Saturday, June 18, 2016

Geist Rehearsal WK 2

How have we come to the mid-point of the rehearsal process so swiftly, simultaneously so depleted and energised? Let's review the evidence.

On Monday we were all still reeling from the killings in Orlando, the day was long and the queer content of the piece seemed to resonate in a different way. The week ahead of us seemed an insurmountable mountain, the summit of which could only be more disturbing still. Trying to find reason in an unreasonable tragedy felt futile, so we worked somewhat numb, almost as a distraction.

Tuesday we broke out a new scene and a new set up, and with it came a sense of possibility, not of forgetting but of forward motion however staggered. We spent a lot of time in discussion around soft furnishings, trying to decide which pillows would most likely be found on the sofa of our central femme fatale Kate Peters. (Pictured are a pair which didn't make the grade - sadly they were just a tad too Costa Coffee but we wish them all the best for a long and fruitful career).

Wednesday called for increased fire power in the form of liquid ginseng - it was just like being back in Hong Kong la!

The real star of the week was Fran Lima however, with whom we spent 3 days filming the central scenes for GEIST.

Thursday was all about sound, mainly unwanted. We have been shooting opposite a building site which has slowed down the process by about 20%, an annoyance we had grown used today. However when the skip rolled in to town the camel that is my mind broke her back. We sat around gossiping until their was a moment of quiet and then hurled ourselves into action stations every time there was an audible lull. Somewhow we made it through 15 pages of dialogue, but just imagine what we could have achieved with budget for a sound studio.

So then came Friday as she does, when we had to reel in the biggie, the face off between Kate and Imogen, Frost .v. Nixon style. Food poisoning visited the cinematography dept. and the upstairs neighbour's washing machine harmonised beautifully with the builder's across the street at semi-regular intervals, but somehow we forged on. If I have made this week sound like nothing but a cheerless chore I apologise. Besides the vomiting, the noise bleed, and the spectre of constant violence, it was actually quite a lot of fun.

This is what my head feels like rn.

If you want to see how that translates onstage then BOOK HERE:

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