BY: KELLINA MOORE ’18
Kate Glowatsky ’16 (left) directs actor Lauren Jackson ’16 (right) in rehearsal for Love & Information. Photo: Dante Haughton ’19
Caryl Churchill’s Love and Information, the third student-directed workshop production of the semester, is currently running in the JKB. The show, directed by Kate Glowatsky ’16, is comprised of 37 vignettes. Though rehearsal for any show is a multifaceted process, a show like this one results in rehearsals being particularly scattered and chaotic. The following are my observations on a rehearsal that I attended on the Friday before opening night, presented in chronological order.
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6:01 – I scurry into Studio A, hoping to find Kate, the director, though I know rehearsal has technically already started. Instead, I find an actor pouring a full bottle of grape juice into an empty bottle of wine.
6:04 – “6:04!” Erica, the stage manager and lighting designer, shouts to no one in particular, keeping the actors and production team on track.
6:07 – Kate runs about, singing to herself about moving a chair or adjusting curtains. Outside I can hear the murmur of actors catching up, savoring final moments of free time.
6:08 – “Everything will be alright in the world; we’re adding sound cues today.” Kate commands a group of actors with the confidence and humor that only a young director can possess. Midway through her pep talk, the house lights flick on.
6:10 – Places. Actors scurry to every corner of the room, knowingly preparing for their entrances.
6:11 – The long-awaited sound cues are quickly deemed faulty and are abandoned for the sake of time. The lights go down. An actor walks silently into the round and sits down cross-legged. Kate yells: “We’re not starting yet!” Actor leaves.
6:13 – The run begins. House lights down. Line: “I want you to be happy here.”
6:17 – The wine bottle from earlier appears. I’m always astounded by how much grape juice resembles wine, though I guess it shouldn’t be surprising.
6:25 – Line: “I warned you.”
6:26 – A second wine/grape juice appearance. Hello old friend.
6:35 – A dramatic pause filled by the sound of Kate scribbling notes on her yellow legal pad.
6:44 – A character tells a story of a boy without fear. She runs up to me, holds out her hand, looks me dead in the eyes – I feel it.
7:02 – A book is dropped. Kate looks displeased.
7:15 – The show run finishes. The curtain call is met with muffled applause, as there are only four people in the audience including myself and Kate. Five minute break. The actors file out, getting water or food or other miscellaneous sustenance. Unsurprisingly, they look tired.
7:25 – Erica, taking over for Kate: “We’re going to keep running these transitions until they’re so fast they don’t exist.” Actors, like swimmers donning caps, remove their shoes and socks, shaving valuable seconds off their time.
7:27 – Since the show is in the round, setting up involves all of the actors running around the studio, popping in and out of what seems like a thousand curtain openings. I have no idea how anyone knows what they’re doing—a testament to how hard everyone has worked on this.
7:29 – The first transition is two seconds. “Too slow!” calls Erica. They start from the top.
7:30 – Too slow, start again.
Too loud, start again.
Too slow, start again.
7:32 – A face emerges from a curtain, asks a question, and then recedes back into darkness.
7:39 – In the middle of transition madness, a conversation about the “best metric system in the world” ensues. These people are excellent at multitasking.
7:45 – At this point, I’m exhausted just watching the actors lugging their large wooden rehearsal cubes back and forth.
7:47 – Incorrect entrance—exchanged glances of confusion—laughter.
7:53 –Chair, chair, wine bottle, book, chair, rehearsal cube…The objects are flying in and out of the round faster than I can write them down.
8:01 – The transitions have been run. The director enters; she is pleased.
8:09 – As Kate gives out notes, several actors inch over to Erica, hoping for some of her chips and guacamole. She bestows chips like communion upon the actors kneeling before her chair.
8:23 – There is a glint in Kate’s eyes and she explains her note to an actor. She’s probably just squinting as she looks upwards at the house lights, but it looks a lot like smiling.
8:24 – Kate: “It’s like… You’re cooked noodle body and she’s uncooked noodle body. You’re both noodles.”
8:30 – They’re all speaking in code. Notes fly by as quickly as the show’s vignettes.
8:31– They all play such a wide range of characters and scenes that it is phenomenal to me that they are able to do it even remotely convincingly, let alone deliver the moving performances I just witnessed.
8:32 – A wine glass is careening across the room. My writing is suddenly disturbed by the sound of shattering glass. Kate powers on through notes as someone grabs a dust bunny. The show must go on.
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Love & Information runs in JKB Studio A through Wednesday, April 13th, with two Tuesday performances (7pm & 9pm) and one Wednesday performance at 7pm. For more information, click HERE.
Kellina Moore is a sophomore English/Religious Studies double-major and a staff writer for the Living Newsletter.