Rehearsal Process

Rehearsing is an odd occurrence that, I believe, not a lot of people would choose willingly to go through. And as an amateur actory type person, there’s a lot about rehearsals that I would sack off. I cannot stand the waiting, the time it takes to rehearse over many weeks and the learning of lines. This speaks to my epic amounts of impatience. I just want to be like 80% ready to go and do about two weeks of rehearsing with all that normally comes before that point already magically downloaded into my brain. It’s in those last couple of weeks where I start to become relaxed about everything and my patience is tempered because I know that the really fun bit on stage has arrived.

Last week I wrote about Bull and the Market Harborough Drama Society and what lovely people they are. I mentioned that I get grumpy sometimes when rehearsing and I’m pretty sure I’ve been a little grumpy at times when rehearsing Bull, so I want to apologise to those who have had to put up with me. There are just times when I get really irrationally resentful that I have to rehearse through no fault of anyone. And it’s an odd contradiction because without the weeks long process that take up multiple nights of the week and learning lines whilst not at rehearsals, you don’t get the feeling of becoming a mini family and witty (and not so witty) repartee between this group of people that could only meet because of theatre. And I genuinely love that feeling of becoming closer to everyone and gelling as a team. Also, I’ve been acting for twenty fives years. You’d have thought I know what putting on a show entails by know, but apparently not.

There’s always a line or two in the show that everyone loves. I won’t tell you the line that we love in Bull, because you’ll have to come and see the show and see if you can spot it. I mean it’s quite obvious what our childish minds would choose as the best line and it’s got a good swear in it

(O yeah, I got told off by my Mum the other day for swearing too much in my posts. Whoops! Sorry Mum, love you. I do have an unwritten rule that I won’t use the ‘C’ word and I don’t think I’ve used it yet. Maybe? Can’t remember. Not because I don’t like it or won’t say it, I defo will, but I know others are really really put off by it so I am trying to stay away from it. Anyway, just to let you know that I’m a fully paid up adult with a mortgage, pension and a job where I’m responsible for a decent sized small business employing over twenty people, but my Mum can still give me that little look and use a certain tone of voice to put me in my place.)

Fuck, sorry where was I? O yeah, our favourite line. It doesn’t matter now where I go, if I hear those words, my memories will immediately zoom back to rehearsing this odd little play and happy thoughts of rehearsing and hanging out back stage, just having a chin wag with like minded people. Without rehearsing there isn’t a show. Without pacing up and down in my living room repeating the same line over and over and berating myself when I get it wrong, there isn’t a show. Without all of this effort, there isn’t a show. Come and see it if you can.