You may have noticed that there has been an influx in Blog Posts these past two weeks. This is because my theatre classes are freaking out about their acting ability, memorization talent, and most importantly, their grades. Because of this, we had such gems of posts as Thoughts on Acting 2 or My Experience in Homestead Theatre, and my favorite, An A to Z List of Why You Should Join Pit! But this next post is tying the Pit post. Erich Hartmann asked what he needed to do to for the blog post and I said “Send me a Google Doc.” A lovely “lost in translation” happened as Erich sat down to write his post thinking it was only for my eyes.
When I opened the google doc, ready to paste it into this blog, I started giggling. “Erich, you realize we have a blog right?”
“It’s not a real one.”
“It’s real, we post and the public reads it.” I smiled at Erich’s shocked face.
“WHAT?!”
What you will read below is written by, sophomore, Erich Hartmann for the Theatre Production Seminar Class while playing Mercutio in Romeo and Juliet. He thought he was writing for an audience of one, so enjoy.
So, in lieu of having an actual blog to post from, I will be writing about my experience with Homestead Theater here, in this lonely, abandoned Google Doc which but one person will ever read, an astonishing monument to solitude and obsolescence. This is how people blog, right? It may just be that I’m waiting for all the other actors to arrive but I feel weirdly okay with that pointlessly existential opening. Shakespeare could use line upon line of needlessly complicated text and nearly identical lines and get praised for it, so I’m probably good. As this is technically a graded assignment I’m probably supposed to be more analytical of my acting instead of emotional tangents, but that’s what blogging is about as far as I’m aware, and it’s certainly what acting is about.
I have some of the most pointlessly emotional lines in our show. The entirety of “Queen Mab” serves the plot in no way, and the emotion behind it is mostly pointless, wasted on a character doomed to die. But I’m happy with it. It’s the exact kind of pointless I adore. Being able to simply vent emotions I’ve ever felt to an audience who will never understand is strangely cathartic. Nothing is expected of me because I’m just a jester with a script, and I get to say what I will and do as I must because people walk in expecting me, the funny little jester to be there, waiting for them. It’s also nice having a set script to follow because then I stay on track, unlike the entirety of this blog post it would seem. As potentially unwise as it is with the heavy grade weight on this blog, I don’t want to craft some impersonal essay for the sake of a number on a report card. I don’t put that kind of importance on acting. It’s not something to be refined and perfected, just something to be done. There’s nothing really to be analyzed here because it’s not some big, grand art to me. It’s just fun. Something to fill my time, something to enjoy.
To try and steer back on topic, I’m going to just finish this on a more pragmatic note. Here are the bare facts of Romeo and Juliet: Campysite edition from my eyes. I began my work with this show just being asked by Mel, most likely because all of 3 people were in on the idea at the time. This is also probably the time I became Mercutio. I’d thought there’d be an audition or selection process for characters, so I excitedly mentioned that I was hoping I could be Mercutio, and sure enough once everyone was gathered, I got assigned as Mercutio, just as I’d hoped. I honestly still have no clue how I feel about it, since it was nice getting the character I desired, but there was no struggle, no skill actually required. Auditions always feel like a comparison to me. I’ve never gotten a lead role because I always come up short compared to everyone around me, or that’s how it feels in my head at least. But that’s again more psychological than I intend to get here, or probably ever for that matter.
Our real work began with the read throughs that followed. It was predominantly confusing, and I never again felt as confused for this production as I did then. It was just language barriers, and the discussion of cuts. We moved on to actual practice after. It was mercurial at best, my blocking for Queen Mab was changed at least 7 times, and ended up wholly divorced from the original movement. The same goes for nearly all scenes, but the only one that really bothered me in any way was my big fight. Tybalt and Mercutio was the scene I’d been most excited to do, and I’d developed scene after scene in my head, limitless ideas for what we could do. I never got to share any of them. 7 minutes, 34 seconds to be heard at all, and ⅕ of the way through an idea that nobody really listened to at all. That bothered me for the first and last time this show. But it’s done and gone now, so I really only have the show left to go, but that’s years away from me and only truly done once my time runs out, and I know you’ll be watching, so where’s the point in speculation? You’ll know how it goes.
Act Out 