Wednesday, November 28, 2012

Grand Design

Jackson Forrest Eoute
My dear friends Philip (Edward IV and Richmond in the recent production of Richard III: The Terrible Reign) and Nikki Eoute had a baby boy on Sunday night. His name is Jackson Forrest. (Now, that's a name you can yell out the back door when it's supper time.) I've enjoyed pointing out that his monogrammed initials can spell "JEF," after me, no doubt. And, who knows, Jackson might  end up playing the dane in my not-so-upcoming 2042 production of Hamlet. (Lord willing, I'll turn a mere 80 that year.)

Jackson's birth got me thinking about what a great God we have. Talk about great design! What a miracle a baby is!

For You formed my inward parts; You wove me in my mother's womb. (Psalm 139:13)

Saturday, November 24, 2012

We Gather Together

Thankful for my family
My family knows that I'm always looking for design inspiration. Actually, I can't help myself—patterns and colors and textures just jump out at me. So when we paused (in the bright, bright sun—note the hard shadows and intense squints) for a family photo this Thanksgiving, I was taking in the weathering and dirt patterns on the brick of this old mansion outbuilding (is it just me, or are those bricks longer than "normal"?), the splay of the dead vine above the doorway, the relentless creep of the green leaves through any available crevice. There's metaphor in this picture if you look for it.

And I'd be remiss if I didn't comment on how thankful I am for the people God has placed in my life: my wonderful wife, Kim, and my two great kids, Margaret and Cole.

Monday, November 19, 2012

The End of All

Yes, that's toilet paper. I use it to blot the water colors.
Well, Richard III: The Terrible Reign is over. "His knell is knolled" (from Macbeth).

Here is what I do to relax after a big production is completed—start on the next one. We mount the opera Aida in just 16 short months, so I'm working to get some painted renderings to the costume room this week. I've already been working on this show for about 9 months and made one trip to NYC for fabric. But this production will have over 200 new costumes, so I'll head to Mood Fabric again this January.

I will probably do some Richard debriefing here on this blog at some point, e.g., notes about the webcast last Friday (my wife was a chatter), things I'd do differently from a design/directorial, things I learned from this experience, etc. But for now, I have designs to work on. . . .

Friday, November 16, 2012

Like a Careful Mother

My wife, Kim (left), and
daughter Margaret (Young Elizabeth);
Justin Snyder (Bishop of Ely) in background
During last night's performance I finally saw the images that have been stuck in my head for the last 20 years. The last fight/ghost scene was, for me at least, electric (and for my wife, too, I think—she was holding her breath). I'm so grateful for a cast and crew that persevered through this long process and delivered in a big way. Theatre artists have to work on their art and then hand it over to other artists to present it. I am thankful for the wonderful cast and crew that presented "our" art last night.

Every actor brought his A-game to the show. Ron Pyle (Richard III) was on fire. The other cast members rose to the occasion and turned in fine performances. The tech people were spot on, too. After the show, it felt like a celebration in the green room with the Wednesday monkey off our backs.

There's another show and a big webcast tonite at 8 PM. I'm looking forward to the feedback about that. (But if you live within driving distance do not miss the live performance. There is nothing like live.) The webcast will feature five HD cameras and lots of behind-the-scenes stuff including the documentary film made by cinema students about the production. And my lovely wife, Kim will be doing the live chat during the webcast! New territory. Can't wait. 

See you at the show!

Thursday, November 15, 2012

Threefold Distress'd

One of 4 incredible posters
made for this production by Jen Wetzel
Strap on your life preservers, folks. This is live theatre. There is no lifeguard on duty.

Last night's opening performance was fraught with challenges from start—is that 15-foot swath of plastic really going to fall? yup—to finish—wait, they've run out of music before the end of the fight and that means . . . the actors in the wings don't realize . . . oh, no . . . oh, yes. There were forgotten props and dropped lines and missed cues, but in the end, it was what was supposed to be on this night in this place. It is live performance art. If you want to see "flawless" (though what shaped by human hands can truly be so?), you'd best stick to movies and magazines.

And there were great moments, too. The funny bits were funny, and the audience was appropriately horrified at Richard's callous evil. Lady Anne was lovely but hollow; Richmond heroic, the Duchess of York disgusted, and the goons creepy.

The ladies sitting in front of me had come as a group having met beforehand to make a chart of who was who in the play and discuss the plot. You gotta love prepared audience members. These ladies didn't miss a beat and giggled/hissed/hooted in all the right places.

A new day. A fresh start. We make mistakes and yet are given the opportunity to forget what is behind and press on. Tonight we have another go at Richard III: The Terrible Reign. God's mercies are new every morning. Great is His faithfulness!

Tuesday, November 13, 2012

Invocate Thy Ghost

Richard (Ron Pyle), about to strike,
is haunted by the ghosts of those he murdered.
Last night was our SMART (Sharing Masterworks of Art) program for high schoolers. It was technically our final dress rehearsal. The run of the play was first-rate. I was pleased with every aspect of the production—from tech to acting to audience response. (Hey, if a bunch of high schoolers stay engaged with one of Shakespeare's histories, something's going well.)

I was perhaps most happy with the six "goons" (the guys who move the furniture/props and act as extras). As my wife so aptly put it, "Those goons totally rocked the doors." Which, being interpreted, means that they hit their marks and performed the intricate opening/closing door movements (you'd have to see it to fully appreciate the complexity) with near-perfect precision . . . no small feat, I assure you.

Opening night is now only a day and a half away. Bring it on.

Friday, November 9, 2012

Due of Birth

I stand in for Richmond in the final death scene.
Last night was the last rehearsal (aside from Monday night's SMART performance, which is technically the final dress). We had a fine rehearsal despite several epic challenges earlier in the day and into the rehearsal itself. God is always good.

One exciting moment came when Philip Eoute (Richmond) got the call that his wife was headed to the hospital for the birth of their second child. Protesting that they still hadn't decided on a name (may we suggest several Shakespearean possibilities—Eglamour Eoute? Arviragus Eoute? Dogberry Eoute?), he had to be dragged from the battlement and put into a car to head home. The video above was taken backstage just before he was sent packing.

That left me to wrap up the play book-in-hand. Not quite the heroic conqueror I'd imagined. . . .

Update: No baby as of this posting. This little Eoute  must possess a real sense of the dramatic entrance.

Ready or not, here we go! (We're ready.)

Wednesday, November 7, 2012

Divided York and Lancaster

Richmond (Philip Eoute), our hero, prays before battle.
We're using a lot of plastic in this production—another way in which I'm trying to bring a modern element to Richard's world. I've already posted about the grey "corrugated" plastic sheets that I chose for some of the doors on the set. (See "Enter KING RICHARD" post from September 26.)

There's also a fair amount of white-ish opaque plastic sheeting used. Here's the thought: Richard is such a bloody person that he needs his surroundings to be able to be cleaned easily and frequently. The plastic is so clinical, sterile (in the sense of barren/unfruitful), slick, cheap, fake—all words that describe Richard and his reign.

The curtains/dividers of plastic are drawn to create different locales of the play. In the previous (November 5 post), you can see an entire room of plastic behind the throne.

Here's another thing about plastic. It glows. Enough said.

Monday, November 5, 2012

Tyranny Begins to Jet Upon the . . . Throne

Richard III (Ron Pyle) and Queen Anne (Katharine Golightly)
with six company members standing guard
The throne for Richard III: The Terrible Reign wanted a gothic, 15th-century feel to it, so we refurbished an old stage throne that had been used in previous productions and brought it into the world of the play—glossy, black, metal. My idea was that Richard would tolerate only one throne in his court and that Lady Anne would be seated at Richard's feet clearly in subjection to him. I decided that the throne also needed steps leading up to it and that Anne would perch awkwardly on one of them. The props folks added gothic motifs such as the quatrafoil, which gave us some rounded elements against the very linear floor and doorways. We use the same throne without the steps when Edward is on it at the beginning of the play and add the steps to show Richard's meteoric rise as well as his great ego.

The boys in the background, whom I have taken to calling "the goons" (Joseph Case, Nathan Duff, John Cox, Matt Jones, Lucas Walker, and James Krech), are adding elements of coldness, calculation, and efficiency to the play. Their costumes are a touch of Victorian but otherwise modern, and the cut of their vests gives them all broad shoulders. Their makeup (note the red under the eyes) is creepy and modern. They act as set-movers, extras in the crowd, guards, soldiers, etc. They are also responsible for lots of door opening and closing. These guys are super important for the crisp execution (no pun intended) of scene changes. When they are in sync, the effect of those doors opening (or closing) at exactly the right moment is awesome.