That’s it, our little boat is officially launched. Tonight was the premier performance of our inaugural play. If the world blows up tomorrow, the Lyric Stage Project will still be a produced theatre company, and I would die a happy man. I would say that the feelings I have right now are indescribable, but that would suck in a blog, as describing things is pretty much the only purpose for these things. Therefore, without much further ado about nothing, allow me to get my descriptive on…
I’m exhausted. Feeling number one, right there. No, wait a minute, that’s not feeling number one at all, that’s like, number three. Pride, that’s number one. Immense, overwhelming pride in everyone involved in this Project after witnessing our finished product, which I just got to sit back and enjoy tonight. We declared a mandate to work at the highest level of our craft a certain time ago, and it is gratifying to see that we lived up to that goal. Is seems that working at the highest level of a craft is a lot of work, judging by how exhausted I am right now. Wait, that’s feeling number three, we’re only at number two yet, aren’t we? Which would be, oh, let’s go with inspired. That’ll work.
My role in this particular production was a pretty dry one, in terms of an overall artistic aesthetic. Essentially the communications hub of the company throughout the preparation term, I was solidly on the producer’s side of the fence on this one. This is not by any means a complaint, it satisfies the control freak, nit-pick aspect of my personality splendidly, the side of me that needs to make sure the boat is steering a true course. That other side of me however, the artistic side, felt a little abandoned by me at being kept out of the room. I felt a slight twinge of the jealous while talking to Ben today before he slid backstage, and recognized it as a jones for the stage. The trust connection between players, the pre-show butterflies, and the shared focus is actor crack, and the distillation of the process that is why we do what we do. Getting off on that feeling is what most surely defines an actor.
The play started ten minutes late tonight. We had a good reason though, pretty much the only good reason to hold the curtain: we were trying to find extra seats to accommodate the number of wonderful people who came down to see the play. The Beaumont was bursting at the seams and we still had to turn people away. An auspicious beginning, I’d say. Marci finally walked to centre stage to do the whole cell phone check thing, lights down, music up, and boom, our stage company was baptized. All the work, all the stress, all the blood, sweat, and tears shed in rehearsal were paid for in full by the performances we witnessed; committed, truthful, private, and connected relationships all. I was, and still am, overwhelmed with pride. Ben, Lori, Eliza, Matt, and Anna made me hunger for more of this business tonight, and my inspiration meter is in the red. If this is the beginning, where we can get to is beyond even my imagination. My head is swimming with ideas for our next project, and I’m itching to start work on it. It may have to wait for the morning, however. I’m exhausted.