Deadbeat Incommunicado

If lately it seems like I dropped off the face of the earth and do return emails or phone calls, do not blog, vlog or YouTube - it is not because I am a lazy bastard (well, perhaps that is a part of it) but it is mainly because I am being a Trojan Woman all day long, every damn day.

This means lots of standing, moaning, sniffling and wailing. Standing in pools of light, here, there and everywhere, and clumping all over the stage as our various lighting cues are set. We four chorus women act as the main furniture of the show because we are on stage the entire time and there is not much in the way of sets.

We are as big as tents in our shapeless square brown pieces of cloth and all you really see of us is a square bit of face and two hands peeking out from beneath the folds. As a novice actor, it is a bit harder to act when your body is completely encased in robes. But I guess I will just have to rely on my clown face to get me through.

We chorus women are versed in the 4 "C"s: Clumping, Crying, Clinging and Complaining - we also clutch, carry on, canoodle and curry favor. There is something strangely comforting about being a part of a chorus entity. I am not sure what I will do when I no longer have my chorus posse to cling to - it will probably take weeks to get used to being unattached to them on a regular basis.

As exhausted as we all are with day after day of rehearsal and tech, there is always a sense of camaraderie on the stage. And even if I have been standing for 4 hours straight and my legs feel ready to buckle underneath me, Ruth manages to crack me up with some smart ass remark, or one of the soldiers makes me burst out laughing, Kelly shoots me a wink, Alex says something naughty under her breath or Claire puts her head on my shoulder and it all seems ok.

I guess this is what it feels like to be a player. The work can be excruciatingly dull and exhausting at times but when you are with a fine group of people, it all seems worth it. Now my only worry is that I will crack up. The play is so relentlessly depressing and we are so slap happy from countless rehearsals, it seems plausible that we might crack under the pressure and punctuate each sad ode with fits of giggles.

Such as tonight when Alex was complaining to me about the Greek masters who are gonna take us away and molest us. I run my hand down her face and say, "Night is a queen, but I curse her."

Not sure why but this started me off of a jag of giggles which then infected Claire's next speech. I think it could hit us like wildfire if we are not careful. Hope we can at least make it till closing night without this happening!

So in two weeks all the madness will be done and hopefully you will still be my friend then. And in the meantime, if you are local, come and see The Trojan Women - and if you are lucky, you might come on a night when comical sheenangans ensue! Otherwise, expect pain, pain and more PAIN! Revel in the tragedy! YipeeeeeE!

And in closing, my favorite line of the show which I am lucky enough to deliver, "The bright pronged spear immortal of THUNDER might SMASH IT!" Oh yeah, tell it like it is Euripides!