Letters from Boston #2December 22nd 2007 |
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From Julieanne Pogue
Rehearsal, December 20, Thursday:
I need a hug. Rehearsal was marvelous, scary, confusing, maddening, thought-provoking, and traumatic. To me. ONLY to me, it seems. Gina and Laura breeze through the day with nary a care, whilst I feel moved to challenge Jack at every crossroads. We have discovered that Mamet can be so obtuse as to leave even the scholarly-and that is all of us - at a loss for words.
I remember when I played Isabella in “Measure For Measure” at the Guignol, and Charles Dickens, God rest his soul, would say, “Just act the hell out of it!” when we came to an obscure reference. I am just as puzzled today as then. How does one act the hell out of something one does not understand and still make sense of the writer’s plot?
Today there were times when I wanted to scream, ‘I have NO idea what I’m doing!!!!”. No, I tell a lie, today I screamed on NUMEROUS occasions, “I have NO idea what I’m doing”. And it’s not because Mamet is cryptic or elusive. It is because we DO NOT UNDERSTAND what the %^^&*( he WANTS! (Mamet…only Mamet. I conjure in terrifying paranoia that what Jack wants is January 29, NOW!!!)
It doesn’t help that Jack’s inordinately capable mind multitasks at the speed of light when he gives directions. Or that I am, at the last, a Bear of Very Little Brain. When we stop for a “tweak”, it seems as though we are taking a doctorate level course called “The Import of Everything 101”.
Gina is a hoot, Laura is a hoot, and I am wandering like Israel In the Desert... wondering when I might be shown a glimpse of the Promised Land. I wonder as I wander. (Sounds like a song!)
I have Performance Anxiety. It is a Big Role. I need Help.
I’m going to have to give up control, I think. At least in some situations. Because his comic instincts are so right, and he knows Where We Are Going.
I keep thinking that this is can be really lovely…ensemble, timing, intelligence, humour. And I have nary a fingernail left to chew.
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