Pictureless and the Gods of Theater
Nov. 7th, 2008 09:01 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
angela_n_huntOkay, this time, NaNoWriMo has eaten my head, hence, no photos.
*sigh*
But it's at least a reason I can embrace. I've kept up on my wordcount and the novel is finally breaking open in serious ways that I've been waiting for, up to and including waking up with plot threads I had been missing. Thank you for Dreaming/Writing Brain!
* * *
barriequark has been kidnapped by the theater, which is not dissimilar to being kidnapped by gypsies and is having a *grand* time. I am a little jealous as theater is and always will be my first love. There's nothing like it. And if it paid a living wage while clawing the way up or if I'd been better supported, I never would have left it. It's one of the last places where the gods are worshipped in all their chaotic glory.
Because you cannot imagine the feeling when your entire cast and crew knock it out and the curtain falls and there is this *moment* where absolute silence rules. It's not the silence of boredom or lack of paying attention. It is literally the held in breath of nearly a thousand people all thinking together, "Oh, let it not be over..."
And then the applause hits you in an enormous wave with the same force as one from the ocean. It's a physical force, that wall of sound. And you peek out and they're standing on their feet.
That feeling doesn't go away.
To this day, I can remember the quiet weeping at the end of The Crucible, when we killed it. The enormous laughter and wall of standing ovation applause at the end of Guys & Dolls, because we were blessed enough to have Nathan Lane before anyone knew who he was.
Yes. I miss it.
Because until you've stood alone on an empty stage, staring out at that empty vast cave of a house, a single work light on behind you... The waiting darkness seeming to whisper, "Tell us a tale. Make us laugh. Make us cry. But whatever you do, don't be boring." I can't tell you what it's like. You have to have that moment in the waiting darkness for yourself.
And oh, when you do.
You will want it forever.
This morning, I askedbarriequark how Tech had gone last night.
"Is it always that chaotic?"
"That's why it's called Hell Week."
"Then it went fine."
I could only nod and smile. Yes, it's always that chaotic. And wonderful. And glorious.
She loves it. I have to laugh to myself. How can you not? I know it's not for everyone, but if you have even a smidge of sawdust in your veins... Well, it'll always be my drug of choice.
Hail, Apollo! Hail Terpsichore and your sister Muses! Another disciple has come to worship at Your temple.
House lights, out. Standby, Curtain. Cue One, go.
*sigh*
But it's at least a reason I can embrace. I've kept up on my wordcount and the novel is finally breaking open in serious ways that I've been waiting for, up to and including waking up with plot threads I had been missing. Thank you for Dreaming/Writing Brain!
* * *
barriequark has been kidnapped by the theater, which is not dissimilar to being kidnapped by gypsies and is having a *grand* time. I am a little jealous as theater is and always will be my first love. There's nothing like it. And if it paid a living wage while clawing the way up or if I'd been better supported, I never would have left it. It's one of the last places where the gods are worshipped in all their chaotic glory.Because you cannot imagine the feeling when your entire cast and crew knock it out and the curtain falls and there is this *moment* where absolute silence rules. It's not the silence of boredom or lack of paying attention. It is literally the held in breath of nearly a thousand people all thinking together, "Oh, let it not be over..."
And then the applause hits you in an enormous wave with the same force as one from the ocean. It's a physical force, that wall of sound. And you peek out and they're standing on their feet.
That feeling doesn't go away.
To this day, I can remember the quiet weeping at the end of The Crucible, when we killed it. The enormous laughter and wall of standing ovation applause at the end of Guys & Dolls, because we were blessed enough to have Nathan Lane before anyone knew who he was.
Yes. I miss it.
Because until you've stood alone on an empty stage, staring out at that empty vast cave of a house, a single work light on behind you... The waiting darkness seeming to whisper, "Tell us a tale. Make us laugh. Make us cry. But whatever you do, don't be boring." I can't tell you what it's like. You have to have that moment in the waiting darkness for yourself.
And oh, when you do.
You will want it forever.
This morning, I asked
barriequark how Tech had gone last night."Is it always that chaotic?"
"That's why it's called Hell Week."
"Then it went fine."
I could only nod and smile. Yes, it's always that chaotic. And wonderful. And glorious.
She loves it. I have to laugh to myself. How can you not? I know it's not for everyone, but if you have even a smidge of sawdust in your veins... Well, it'll always be my drug of choice.
Hail, Apollo! Hail Terpsichore and your sister Muses! Another disciple has come to worship at Your temple.
House lights, out. Standby, Curtain. Cue One, go.
