Saturday was funny because by the time we arrived everyone was sick and tired of everything.
As times goes on we have been adding more and more elements of the finished show to the rehearsal. Saturday it was time to integrate the children's choir at last. I had seen them milling around the hallways, but I hadn't actually heard them at work, and they are enchanting.
Their voices are like sunlight shining through immaculate cut glass, a gorgeous merry lark of crystal clear wind. They were feeding off the creative energy of the leads and were absolutely bursting with life.
In fact by the look of sullen, weary faces behind the table it looked as though they had been for some time. By the end of their session -- a hour and a half later than it was meant to be -- the stern barks of "children!" were becoming more and more frequent from behind the big tables.
The next day the soloists, the chefs, the trees, the fish, the children AND the director began with expansive yoga-like stretches after the choreographer's example. Let's begin afresh seemed to be the idea. Since then (as far as we the supers are concerned) the show is run through in rehearsals, rather than focusing on particular scenes. We have graduated into the Real Thing.
This means that the chefs and trees and fish may leave after our bit is done, but I have twice now hung around so that I could watch the other parts of the show, albeit without full costumes.
1. Maureen McKay (Gretel) and Elizabeth Byrne (Mother) trying to maintain composure in the face of a giggle-fit.
2. Darrelle*, off stage, quietly singing along to the finale with a big smile on her face.
3. Sandra and Maureen both (I think) singing the upcoming pieces in the bathroom during the break.
4. Elizabeth and Weston Hurt (Father) dancing off stage to the music as they waited for their cues.
5. Listening to the littlest boy in the break room lamenting that we have a rehearsal on Halloween. His already limpid eyes became even moreso -- almost tearful -- and managed to reason that at least we are not practicing during Christmas.
6. Seeing Weston cornered by a charming eggheady youth rattling on a lot of statistics about World War I
*I don't have a full name or a website for Darrelle, though she is special to my heart because she was the first soloist who introduced herself to me. We have since had brief but lovely talks about drawing, cooking, and a gloss on the strange gypsy life these performers must lead. She along with Sandra and Maureen are youngish, yet have done a good amount of work already which makes me a little dizzy. Each successive show on any given performer's website seems to be in a different city, far away from the previous city. Darrelle lives part time somewhere else, but will be in [y] city for [x] years, and I didn't really get a sense of where it is she actually calls home.