And so I return to the blog. Old hat, been-here-done-it, I-could-write-this-with-my-eyes-closed. But fortunately, my summers are not any sort of Bill Murray movie, but especially not "Groundhog Day" (maybe "What About Bob?," but even that's stretching it). This summer, Endstation itself is repeating the process of throwing a brand new original work on its feet, but thankfully, it's a process that will never be the same process, and even more thankfully, it's a process that I, the wizened, jaded blogger, have never participated in.
"My Brother's Knife: A Madison Heights Odyssey" is on its second day of rehearsal with the playwright, Joshua Mikel, sitting in/working on what will be the "table work" period of MBK--which will be lasting about two weeks, if not more. For me, this process is incredibly exciting because I've never worked on a totally new, never been done before, original work. To get to participate in the creation and premier of a work allows my input as an actor to have a different effect. Instead of this being just my "take" on a character, essentially, my thoughts on and my dealings with this character have the potential to make her a new character, not just a version of an old character. It is a weighty weight to weigh.
I'm literally in the midst of discussions right now, and the rapport flows freely in the conference room. Back and forths, questions, statements, here's what I thinks, why do you think thats. We're all just here trying to figure things out because we're all working on this together. Minus Michael Stablein, who apparently will be "sitting in" on MBK rehearsals all summer; I had no idea that Geoff's penchant for aesthetic beauty carried over even into the rehearsal room (re: glorified eye candy)!
Right now, our day-to-day process is very up in the air. Sometimes we'll have things to read, sometimes we'll have things to talk about. I can't imagine what an accomplishment it'll be to see this show up on its feet entirely by the end of the summer. And hopefully, by then, I'll have remembered to go home and get my camera, so that my blog entries don't rely on solely on my well-defined literary voice and excruciatingly clever wit.