It's over, my first experience of theatrical directing. Our production of Coward's Hay Fever ran for four performances last week and it all went pretty much swimmingly. I hadn't dared to blog about it along the way for fear of somehow jinxing it.
Conclusions? For the duration of ordinary rehearsals one feels a degree of control; when technical and dress rehearsals are reached one feels woeful; during the run one feels utterly impotent; at all times one feels rather more than mild terror.
What of Hay Fever? It may be Coward juvenilia but that doesn't stop it being good. Coward always made out that he eschewed depth but no man is the best judge of his own plays. This is a play about apres la guerre insincerity, but written with a caustic sincerity. 'We none of us ever mean anything' says Sorel Bliss in a rare shaft of self-awareness.
To all the players and helpers thank you for the opportunity. Would I do it again? Yes of course - but not just yet - learning lines is much more manageable.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment