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We are back after our first day off since tech. Scott gives us notes and we do a line-thru. Trying to keep all the new blocking straight in my head. With the three quarter configuration, you need to keep moving/make sure you aren’t obstructing someone/on their plane.

It’s “College Night”. The show is filled again, the crowd much younger than usual. Lots of texting in the dark, I notice, as I walk out to take my place. Someone in the audience whistling (it sounds like) “Pop goes the Weasel” for some reason as the lights come up. A couple of cell phones ring. All of which is a tad distracting at the start, but then all calms down and the show takes over.

Will informs me during intermission why whistling in a theatre is bad luck (I had always heard that, but never knew why): whistling was the signal to release a sandbag, so if you mistakenly whistle, someone could drop a sandbag on your head!

We actors are a superstitious lot. So much depends on things that are not in your control. Your body, your memory, your voice, your health are fickle things.

But to try to control everything strangles all the life out of your work. Each moment is slightly different, night to night. The connections different, the audience different.

But the conversation is the same. The text is what you memorized. The experience is supposed to feel fresh, the first time you’ve done it, and you must somehow convince/entice/compell/intrigue the audience into listening to the story, believing you are the person that you say you are.

Sucking on lots of Ricolas today. Official opening is tonight.

-John

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