|And I'm spent!|
- It's trying to everyone's voice - the ranges for all vocal parts run the gamut, it's nonstop singing for the audience members, and characters belt, sing in falsetto and shout.
- It's mentally taxing - several of us in the "audience" are on stage nearly the entire time. When I'm not on, I'm doing a quick change and a change back.
- I have a semi-permanent red patch on my scalp from my ill-conceived plan to make myself look a little edgier by streaking my hair with crimson temporary hair color spray. All my stuff and my boyfriend's stuff is also pink as a result.
|I was going for "Demonic."|
I haven't been doing theater very long, and I hope to continue doing it, but I can honestly say that I probably won't ever again be doing anything quite as naughty, as bold, clever or controversial as this. It's an honor to say all those F-bombs, to pretend to gag at a man relieving his bowels onstage, to choke on my disintegrating glittery lips and do hideously lascivious and suggestive things just a spitting distance away from our audience members.
Working with the fellow actors and crew at New Line is always a joy - an absolute clinic for me - as I marvel at their talent and consummate professionalism - but not ever at the expense of fun and creativity. Just total competence.
Not to tempt fate, but I'm somewhat pleased that whatever protestations this production received were nearly limited to feeble, mostly copied letters from a group who had clearly never seen the opera, and one or two "walkouts," which we expected. I'm so incredibly proud of the St. Louis theater-going community of which I am a member. It's evident in the wonderful engagement we have in the performing arts in St. Louis that my hometown, albeit humbled and troubled, is special. It's great to put something totally insane and offensive out there and to be fully embraced.
So as we close the doors on Jerry, his guests, his audience, and wave goodbye to him one last time, I'm very grateful to have been part of this filthy, wild, bizarre, operatic moment. If you'll excuse me, I think the lesbians will see me now.
|...No, I cannot.|