If I ever needed a reminder of just how up and down this business can be, the first three dates on the tour would have served this purpose perfectly. The Flying Monk in its new incarnation has now three shows under its belt, with a performance at our 'spiritual home' and two shows as part of the Brighton Fringe Festival.
I don't need that reminder by the way, I am all too aware of how different each and every performance can be, both in terms of the dynamics on stage and the response of the audience.
What I had underestimated, perhaps, was the significance of home advantage. The very first showing of The Flying Monk, last year at The Spring, was a euphoric evening of theatrical alchemy, in which 6 underprepared and exhausted actors created magic in front of a nearly full auditorium of incredibly responsive people. I was not expecting a repeat of this, as I think that first show was one of those once in a lifetime experiences. Nonetheless, last Thursday still felt like a very satisfying evening, again with great feedback.
By contrast, Brighton was a different animal, with each performance different from the other, too. Sunday's show was in front of a pretty healthy crowd by Fringe standards, and as a cast I think we were glad that we had rehearsed for this smaller space, as there would have been chaos had we not. Even so, we were all operating on dual-brain mode, by which I mean we were both performing the show and processing the logistics of working in the small space at the same time (this is a bizarre phenomenon that most actors will be familiar with). Anyhow, the performance went pretty well all things considered, but the response from the audience was very different. Essentially they were much quieter, which made me feel that perhaps we weren't connecting with them as we should. Fortunately I could detect the odd chuckle in the right places, and I don't think we were getting negative vibes from them. In fact, the applause at the end was very gratifying and seemed to be driven by sincere appreciation which made me feel that perhaps we needn't have been so concerned.
And finally, our Brighton swan song, in which our cast of six outnumbered the audience 2:1. That is the Fringe that I remember. Although this is somewhat disheartening, I don't think it had an adverse effect on our performance. We all certainly seemed happier in the space, there were fewer tongues tripping on lines and the pace whipped along very nicely. Like the good professionals that we are, we can be secure in the knowledge that we gave those three people our all, when it can be very tempting to to take your foot off the pedal in those circumstances.
Of course, this is a very personal, subjective appraisal of the run so far. I believe we had a critic in for both of the Brighton nights, so I await with no small amount of trepidation their views on the show. I still have faith that we provide a very satisfying evening of theatre, but that faith is very fragile. We'll have to wait and see.
Tuesday 18 May 2010
Wednesday 12 May 2010
So this is unemployment...
It's bloody hard work! Since the bank holiday weekend that marked the end of my old life, I actually haven't stopped. The first day of true leisure, when I had nothing work related in my diary, was this Friday. That is no longer the case as I now have a meeting that may lead to a bit of proper paid work if all goes well.
I've been so busy that I haven't even had a chance to sign on. Fortunately the money side of things isn't so much of an issue in the immediate term, but certainly by July we will be feeling the pinch. But it is on my to-do list.
I am a big believer that we make our own luck, and that good things happen to those that see the opportunities and take them. I'd like to think that my experience so far is proving this theory as, potentially I am looking at having projects to work on until the end of this year, on top of the workshops and youth theatre stuff I will be doing in the summer. All of these things are dependent on the success of a series of meetings, all of which will be taking place next week, so I should have a clearer picture of what the next six months at least will look like by the end of May. Quite how much of the exciting goodness will be paying the bills is unclear, but experience is a crucial currency and should open up further opportunities.
Tomorrow is the first night of the tour, and I have to say the nerves are already kicking in (this is unusual for me, as I tend not to get nervous much these days). Even though the show is tried and tested and we have, I think, improved it since then, I feel that there is so much more at stake now. Plus my own perception of our work has possibly become distorted, due in no small measure to the raging volatility of my self-confidence. But my ego and its idiosyncrasies warrant a whole post on their own. Suffice to say that there is a world of difference between working on something as an informal project and then taking that out into the professional field. The Big Question is "Are we good enough?" Unfortunately I don't think I'll be able to find an answer to that question for a few weeks yet.
So, for now, the best I dare hope is that tomorrow's show is not a complete disaster. I don;t think it will be, and I hope the rest of the cast share that view. I'd like to think they'd tell me if they didn't.
Wish me luck...
I've been so busy that I haven't even had a chance to sign on. Fortunately the money side of things isn't so much of an issue in the immediate term, but certainly by July we will be feeling the pinch. But it is on my to-do list.
I am a big believer that we make our own luck, and that good things happen to those that see the opportunities and take them. I'd like to think that my experience so far is proving this theory as, potentially I am looking at having projects to work on until the end of this year, on top of the workshops and youth theatre stuff I will be doing in the summer. All of these things are dependent on the success of a series of meetings, all of which will be taking place next week, so I should have a clearer picture of what the next six months at least will look like by the end of May. Quite how much of the exciting goodness will be paying the bills is unclear, but experience is a crucial currency and should open up further opportunities.
Tomorrow is the first night of the tour, and I have to say the nerves are already kicking in (this is unusual for me, as I tend not to get nervous much these days). Even though the show is tried and tested and we have, I think, improved it since then, I feel that there is so much more at stake now. Plus my own perception of our work has possibly become distorted, due in no small measure to the raging volatility of my self-confidence. But my ego and its idiosyncrasies warrant a whole post on their own. Suffice to say that there is a world of difference between working on something as an informal project and then taking that out into the professional field. The Big Question is "Are we good enough?" Unfortunately I don't think I'll be able to find an answer to that question for a few weeks yet.
So, for now, the best I dare hope is that tomorrow's show is not a complete disaster. I don;t think it will be, and I hope the rest of the cast share that view. I'd like to think they'd tell me if they didn't.
Wish me luck...
Friday 7 May 2010
Expectations
I'm musing on the experience of being an expectant father. "Expectant" and its linguistic kin is loaded with meanings, implying anticipation, even impatience, and can even suggest the imposing of values or standards on the thing you are expecting. I would say all possible meanings apply to this situation.
The many books and sources of advice for fathers-to-be seem to offer a consensus that this nine-month period, for men, can often be something of a limbo. They reassure you that you mustn't worry if you feel somewhat removed from what is happening to your partner. That it is, ultimately, the mother's show at this stage, and as long as you make sure you are there when needed that is about it.
So, carry on as normal then. Having played your part in conception, you are largely redundant until some approximate date in the future. Interpreting the advice in this way could easily encourage a lack of engagement with the process if one is that way inclined. But I'd like to think that most men in this position want to feel involved at every opportunity. A kinder reading of the advice might be that you should be, but don't worry if the focus of others is mostly on your partner. After all, she's the one with a human growing inside her.
My own experience has been quite serene. I would define it so far as normal life punctuated by frequent moments of epiphany. Every time I see Yummy Mummy I am reminded of the impending Life Changing Event, and I deal with this in my usual way, by taking it in my stride. Yet I'm always mindful and it's nice to have that thought in the back of your mind all the time. I have so far only had one oblivious moment, when a couple of months ago a fellow luvvie whom I see occasionally mouthed to me across a theatre the word "congratulations" only for me to reply with "what for?" In my defence, I was in work mode, surrounded by students, and I had lost track of who knew our News. There has been so much going on that the greeting could have applied to a number of things.
To bring some structure to this ramble, I'll go back to those meanings of expectant. The anticipation part is obvious, the anticipation of each new milestone: the first scan, the first time you hear the heartbeat, the first time you feel baby move. Having a baby is such a massive thing that the reality of it doesn't always sink in, so I look to these moments as another confirmation that, yes, this is actually happening. Then the impatience comes hard on the heels of anticipation, as only impatience would (it is, after all, the emotion the tail-gates all other states as though it has the most important appointment to get to so just move out of the way thank you very much). I am currently slightly envious that YM is feeling ever more regular flutters and I yearn for the moment when I too can experience something that is an unequivocal kick instead of possibly a stomach rumble. I also am really looking forward to YM getting properly BIG! Probably more so than she is, in truth. I can imagine myself vicariously wearing that bump like a badge of honour, so that everyone, even strangers, can tell that I'm going to be a Dad.
Then there is the imposing of values. I find myself wondering how much Bow (Baby On Way, for the uninitiated) is being shaped by the antenatal sensations s/he is encountering. To name a few, Bow has been in the audience while the Tiger Lillies sang about pyromania and sheep-shagging, has spent two weeks on stage with YM in a production of The Crucible, surrounded by people emoting like there's no tomorrow. And even this evening, we sat in a theatre and were at one point serenaded by a lounge-singing guinea pig that was abruptly shot dead! I can imagine Bow in his/her edge-of-consciousness wondering what the hell kind of world s/he will meet in September.
All of these moments are spread between stretches of normal life, and then of course come the epiphanies. I'm working late into the night most nights at the moment, and as I crawled into bed in the early hours one morning this week, YM was fast asleep, turned slightly towards me on her side. I placed my hand on her belly, and was suddenly overwhelmed by the magnificence, wonder, awesome scariness of this new life. It was a beautiful moment of emotion deeper than simple tears, and I can't wait to have it again.
The many books and sources of advice for fathers-to-be seem to offer a consensus that this nine-month period, for men, can often be something of a limbo. They reassure you that you mustn't worry if you feel somewhat removed from what is happening to your partner. That it is, ultimately, the mother's show at this stage, and as long as you make sure you are there when needed that is about it.
So, carry on as normal then. Having played your part in conception, you are largely redundant until some approximate date in the future. Interpreting the advice in this way could easily encourage a lack of engagement with the process if one is that way inclined. But I'd like to think that most men in this position want to feel involved at every opportunity. A kinder reading of the advice might be that you should be, but don't worry if the focus of others is mostly on your partner. After all, she's the one with a human growing inside her.
My own experience has been quite serene. I would define it so far as normal life punctuated by frequent moments of epiphany. Every time I see Yummy Mummy I am reminded of the impending Life Changing Event, and I deal with this in my usual way, by taking it in my stride. Yet I'm always mindful and it's nice to have that thought in the back of your mind all the time. I have so far only had one oblivious moment, when a couple of months ago a fellow luvvie whom I see occasionally mouthed to me across a theatre the word "congratulations" only for me to reply with "what for?" In my defence, I was in work mode, surrounded by students, and I had lost track of who knew our News. There has been so much going on that the greeting could have applied to a number of things.
To bring some structure to this ramble, I'll go back to those meanings of expectant. The anticipation part is obvious, the anticipation of each new milestone: the first scan, the first time you hear the heartbeat, the first time you feel baby move. Having a baby is such a massive thing that the reality of it doesn't always sink in, so I look to these moments as another confirmation that, yes, this is actually happening. Then the impatience comes hard on the heels of anticipation, as only impatience would (it is, after all, the emotion the tail-gates all other states as though it has the most important appointment to get to so just move out of the way thank you very much). I am currently slightly envious that YM is feeling ever more regular flutters and I yearn for the moment when I too can experience something that is an unequivocal kick instead of possibly a stomach rumble. I also am really looking forward to YM getting properly BIG! Probably more so than she is, in truth. I can imagine myself vicariously wearing that bump like a badge of honour, so that everyone, even strangers, can tell that I'm going to be a Dad.
Then there is the imposing of values. I find myself wondering how much Bow (Baby On Way, for the uninitiated) is being shaped by the antenatal sensations s/he is encountering. To name a few, Bow has been in the audience while the Tiger Lillies sang about pyromania and sheep-shagging, has spent two weeks on stage with YM in a production of The Crucible, surrounded by people emoting like there's no tomorrow. And even this evening, we sat in a theatre and were at one point serenaded by a lounge-singing guinea pig that was abruptly shot dead! I can imagine Bow in his/her edge-of-consciousness wondering what the hell kind of world s/he will meet in September.
All of these moments are spread between stretches of normal life, and then of course come the epiphanies. I'm working late into the night most nights at the moment, and as I crawled into bed in the early hours one morning this week, YM was fast asleep, turned slightly towards me on her side. I placed my hand on her belly, and was suddenly overwhelmed by the magnificence, wonder, awesome scariness of this new life. It was a beautiful moment of emotion deeper than simple tears, and I can't wait to have it again.
Thursday 6 May 2010
ReBoot
So, a new blog. The title of which is, I think, apt for a couple of reasons. Firstly, the blog coincides with me embarking on a new adventure and leaving my old life behind. Secondly, the most significant part of this new life is A New Life. Currently gestating (horrible word!) within the belly of Yummy Mummy, slowly but surely developing into something wonderful.
So what was the old life? Well, for the uninitiated, I have left the job I have been doing for a decade to pursue a career in the performing arts, with my own theatre company, lots of ambition and a great deal of uncertainty. It really did feel, on May 1st when I awoke for the first time as a struggling actor instead of a jaded teacher, like everything was starting over again. A new job, a new member of the family on the way, and in all likelihood given my new occupation, a new residence at some point down the line.
I was filled with excitement, optimism, a sense of emancipation and no small amount of What The Fuck Have I Done?!?!
But it is an adventure, no one can deny, and so I thought it fit to chronicle this adventure in blog form, especially as I thought I'd have more time in which to do so (this has been the first lesson of Life 2.0 - I have less time, not more).
So, as I enter this next stage of my life (and I'm sure there are people out there who are thinking I've done a crazy thing. I'm one of them!) and prepare for fatherhood, please join me on the journey by following this blog. It might be informative. It might be inspiring. It might be banal. It might just make you glad that I'm the numpty that's taken this decision, rather than you. Most likely, it will be all of these things at some point or another.
Enjoy.
What The Fuck Have I Done!?!?
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