Palm Sunday - Cory and I went to the gym and now she's at a brunch in Brooklyn with some friends, and I'm left to my own devices. Not a bad thing. Made a brunch of my own, worked on the place a little bit, brought out that print from the West New York Book Arts Collaborative I want to get framed, prepped for an audition, and realized a theory that the world may have been created as a result of the Adagio movement of Brahms' Violin Concerto in D. As I was doing the dishes. It's possible that I've been thinking too much about Godel in the wake of Einstein's birthday. Or that I've been thinking too much about Lost.
Another view of Richard and Chris' scene.
See, a good stage manager makes all the difference to a show. Moves things along, keeps people on the ball, solves problems you can't even imagine, oftentimes even before they rear their heads. And in some cases, they even volunteer to take on additional tasks that have nothing to do with the job description - like using a pain-in-the-ass actor's camera to shoot the scenes that said actor needs to be, you know, on stage for. And to shoot gems like this one of your truly - looking, I don't know, darkly annoyed or something.
Here are a couple of the other pics she took:
This one really gives a sense of these rehearsals: the detritus on the Director's/SM's table; the ad hoc furniture; the fluorescent fixtures lending their unnatural glow to the natural light flowing in through the windows; the big old room, full of life and history in all the cracks and creaks.
Last but not least, I'm not sure what's going on here - no one appears to be speaking and Cathy is writing in her script, which might indicate that we're getting direction or making an adjustment of some sort - but I do like this shot.