WEEK TWO, COMMENCE

Silly snow.

Yesterday, Britt and I went antiquing.  I cannot express how much I am in love with antiquing.  We were looking for specific props/costume pieces (sherry decanter, sherry glasses, little scissors, watering can, slip cover, fake roses, a dress for Britt, a smoking jacket, and a tuxedo shirt).  We spent about an hour and a half in the Antique Mall in German Village.  Room upon room upon room of incredible, amazing stuff.  I found three enormous drawers full of hundreds of small, black and white pictures.  I picked one up and saw a smug man standing in front of a motor car from the 20s.  He was standing on a random, dirt road.  Another thing I found was a small lacy heart, obviously store-bought, that said "To My Valentine" on one side, and then on the other had a little poem.  What was incredible about this gift was that penciled in on the back with the poem was 'To Ms. Gordon, from Horace'.  Stuff like Horace's message and that man on the dirt road almost makes me cry.  I don't know why, but I love to see these old, old things full of life but yet somehow remain to be so anonymous.

We did actually find some stuff for the show, Britt and I.  I found a sherry decanter, she found sherry glasses, and I did come across a smoking jacket, but it was too small for the actor we had in mind.  I found in a display a very small pair of sewing scissors that were apparently perfect for the scissors Rich needs for the show.  After the Antique Mall we went to Salvation Army, where we found a tuxedo shirt (in Salvation Army?!  I was stumped too), a slip cover for the couch, and a pack of ugly fake roses.  While we were perusing the shelves in Salvation Army, Rich called and said it was 3:30.  Rehearsal for my Scene Night was set to start in a half an hour!  Britt and I had no idea we had spent SO MUCH TIME antiquing.  We're going to go tomorrow too.

Today was all grunt work.  The Importance of Being Earnest opens on Thursday.  I have signed on to be a stage hand for all five weeks of their performances.  That means Thursday, Friday, Saturday night I will be at the theater.  Today, we were painting the two periactoids (huge, three-sided columns that are used to display different settings) to look like wall paper - I (with help from two of the TGS interns, Keihin and Sierra, and then from Britt later on) had to tape long strips of masking tape down the periactoid's side, making sure it was straight and the right distance from the other tape.  Then someone (sometimes me, sometimes someone else) would paint the side of the periactoid - tape included.  When the paint was dry, I took off the tape and - VOILA - wallpaper.

We are doing two sets of these wallpapers - one for Algernon's house and one for Jack's house.  Algernon's house is painted a 'rose' color (that looks very much like plain pink, but Rich gets very flustered when anyone points this out), and Jack's house is painted a lovely yellow.  Britt and I also had to use this taping method on three enormous slabs of wood that will go up against the garden stone wall for acts one and three, and be the walls for Algernon and Jack's houses.  This means that one side of these slabs has to be pink - excuse me, rose - wall paper and one side has to be yellow.

I like doing the manual labor stuff, especially when people are coming in and out of the theater.  Melinda, the costumer for Importance, would abruptly make appearances in and out of the day, and I liked that every time she came she could see our progress.  I like that I am part of the scenery of the theater.  Sometimes when I come into a theater I see someone working on a set piece, or cleaning, or looking over a script, or really just looking like they belong there.  I don't ever really notice them beyond that, since I'm here at the theater to see a show or to audition or something.  But I like that I have the chance to be part of the background of the theater and not in the foreground as an actor.  Yes, it's awesome to be acting, but I also like just basically living at the theater.  I was there from ten until six today, and Britt was telling me that I shouldn't come tomorrow at twelve, since I have to be there until about ten at night for Importance final dress.  She suggested I come at two.  We compromised for one.

Also - to include something I learned - Rich said something about how we didn't need actual cucumbers for the cucumber sandwiches because "it doesn't read from the audience".  I didn't know what that meant, and so he explained to me that if something "reads" from the audience, that means that the audience will be able to see it - whether it be something that's supposed to be seen or not.  So, for example, I was outlining the stones in the garden wall, and when it got to the very bottom of the muslin, where a plank of wood covered it up, I didn't bother to finish outlining because it wouldn't "read" from the audience.  And lo and behold, when I sat down in the front row, my beautiful stone outlines disappeared behind this plank of wood.

Also, I got a key to the theater, in case I get there before Rich or Britt is there, and in case I have to rehearse when neither of them can make it that day.  Having a key makes me incredibly happy.  I like thinking that I am such a part of this theater that I can get a key.