The theatre had their second and a half annual new season fancy-casual Gala last night. They have been holding them as long as I have been directing shows there. It's a time to remind the community of our existence, give 'em free food and drink, ask them for donations and to buy season tickets, and introduce them to the upcoming season of (now) nine shows.
Each director is assigned a table to present and promote their show. Though at times nerve-wracking, this is a favorite aspect of mine. Something about it reminds me of grade school alternative options to doing the written report. If that's the case, then half of the kids should get failing grades. Or maybe I'm just an over-achiever. I just find it insulting when those who represent not only shows being put on by the theatre, but the theatre itself don't seem to put in a lick of effort.
The mingling masses shuffled on by, getting the chance to give the first whiff of public air to the show's poster art, which turned out beyond my wildest expectations. Since the show's focal plot point is a dinner party shared with friends, invitations to the show were available for everyone. And if they listened closely they could get a listen to my specifically chosen blend of tunes revolving around themes and moods of the primal existence, whether it be traditional African or Native American music, Shriekback's animalistic Nemesis, or Oingo Boingo's Island of Lost Souls-inspired No Spill Blood.
My other contribution as a director for the season is to submit a short scene from the show to be performed. My poor show is still healing from all of the wounds it has sustained so far. This is not the time to put my actors up to the scrutiny of the local public, so I made the decision to completely recast the show for the scene on the spot. The casting was an uphill battle, as has been my ability to get my complete cast in the same room together, so what better tongue-in-cheek means of poking fun at this scenario then to have some new blood join in. It's like a cover band. Although in this case, my lead actress - finally back from her trip - read for her in-show husband. My girlfriend, who'd been reading that actress' part in her absence, switched off and read for her close friend. A random much-too-old woman who was curious about the show read for the lead and I had a well-humored friend of mine read not for the fourth character, but as the enigmatic narrator (i.e. he delivered the italicized portions and directions in his best audio book voice).
What a fun evening!
I thought it was ironic, that the geezer who wanted your show banned cause he "cares" so much about the Theatre...his table presentation looked like he cared less.only a few black and white pamphlets and his one foot in the grave. ah...i loved it.
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