripe age of 7.
There were school plays and such and I wasn't in the least interested until me last year of forms when one of me teachers thought I would make a very fine Petruchio in Taming of the Shrew. I didn't agree at all, and Shakespeare? Oh begorrah me, the language of the Bard was just too far over me skinny head to comprehend let alone act it out! No, I said but somehow me sainted mother caught wind of this offer to local stardom and quicker than you can say, "That leprechaun has taken off with me pot of gold!" I found meself cast in the role I did! But I had a condition that I would only do the play if me Da would too!
A little background here, I need to give you a wee bit about our director's vision. Barry Donovan, being a self-styled progressive sort, wanted to mix modern-day dress with Elizabethan and I will say the result was an interesting mix of strange. Katrina ran around in a hoop skirt without the benefit of material, so you could see right through it and she wore thigh boots and a laced-up velvet vest over a longish peasant blouse. Bianca wore ankle socks under high heels and mini puffy dresses with big shoulders. Lucky me had on a pair of black and white striped pirate trousers, cut in ribbons at the knees, white tube socks with high-top sneakers and a leather shirt with skulls imprinted on it. So we were considering our play "progressive" if not outlandish. To make this more fun, it was thought to add the character of Christopher Sly to the mix as a person sitting in the audience drinking and quite drunk, to be brought up onstage and "entertained" by a troupe of travelling actors . . . us.
On knowing this at the start, I said the only way I would play Petruchio was if me sainted Da would take the role of Sly since there were no lines but a few and he'd be onstage the whole time seated in a throne-like chair, drinking (cold tea) and pretending to be inebriated. Donovan wanted an unknown older gent for this role. I knew just the gent I did. Well, with much cajoling from me sainted Mam, me Da decided to give it a go. He always was a sport, so I felt kind of relieved I'd have another member of the family up there making a fool out of themselves along with me.
Well, as it happened, the rehearsals were filled with much silliness. None of us understood our roles, but slightly, however, the more we overacted the better the director thought we did.
"Just keep doin' that dare Gabriel, it works it duz!" Director Donovan would shout from the audience, where he sat with a few of his theatre minions watching us run through the blocking and lines.
And so I'd swagger around onstage and get through most of me part until I had to name off animals I would be giving Katrina's father for her hand, only I could never remember them! But I wasn't the only one, the character of Gremio, me classmate Brian Mulligan's part, seemed to allude to him as well. All and all, rehearsals were great fun then came opening night.
I arrived at the appointed hour to find Director Donovan having a ripping fit over something our leading lady said. Turned out she mentioned the name Macbeth in the theatre! Saints preserve us all, but any actor of Shakespearean plays knows the mere mention of THAT name inside a theatre is certain to bring bad luck upon all. It is usually referred to as "The Scottish Play" for that very reason. A little history lesson for you if not familiar with this "curse" of Macbeth. The story goes that Shakespeare got hold of a magical ritual used by real witches of his time and threw in the actual wording in his scene where three witches are stirring a cauldron in the opening of Macbeth. So enraged by this, the real witches (who took this as an outright insult to their craft) cursed the play in that bad things would befall the production each time it was played out.
In the theatre annals, one can look up all the deaths, accidents, and bizarre things that have happened throughout the ages when Macbeth is performed (starting with the very first time). However, for us, back to me tale. All that was actually said by Miss Marion Cunningham was that SHE would love to play the role of Lady Macbeth next. Ah yes, it was said inside the theatre and so she was made to exit the place, spin around three times, then utter a few curses, ask permission to reenter and so this was all done to dispel said curse. Yup, it was.
Shortly after this, Miss Marion who was playing the role of Kate (the shrew) had an "uh oh" moment. Her opening costume was missing! Our customers threw something together quickly as the rest of us ripped apart the backstage area looking for the missing costume which was never found! Ah, the curse had materialised and right on the very person who uttered the dreaded words!
The opening began and we did pretty well, our nerves dissolving as we got into the play itself. The audience was appreciative and seemed to laugh in all the right places and we were doing well until Gremio had a small bit of dialogue which went out of his head. We stood facing each other, me mind a total blank as well, when suddenly he made a great show of pushing back his sleeve and placing his hand on me shoulder, then looking at the inside of his arm as if in great thought. He bloody proceeded to READ his lines off his inner arm which he had penned in case of such an emergency! The audience and director never knew, but me eyes were bugging out of me head and this threw yours truly into flux as well. I had to list all those fowls and such and I ended up listing an entire barnyard of chickens, turkeys, cows . . . you name it, if it was to be found in a barnyard, I spouted it off.
A few of me fellow actors stood there gaping at yours truly who pulled it off with a smug look at the end of it, as if there was not a word out of order. They picked their lines up within seconds but I have to tell you, me heart had been pounding in me ears the whole recital and I was dripping sweat from being so bloody blank of me lines. I got over those jitters but had another heart-racing moment when I had to manhandle the shrewish Katrina and as I be saying me lines, she was supposed to move back and begin a mini striptease of sorts. That was put in by the director that she should turn the tables on her suitor by mock enticing. She'd be slowly unbuttoning her bodice as I would spout off at her, and as she was doing this me lines once again took flight and she was near undressed by the time I remembered them and her cue line came up. Talk about a pissed-off actress, when we were backstage for scene change she hit me over the head with the theatre mascot (a rubber chicken named Stretch) until the costumer came over and took it from her. It wasn't like I did it on purpose! I truly forgot me lines and this be opening night, stuff like that was bound to happen. Sigh.
That very same rubber chicken had been thrown on a platter with a long stalk of celery in its mouth and brought out for a feast scene. It was Katrina's turn to have a hissy and she grabbed the tray and was supposed to dump it on the floor, but she got into her role and heaved it across the stage, in which the celery came sliding out of the chicken's mouth and into the audience. Someone in the front row said loud enough for everyone to hear, "Ew the chicken barfed!" Without a beat, he heaved the celery back on stage hitting Gremio in the face. It took a moment to gather our wits and carry on and for the audience's laughter to subside. This was not the end of audience participation, oh no it wasn't.
Within seconds, a group of dancers came onstage to make the feast more festive when the stage right section, Row A (the entire row), was waving and cheering one of the dancers they knew. Yup. We were thrown again. This time to such a degree, most of us didn't know what act we were in. Gremio started lines from the last act and we were nowhere near that yet, we had a few acts in between. We all looked at each other and started making up lines. It was a theatrical fiasco it was!
Meanwhile, up in the balcony, Director Donovan was asking his minions in a quiet voice, "What just happened? Where is that line? Does he really say that? And why is she speaking? She doesn't have a speaking part, oh bloody hell! What are they doing down there rewriting the play?"
But one of us was standing like a deer caught in headlights, awestruck by what was going on around her and all that improvisation. Tamara Corrigan playing the role of Bianca knew one thing, it was her lines that needed to be said, and she had to get them out somehow. She walked centre stage and then just stood there. Lucky for her Bernadette McGlick, a Shakespeare addict, who never missed a Shakespearean production, and who would always sit in the front row with her copy of whatever Shakespearean play that was being presented, shouted Bianca's lines to her. Talk about instant awakening, we all shut up and Tamara suddenly shouted her lines over her mentors and somehow amidst the audience's snickers we continued on.
As for me Da's role, no one knew him so his surprise interrupting the start of the play with a drunken tirade about where his wife had disappeared to leaving him to watch a palsy play got the audience's attention. They actually believed him and he played his part 100% which was a lot better than the rest of us. As a result, when curtain call came, we'd hold him up (as if he was falling down drunk) and he got the biggest round of applause before he'd fake falling down in a drunken stupor and we the cast, would drag him off as the lights went down. That was the good of it, the bad was, from that day on when he'd go down to the local shops or be seen anywhere in town, everyone thought he was that drunk who interrupted the theatre show and worse that his real name was Chris Sly! Oh my. For years after this went on, the poor man was pointed out as the town drunkard.
He actually talked about packing us all up and moving to another town where no one would know us, yes he did, it was that bad. But me quick thinking Mam would say how wonderful an actor he was that everyone to this day, believed his role. Then he'd sit there a moment, think about it, look up and nod, smiling with the memory. What an easy mark he is. I would have taken three seconds to think about it and then cursed those people who put me up to it.
As for me, I took a few more stabs at the acting idea, and maybe one day I'll tell you about attempting the role of Van Helsing in Dracula with a method actor playing the role of Renfield, going after me onstage with a fire poker. Me legs hurt even at the mention of that. Ouch!
Gabe
Copyright © 2010 All rights reserved
