I studied "The Merchant of Venice" for me Intercourse. That was what we called the exams that you did at 15 in Ireland. It was the only intercourse I was getting at the time but that’s another story. I used to know that play off from beginning to end. I knew that Antonia fancied the arse off Bassanio (literally) and Portia was an early Kd Lang fan. At 15, the gay references in literature were very important to us for reasons that only Freud could decipher. However, I don't think I ever really analysed it the way I have "The Memory of Water". I've now seen MOW so many times, I'm having dreams about it and unfortunately they all involve coffins rather than the snogging scene.
I directed this play in Ireland in 2006 as a tribute to my dear old mum. I was very jealous of the cast back then as they get to burn brightly under the stage lights while the poor director bites his nails in the darkness of the auditorium.
It’s been my dream therefore to act in this play even though the male parts are the equivalent of the reproduction process. We’re there at the start, full of enthusiasm and energy and we turn up at the end for support. But we don’t really contribute much in between.
We've now finished our marathon 14 night run and I'm more exhausted than Warren Beatty's index finger. I really don't know how people act and hold down full time jobs here.
Drama has been a large part of my life since I first played a love hungry young farmer in 1993. I’ve performed with four different groups in three different countries but the most interesting thing I’ve found is the ability to compare this latest production to our humble production back in 2006.
Rehearsals were much more intense. I kind of wonder how my old group in Dublin can pull off such wonderful productions based on two nights a week for 9 weeks. They start at 8.15pm when everyone stops talking about the Hermes Bag they picked up in the Brown Thomas sale. Break at 9pm for tea and Jaffa cakes and a chat about Charles' dogs or the latest gay cowboy movie showing in the Multiplex. Start again at 9.30pm and finish at 10pm when Paul locks the doors.
In Melbourne, we did 7.30pm to 10.30pm twice a week with no break and then 2pm to 7pm every Sunday. In Dublin, the idea of warm ups was to lift four chairs and make a phony set. In Melbourne, vocal and physical warm up was obligatory. I can now say "I want a proper cup of coffee in a proper cup of coffee cup" while standing on one leg and turning my knee clockwise.
The lighting was fantastic and benefited from a fixed gantry and the lighting manager from the Melbourne Opera house doing some freelance work. There were 97 light and sound effects during the play which is about 95 more than we had. The overall effect was to have a floating bedroom slide into the sea. We had side curtains and a back screen that could take light changes and projection. I hate to say it but flats are very 1980's. My recommendation to Dublin would be to invest in some side curtains and a back canvas. Takes away all that painting fun but means that future Me’s don't have to climb ladders.
The acting was excellent as was the direction. It was a bit over the top though. The director came in at the interval and end of each production to give us notes. I also struggled with some of the voice direction. She wanted me to project from the stomach but with an inflection from the top of my head, as though I was smiling behind my eyes! I took this to mean shouting which came in handy when the air conditioning machines were turned on and the cockatoos started dancing on the tin roof. Not a problem we had to face in Dublin, it should be noted.
As with all groups, there are nice people that I would like to work with again and not so ni nice people. You meet a lot of pre-Madonnas in amateur drama. I was in a play in Dublin years ago, where I had to walk on at the end and execute the lead character. That’s all I did. I used to joke that "Lonely Hearts" was a tale about an executioner with some flash backs, but one of the girls in this play took “Me, me, me” to new levels. She told me the other night that I should take two steps back because she couldn't see Frank when he was speaking and she needed to see him to reply. I said "Have you tried acting?" and she hasn't spoken to me since.
The party was a damp squib, but then I am cursed to remember the Northbrook Hotel in the early years of the 21st Century and compare everything to it. John "Darcey" Glynn reciting "The Planters Daughter" to a trembling female audience, Charles and myself re-enacting act 2 of "Round and Round the Garden" while helping ourselves to beer from behind the bar. And stumbling out at 8.30am into a Dublin Sunday morning having drank ourselves sober. We’ll never see those days again.
We had the cast and crew party in the foyer. There were some nice presents, particularly for me. Nobody told me, but the tradition is for the cast to buy each other a present. So I got 5 presents and didn’t have to buy anything! Bonus. I was driving as we were out in the sticks. So I had one glass of wine and made my way home. No murdering of Leonard Cohen songs, no Waltzing Matilda with footnotes. No mad hooves galloping in the sky. But the weak, washy way of true tragedy.
At least I didn’t have to help with taking the stage down. I think I was supposed to, but I didn’t anyway. That’s one tradition I am taking from Dublin.
The audience loved the play. Said it’s the best piece of theatre they’ve seen etc. And it is. I hope the DVD will be out in time for Christmas!
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