Winona, MN

I’m on a plane again! This time to Newark by way of Charlotte, NC; I guess the layover flights were cheaper than straight shots.

Update on Day 11 (Monday, 10/31): By the time we arrived at the AmericInn in Winona, it was dark, and with a huge bridge looming overhead, the hotel looked quite menacing. But, it did have a hot tub and pool and so after tech, everyone spent some time in the “spa” area and hopped back and forth between the hot and cool before turning in. (Well, that was after we got lost trying to return to the hotel without Bill, as he stayed longer to finish writing light cues for the longer evening show the next day; always an adventure!)

View from the plane 100 miles outside of Minneapolis airport

What fun! The National car rental folks were *ALL* dressed up for Halloween
in Minneapolis!

Beautiful MN sky!

It just couldn't be more beautiful.

Tuesday, November 1 (Day 12): The hotel and bridge looked absolutely stunning in the morning:

Winona in the morning

taping the stage and setting the lights at St. Mary's University

The weather was gorgeous in MN, with the leaves turning, sun shining, and a crisp but not cold fall day. We had two shows at St. Mary's University, and let me tell you, the first (10 am) show was a little rough: Everyone was clearly tired, and for me, it was kind of like pulling an anvil through quicksand; it really takes a lot of concentration to stand relatively still inbetween my monologues; I feel almost like fainting sometimes due to being tired and having to stand in semi-darkness on-stage. Mind over matter; mind over matter; don’t lock your knees; catch yourself when you begin swaying a bit. Sounds crazy, but that’s some of what’s going through my head in the long (half hour?) before my first monologue. I do try to concentrate on the other actors’ words as much as I can, as well as think ahead to my own upcoming monologue. 

Damian practicing during tech

My castmates all expressed how tired they were, too, and Bill was somewhat sympathetic, saying, “We’re about at the halfway point of the tour, and everyone now needs to begin to pace themselves, rest, and take care of themselves.”  He’s been through so many tours over the years, I’m sure he can see everything coming long before we do.  Bill has a very calm and quiet leadership quality, which is essential when organizing a crew of 10 mostly-young, heavily-testosterone-laced, and therefore often-rambunctious actors (with only three women, and only three aged 30 or above – yes, I’m the “above” – the testosterone levels are overwhelming! Did I tell you that when we’re on the road by car, four of the guys throw a football around any parking lot in which we stop – even if it’s just for a bathroom break or packing the car. I have yet to get a picture, but will attempt it).

The 10 am audience was mostly high school, and they were quiet and respectful, and, uh, somewhat responsive; there were quite a few not only sleeping (in the first row, no-less!), but slouching so much in their sleep that they seemed to be slipping out of their chairs. Funny. I can recall being that tired during morning performances when I was a student – both high school and college. There was a short Q & A afterwards, and then we did a sort of “master class” at 12:15 for a college arts and culture class; they were coming to the evening performance (it seemed that mostly the professors asked the questions, although a few students asked some questions).

There were no body mics at this venue – our first time without the mics; while there were three floor mics and some hanging mics, they are nothing like having a body mic, and we were really having to push our voices to reach an adequate level for the upper rows of the venue (it wasn’t a huge venue, but conversational level is not loud enough).  I MUCH prefer the body mic (those who have to change pants during the show say it’s a pain); for me, it’s hard to connect with the emotional journey of the mothers I’m playing if I am practically shouting. So that was my challenge during both these shows (and a challenge it turned out to be! Keep reading!).

After the “class,” we wanted to both eat and sleep; I couldn’t decide which one I wanted more, but the only choice was getting food on the way back to the hotel, which we did; after eating a late lunch, I worked on emails for about an hour to let the food settle, then got about an hour’s nap. Then back to the theatre at 5pm for a 6:30 show.

Here’s some info on how we as an ensemble, and I as an individual, prepare for the show.  I mentioned before that we all generally spend some time in the space, in our designated lighting spots and/or walking the stage or the auditorium, doing lots of vocal warm-ups  and going over monologues (honestly, it can sound a bit like a movie-version of an insane asylum). I like to hang in the yoga position “forward fold” to stretch my back and hamstrings, given all the standing we do on stage (and all the sitting in cars/planes we are doing).  We generally gather on the stage at about 15 minutes to house opening, get in a circle, and do some group tongue-twisters (such as, “To sit in solemn silence on a dull dark dock, awaiting the sensation of a short, sharp shock…” or “Whata to do, to die today, at a minute or two til two…” etc.), play an energizing/focus game (zip-zap-zop has been our go-to and favorite so far), then take hands and pulse around the circle with eyes closed, trying to get our breathing in sync. Finally, Chris leads us in putting all hands in the middle like a football team, and cheer the city we’re in (“I, 2, 3, WINONA!”), then he counts to four, and we all clap four in a row.  After the group stuff, we may still have half an hour before curtain; the bulk of the actors have iPods with a selection of music they use for the show.  I’ve often done this in the past, but didn’t bring any music this time. I make sure I’ve gone over each of my four mothers’ monologues before the show, as I’m pretty sure everyone else does, too (their own monologues, not mine, haha). 

Nick, Sean, Damian helping out during light and sound check

There is one additional thing that I and three other actors do every couple days:  There is one section in the full (95 minute) version which involves four of us actors coming forward together for a kind of “scene”  (all other monologues are single actors coming forward one at a time). While we still don’t look at each other while performing the “scene,” we are talking to each other through the letters, so it is different than all the other letters in that way. The “scene” is made up of a soldier who gets killed (Nick), his mother (me), and two of his commanding officers (Kevin & Sean) who communicate with his mother after his death.  This is one of my favorite parts of the show, because there is so much connection between the four of us: We gather in a circle in the half hour before the show, and say our monologues TO each other; we can look intently into each others’ eyes, we can grab hands and console, I can look at my “son” while I’m speaking of him or while he is being remembered to me by his commanding officers. Tears flow. Needless to say, it is extremely powerful for us, and fully prepares us for that connection we need when we can no longer look at each other, but say the same words during the performance.  Yesterday, before the evening show we did not gather like that, but Sean and I took a moment to just stand face to face, looking at each other, holding hands; the eye contact is so intense and just that moment of connection - coupled with all the previous preparation work we’ve done - causes my emotions to be extremely accessible and at the surface.  This is then recalled during performance, and it is so real, so effective, so powerful for the audience. Last night during this scene, the audience was right there with us on the journey, sniffling and nose-blowing as we told this one tiny bit of one person’s story and loss. It is so satisfying to play a part in moving people this way!

One more tidbit about preparation: When I started rehearsing for these monologues, I knew I’d have to do some background work, to develop some “memories” for the women I’m playing, and place myself into these “imaginary circumstances”: This is all work I learned and did this summer in my Act One Studios Meisner class. I ended up writing many pages for each of the four mothers, casting all my “sons” with real people from my own life, and developing memories for their childhoods, as well as the situations I talk about in the monologues.  This work helps me simplify the work, keep it honest, and keep it real for me in the moment.

HOWEVER, I do still stumble.  Last night’s performance was my first experience (outside of rehearsals) with completely losing my lines in one of my monologues; I was completely lost; I knew the “gist” of what I was supposed to talk about next, but couldn’t find the exact words; I made up some things.  I felt so naked and transparent, TERRIFIED; there was NO ONE TO SAVE ME! I had to get myself out of this, or just drowned alone.  I made up something about depression and this being a hard time (which was the “gist” I was aware of).  I threw in some lines that came to me and made up some more.  It felt like it went on forever! BUT – while a few cast mates noticed, others said they didn’t notice the new lines at all.  So that means the audience probably didn’t notice. WHEW! (A nice additional boon for me was, after the performance and talkback, while I was talking to a fellow actor from Chicago who had come to see a number of us she knew in the show, a woman who appeared to be 60-something, pointed at me through the folks to whom I was talking, and mouthed, “Wonderful! You were just…perfect.” Wow! Felt good.)

Two more things from the talkback: A retired Vietnam vet spoke up, saying he was really hesitant to see the show, as in his experience most of the time soldiers and war are represented in a negative light. He said this was “one of the most authentic representations” he had ever seen, and that it completely reflected his experience in the war. Anytime a vet speaks up, they are actively holding back their emotions just to express something that is so powerful, they must express it even through heavy emotions.  That means so much, to impact another human being like that! I later learned that he told other cast members that he lost his three brothers during Vietnam. Wow. 

In addition, a middle-aged or younger man spoke up to say his 19-year old son was in the service right now (overseas, I believe?), and that though his son is not in harm’s way at this time, he and his wife found this show extremely moving and of course, very difficult.

People are so willing to share in response to the show; it fills them up, and they spill over, needing to make a comment. It’s a beautiful thing.

Atlantic City is next, with a day and a half of rest this evening and tomorrow after two flights today (we got up at 4:30 am again!).  The rest is much needed for everyone.

MN sky again!