Steppenwolf Theatre Company Blog – Chicago Theater, World-Class Ensemble

Fucking musicals.

This thought runs through my head as I sit backstage after a particularly labored scene.

“Are we overthinking this?” someone asks. Energy is waning. Some of our tried and true bits are falling flat. People are slumped around the backstage space of The Hypocrites’ new office/rehearsal space, recently dubbed The Horn.

It is late August. It is humid. There are seventeen actors sweating and singing and dancing and guzzling water from paper cups and water bottles. Outside, it is 80 degrees. In The Horn, it is probably 112. We bought an AC unit, but quickly found out that it blows all the fuses when you turn it on. Sweet.

Kurt Ehrmann’s white shirt is completely soaked through with sweat. So is mine. Robert McLean’s is pretty damp, too. It’s like a middle-aged wet t-shirt contest. No one wants to see this.

Some people are backstage, poring over their lines, looking for clues to parts that aren’t working. Some are talking things through with each other:

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It’s been a little over a week since the last First Look play closed. And it feels like an eon ago that we—cast and crew—were meeting as strangers around folding tables in Yondorf Hall for the first table reading of Fair Use. So what happens now that Sy’s office chair has been rolled onto a cargo van, the Nerf football returned to storage, and Madi’s three inch heels boxed up? Well, the dust clears, the Hypocrites load in to the Garage, and I head to my favorite neighborhood coffee shop to do some more rewrites.

“Whoa there, kiddo! Did you say rewrites?”

Yes, gentle Steppenwolf blog reader, I hear that hint of incredulity creeping into your voice. You thought the time for rewrites was long past. I can see your logic, considering the play has been performed, and before nine audiences no less. But it’s not quite done. Over those nine performances I got to scrutinize how the play was landing. I was able to see where Meredith’s staging strengthened moments of storytelling and where the actors’ unscripted character interactions clarified intentions—the toss of a fortune cookie, the pulling out of a chair. I noted where the play lost momentum and where it seemed to soar. And I heard a death knoll for a few jokes, (”elaborate Butoh apologies”…may you rest in peace). But I also heard the laughter, the gasping, the headshakes, and the “oh no he didn’ts” of those nine different audiences. So with all that in mind, it’s time to work on this final draft, the post-production draft of Fair Use. To all of you who came and sat in the audience, thanks—your participation will be written into the play.

Audience members line up outside Steppenwolf for the chance to purchase last-minute tickets to Superior Donuts.

I love rehearsals. I really do. I think I may love rehearsals more than performances.

In the first week are table readings. The play is discussed, analyzed and read again and again. Under the best of circumstances (and with Frank Galati directing his own adaptation, these are the best of circumstances), the first week also involves a good deal of free associating, wool gathering, audacious theorizing and a good deal of (possibly) tangential story telling.

As Kafka on the Shore is a play dealing with dreams, imagination and varying levels of reality, the discussion has been wide-ranging. For instance, did you know that while many of the residents of Davao City in the Philippines find the taste of the durian fruit exquisite, most people just down the road and elsewhere think it revolting? The best way to clean a dog who’s been sprayed by a skunk is to bathe it in ketchup. Some people refuse to believe that their right arm is part of their body. There are people who experience sound as color. (more…)

I’ll admit it. When I learned that the final collaborative workshop of the Young Adult Council’s summer series was with a group called 500 Clown, I expected to learn how to juggle. I’m sure I’m not the first to make the assumption—an easy one to make having never seen one of their shows before—but after a six-hour workshop spanning two days with their representatives, it’s a conclusion I will never jump to again. Clown does not equal “a grotesquely dressed comedy performer in a circus.” Walking in the room, our three leaders (Molly, Paul, and Matt) had on shirts boldly stating, “Life is worth the risk.” It was at this moment I knew I would not be leaving with my own lapel flower that shoots water.

We warmed up with an intense game of FourSquare…yes, THAT FourSquare. No special rules except we had to play to win and fake a horrible death when we got out. After this trip down memory lane…we took another one! Red Light, Green Light can get extremely interesting when played the right way. These games helped get our energy way up and then we got into some exercises to help us work as an ensemble and learn to trust and take risks with our partners. (more…)