The sporadic ramblings of Emily C. A. Snyder - devoted to God, theatre, writing, and much randominity.

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Location: New York, New York, United States

Artistic Director and Co-Founder of TURN TO FLESH PRODUCTIONS. | Author of "Nachtstürm Castle," "Niamh and the Hermit." | Playwright: "Cupid and Psyche," "Math for Actors." | Classical director and educator.

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

You! Go see. NOW.

Like, literally now. Because it all comes down on the 20th. Unless you buy it from iTunes. Which you should. Musicals are king.

Mood: Superlative
Music: Ambient
Thought: Dream I had, actually, just this morning that I was in a play I was directing for a class for a grade at Emerson but we had never rehearsed it and I'd only memorized a few parts of it and I didn't even know half the cast and so we were all just winging it from what we could remember and it was in an ampitheatre so we were just making up blocking and lines and trying to be heard and suddenly the main girl playing opposite me (I was a servant; she my mistress - like a very French comedy) starts saying lines that I know I cut but apparently she memorized anyway and it's this whole section where I'm supposed to be witty so I just start making up witticisms to her questions on the fly and fortunately people are laughing - but then I can't remember what happens next in the plot but I left my script behind the arras and so I make up some exit line and go to look for the script (my character can't be off stage for long: she IS the plot) but my script isn't there and I can sense the panic on-stage so I rush out and start babbling nonsense and then realize that it's supposed to be that the Dad is coming home but before I can announce that the other actors burst into four part choral music and I just have to run with that instead and try to get the plot back to where it's supposed to be and possibly take an unplanned intermission so that I can FIND my script to find out what happens next! Then I woke up. And I want to write a French farce. Blarugh.


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