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1108 out of 1857 and I had a fantastic time last night. The cd rehearsal wasn't particularly notable (although Charles had laryngitis and had to have Roger (assistant director) translate/amplify for him, which made for some funny ad libs). Then we escaped to get to Rice for the concert, and made it just in time for the end of Act I. Then we got to sit and watch Act II. I was sad to have missed Act I (Karim's role's best part was then, and, as Tom said to him backstage, "You could make something interesting out of a stone!"). But what we saw was lovely, and when our cue came, the ambience was amazing. Let me explain.
The Vocal majors were the real chorus, onstage (though it was a concert version and not blocked or set), for the very limited chorus part in the first act. There's not a lot of chorus in Madame Butterfly, but what there is is good. There wasn't any in the second or last act, except the humming chorus and the sailors' musical shouts from a distance. When Tom decided how he'd use the entire Rice Chorale, he had us only doing the humming chorus and the guys' sailor stuff. So we hardly needed to be onstage, right? We were scattered throughout the audience as widely as possible, so the ethereal humming came from all around you as you sat in the audience, and you couldn't tell where the singers were. It was so cool. And then my night got even cooler.
We got home and I was pretty tired, but I knew the HSC folks'd be going out, and we'd gotten Bill's new cell number, so I called it and found out they were at Katz's (no smoke! yay!). Salad took the phone from Bill specifically to tell ME a pedophile joke. I was proud (don't ask). Then Mama let us go (she didn't seem like she as going to, but we did). Once we got there, I sorta faded into the background again, but I gave my little book of interesting dreams to Fiona to read, and she thought they were pretty funny. Then I let Salad read them, and he teased me about them (I never thought I'd like to be teased, but it's nice to be paid attention to, and they all think I'm so sheltered, I get a very satisfying reaction when I come out with something appropriately HS). I'm sure this isn't funny to y'all, but I have to write it down because I want to remember it.
I wanted to switch seats with Mama and sit next to Fiona (it went from L-R, Salad, Fi, Mama, me, Bill) so I could talk to her about the dreambook, and Mama was a little surprised, and Bill asked why, or something. I explained I wanted to talk to Fiona, meaning about the book, and he complained I didn't want to talk to/sit with/be with him, and all Salad had to do was clear his throat, and they all burst out laughing and exclaimed how he didn't even have to say anything. Yes. So I was glad it was pretty dark and my face is relatively dark anyway.
Ah, but then, at the point when people were starting to leave, He mentioned he didn't bring the book he'd told me about the time before (Brave New World Revisited), but had another allegory in his car. We were leaving, and I went to his car with him and Fiona, and he gave me East of Eden by John Steinbeck. But he's leaving for Louisiana today, and maybe Malaysia, Egypt, and Thailand after that, for another horrendously long business trip. I envy him the travel, but at the same time wish to Light that he would stay here for awhile. He made a comment about the unmarried, no-children life, in a kind of tired way. It's not certain he's gone for more than a week, though. But I definitely won't see him next rehearsal. I'll have to drown my sorrows in Fi's and Bill's company. Wow, I sound like such a pathetic soap star. Am I really that shallow? I can't even do my schoolwork, I'm sitting here writing about a guy who has pained affections for my best friend in that social circle, (where have we heard this before?) a grownup, nonetheless. And I was nearly crying as we drove away. What is my problem? No, it's not the obvious choice. I'm pretty sure about that. He really reminds me of David, to whom I can listen for hours, on subjects he's really knowledgable about.
But now I have to do my homework, and I'm paying for the night out last night (block scheduling has saved my tail).
The Vocal majors were the real chorus, onstage (though it was a concert version and not blocked or set), for the very limited chorus part in the first act. There's not a lot of chorus in Madame Butterfly, but what there is is good. There wasn't any in the second or last act, except the humming chorus and the sailors' musical shouts from a distance. When Tom decided how he'd use the entire Rice Chorale, he had us only doing the humming chorus and the guys' sailor stuff. So we hardly needed to be onstage, right? We were scattered throughout the audience as widely as possible, so the ethereal humming came from all around you as you sat in the audience, and you couldn't tell where the singers were. It was so cool. And then my night got even cooler.
We got home and I was pretty tired, but I knew the HSC folks'd be going out, and we'd gotten Bill's new cell number, so I called it and found out they were at Katz's (no smoke! yay!). Salad took the phone from Bill specifically to tell ME a pedophile joke. I was proud (don't ask). Then Mama let us go (she didn't seem like she as going to, but we did). Once we got there, I sorta faded into the background again, but I gave my little book of interesting dreams to Fiona to read, and she thought they were pretty funny. Then I let Salad read them, and he teased me about them (I never thought I'd like to be teased, but it's nice to be paid attention to, and they all think I'm so sheltered, I get a very satisfying reaction when I come out with something appropriately HS). I'm sure this isn't funny to y'all, but I have to write it down because I want to remember it.
I wanted to switch seats with Mama and sit next to Fiona (it went from L-R, Salad, Fi, Mama, me, Bill) so I could talk to her about the dreambook, and Mama was a little surprised, and Bill asked why, or something. I explained I wanted to talk to Fiona, meaning about the book, and he complained I didn't want to talk to/sit with/be with him, and all Salad had to do was clear his throat, and they all burst out laughing and exclaimed how he didn't even have to say anything. Yes. So I was glad it was pretty dark and my face is relatively dark anyway.
Ah, but then, at the point when people were starting to leave, He mentioned he didn't bring the book he'd told me about the time before (Brave New World Revisited), but had another allegory in his car. We were leaving, and I went to his car with him and Fiona, and he gave me East of Eden by John Steinbeck. But he's leaving for Louisiana today, and maybe Malaysia, Egypt, and Thailand after that, for another horrendously long business trip. I envy him the travel, but at the same time wish to Light that he would stay here for awhile. He made a comment about the unmarried, no-children life, in a kind of tired way. It's not certain he's gone for more than a week, though. But I definitely won't see him next rehearsal. I'll have to drown my sorrows in Fi's and Bill's company. Wow, I sound like such a pathetic soap star. Am I really that shallow? I can't even do my schoolwork, I'm sitting here writing about a guy who has pained affections for my best friend in that social circle, (where have we heard this before?) a grownup, nonetheless. And I was nearly crying as we drove away. What is my problem? No, it's not the obvious choice. I'm pretty sure about that. He really reminds me of David, to whom I can listen for hours, on subjects he's really knowledgable about.
But now I have to do my homework, and I'm paying for the night out last night (block scheduling has saved my tail).
