As the Playwright in the Room
Posted by Sarah Gubbins on 7/25/2008So one of the most rad things about having a team of crack designers is how invested they get in the world and characters of the play. Case in point: props. If you pay special attention to the book our fictional novelist wrote you might notice that the book jacket is adorned with rave reviews (totally invented) from the New York Times, San Francisco Chronicle, and Chicago Tribune. If you had super laser vision, you could read the certificates in the bookcase, my favorite being Sy’s basketball award from Harvard Law. And I’d be lying to you if I didn’t tell you how cool it is to overhear the costume designer talking about what kind of watch Bec would wear or how Sy’s idea of accessorizing differs from Madi’s.
Despite the fact that we only had eight hours to tech through the entire show (a feat I had no doubt our rockstar director and her team would accomplish), as the playwright in the room you want to try and be useful. So I did what I could.
11:00 Walk through space with the cast. Totally love it up that we’re in a theater.
11:10 Marvel at the really good coffee backstage.
11:30 Crack open the NY Times crossword puzzle.
12:15 Check sight lines for Meredith.
1:45 Contemplate quietly how I could work in a J.D. Salinger joke.
2:35 Give putting lessons to the costume designer. Cut a few lines from the play. (Redundant beat in Scene 5)
2:45 Check sight lines for Meredith.
3:00 Dinner. I’m famished.
5:15 Covet Bec’s sneakers.
7:00 Loan my hair pomade to a needy actor. Cut a few lines from the play. (Beat in Scene 7 needs trimming.)
7:25 Check sight lines for Meredith.
7:35 Track down that NY Times crossword puzzle. Find it backstage, completed. I’m suspecting the wardrobe crew finished it.
8:05 Eat an Ice-cream sandwich on a ten minute break. Thank god for the sustenance.
9:00 End of Day. Go home, eat pizza, and cut a few lines from the play. (Chris’ final monologue needs a little thinning.)