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Aug. 1st, 2002 02:42 pmYesterday evening, J. and I were on the same train, as she had gone to Chinatown for some ingredient shopping after work. To our surprise, after we had boarded the commuter rail, we were immediately joined by a SCAdian blacksmith/computer programmer of our acquaintance named F. (mundanely, of course, known as C.), whom we did not immediately recognize because he was bald. "You may not recognize me," he said, "because I am bald, but you know me."
He was correct on all counts.
He and a friend were headed up to Salem to see "As You Like It" at the Salem Common. This production had flown under our radar, as it were, and so it came as news to us that such a thing might be taking place, free of charge, in the City of Witches. So we went home and dropped off our pan-Asian groceries and then went to the Common. By the time we got there, it had been running for nearly an hour (F./C. and his friend knew they would be late).
I am glad that F. (or C., if you prefer) explained the premise of the production to us: it was a "first-folio improv," wherein the actors were given their lines and their cues, based on the text of the first folio, but were forbidden to read the entire play. What's more, they are a touring company and often switch roles from night to night. As a result, no one was expected to know their lines. All of the actors carried small scrolls around with lines or at least mnemonic devices, and a man dressed as a sports referee sat to the side of the stage area and acted as prompter. (He also blew a whistle to halt the action when noisy motorcycles or what-have-you went by.)
It was all very jovial.
And hard to follow, and often hard to hear, and somewhat slow-going with all the interruptions, and yay, much was the biting and the sucking of the mosquitoes. So we left at intermission -- two hours after the play started -- and had Guinesses at McSwiggin's, the foolishly named new Irish pub on Essex St.
I will wax poetic about the Vietnamese sandwiches that J. brought for our dinner on another occasion; for now, they were tasty, and it was well convenient that she had a portable dinner handy.
Today I have done a bit more work than usual of late for home-study days, primarily by making myself turn to some writing first BEFORE I logged on. I shall have to remember this cunning trick.
He was correct on all counts.
He and a friend were headed up to Salem to see "As You Like It" at the Salem Common. This production had flown under our radar, as it were, and so it came as news to us that such a thing might be taking place, free of charge, in the City of Witches. So we went home and dropped off our pan-Asian groceries and then went to the Common. By the time we got there, it had been running for nearly an hour (F./C. and his friend knew they would be late).
I am glad that F. (or C., if you prefer) explained the premise of the production to us: it was a "first-folio improv," wherein the actors were given their lines and their cues, based on the text of the first folio, but were forbidden to read the entire play. What's more, they are a touring company and often switch roles from night to night. As a result, no one was expected to know their lines. All of the actors carried small scrolls around with lines or at least mnemonic devices, and a man dressed as a sports referee sat to the side of the stage area and acted as prompter. (He also blew a whistle to halt the action when noisy motorcycles or what-have-you went by.)
It was all very jovial.
And hard to follow, and often hard to hear, and somewhat slow-going with all the interruptions, and yay, much was the biting and the sucking of the mosquitoes. So we left at intermission -- two hours after the play started -- and had Guinesses at McSwiggin's, the foolishly named new Irish pub on Essex St.
I will wax poetic about the Vietnamese sandwiches that J. brought for our dinner on another occasion; for now, they were tasty, and it was well convenient that she had a portable dinner handy.
Today I have done a bit more work than usual of late for home-study days, primarily by making myself turn to some writing first BEFORE I logged on. I shall have to remember this cunning trick.
