Jump in With Both Feet

Tonight was our first rehearsal.  The read-thru.  Traditional awkward evening of stumbling through the material, slowly processing first impressions of fellow cast members, figuring out where you'll fit in, etc.

Ok.  Lies a Minnelli.  Yes, it was our first rehearsal. Minus the read-thru.

It was cray-cray hot today.  The dirty, wonderful old-school rehearsal space I insisted upon using was near 100 degrees.  As the cast entered the space, which was crammed full of set peices from the past 6 shows, the looks of confusion started.  What the hell?  There's not even enough room to walk around, let alone rehearse.

Some found chairs to sit, others had to stand.

I greeted the cast and ignored their confusion.  I encouraged everyone to check out the space...explore if they could find a path.  We reconvened, and I asked what they thought was going to happen in the next 3 hours.  Someone said (with misery), "we're going to clean the space."  B-I-N-G-O.

I've directed a few shows and never, I mean never, had a cast look at me with venom.  They were pissed. All that shit. Daunting.  All that heat. Oh, hell no.  They were there for a read-thru. Not manual labor.

The go-to set builder of DLO began with the tasks.  "We need 3 folks to organize the prop rooms."  "We need 6 folks to haul two heavy metal desks and 4 file cabinets down a huge staircase and into a flatbed."  "We need 4 folks to sort lumber."  "We need 5 folks to breakdown set pieces." And on and on.

Again, with venom, the cast divided themselves up and began working.  It was salty.  Epic fail on the team-building activity.

15 minutes into the process, everyone was sweating through their shirts.  With heavy heads and brand new work gloves, it was pretty silent.  30 minutes into the process, things were looking up. The space was changing, and the chatter began.  Even some laughs.  An hour into the process, everyone was finally on-board.  They were working their asses off and proud of the accomplishments achieved in a pretty short period.  They decided to jump in with both feet.

It was amazing. They found the groove.  Opened up.  Started yelling for drills.  Asking a million questions. Helping each other figure out how to empty the janky vacuum. And by each other, I mean everyone in the room; cast and production team.  The rehearsal space was being created.  Not by a group of salty individuals, anymore...by a community.

To maintain momentum, I made a beer and soda run (there are a few under 21 cast members).  Jesus Christ Superstar.  It maintained the momentum, the tasks were completed, then everyone was excused for the night.

Here's the trippy part.  After being excused, nearly everyone stayed...and not just for the beer.  We skipped name intros at the start, but through this shared experience, we learned names organically.

No awkward stumbles through show material.  No time for first-impressions or wondering where you'll fit in. No need to even label it as a team-building activity.  The sweaty, tired, dirty, exhilarated, and bonded community met a goal and facilitated change.  Change is change.  Be it social change, or changing a space to meet our needs.

Bottom line, change happened when we jumped in with both feet.  It was fan-fucking-tastic.

Bluntly,
Brigadude