never surrender

An ill-wind comes arising
Across the cities of the plain
There's no swimming in the heavy water
No singing in the acid rain
-"Distant Early Warning", Rush

After Tuesday's mess of a rehearsal, we came home to a neighborhood-wide power outage. Sitting in the glow of candlelight with my sweetie offered the chance to find a lot of clarity. Though the storms continued throughout the night, by morning skies literal and metaphoric were far clearer. I woke up ready to tackle the hell out of this bruised and battered masterpiece.

It's said that every production has one under par performance, wherein the rote and familiar passages practiced and practiced just don't deliver the same punch. The collective heart tends to be elsewhere. On the first show it was the evening our review was published. The words were glowing, but one of my actors couldn't wrap their head around what could likely be construed as a backhanded compliment. That drop in energy affected everyone. The second show didn't have a night like this. Each successive show was more intense, more well-attended, and more well-received than the last.

I contend every show, instead, has one rehearsal fitting of this description - its point of no return. On the first show, our stage manager was sick, leaving me with double duty, our unpredictable actress was late, and my male leads were running lines from an entirely different show, and my fourth actor was busy texting in relation to some drama or another. I could not get the focus together. So I cancelled the rehearsal on the spot, to the utter surprise and chagrin of the actors, who quickly did the bad child turn-around. This was the turning point that headed the show in a more positive direction. Every one of us put in much more effort after that night, to the overall success of the show.

On the next one, I was going through the end of my marriage, which I feel added just one more level of crazy to the proceedings already rife with mental instability. Abandoning town and the then current orbit for some much needed sanity, I left the show in the hands of my quickly promoted already overly vocal and opinionated stage manager cum assistant director. This irresponsibility toward my show, though entirely necessary, filled me with embarrassment. My first night back after my brief sabbatical was the key turning point for the show.

When your sails are losing wind, it's time to turn the boat. Since productions are in ways living, breathing entities, far bigger than any one person, taking the power back over the beast is not only a necessity but an invigorating reminder of one's own spirit. The faith hiccup lasted all but a breath, but long enough to cause some worry. Everything has since been moving in a very positive, productive, forward direction. Yesterday was the best day of the week, full of accomplishment, connection, good food, and a joyous love of life!

Salud!