On Tuesday, November 11th, exactly one week after the history-transforming November 4th election, the Caroline cast, director, designers, and the theater’s staff gathered in our 5th floor rehearsal room. The room is huge and airy, lined with windows, and will soon be transformed by the stage management team into a basic model of the Pearlstone Theater, with tape on the floor marking the shape of the stage and a single line of chairs representing the audience. But on Tuesday, it felt like a party. This is a large cast: 19 people all told, and the addition of 50+ members of the production and administrative staff created an exuberant, hectic hustle and bustle as everyone shook the hands of new friends, embraced old ones, and loaded their plates with cheese cubes, Asian pears (from our local Farmer’s market), and chocolate chip cookies.
First rehearsals are always exciting; there’s always a hum of energy and anticipation. But the atmosphere of Tuesday was particularly thrilling. In his marvelous introductory speech, director David Schweizer articulated just why.
He began, “I was resolved to work on Caroline, or Change as a necessary thing under a McCain-Palin administration.” Laughter. But, he explained, because he was “relieved of that combat duty…this project can become a kind of celebration…not a happy-go-lucky celebration…an intense, harrowing…passionate celebration.”
The rehearsal hall primed and ready for the next show's hard work.
Caroline, or Change scrutinizes the lives and families of Caroline Thibodeaux, an African American maid, and Noah Gellman, the eight-year-old son of her Jewish American employers. It’s 1963, and the turbulent waves of resistance and struggle and change flooding the country have begun to ripple and disturb the sleepy bayou town of Lake Charles, Louisiana.
With the complex grandeur of opera, and the microscopic attention of memoir, Caroline scores, as Mr. Schweizer put it, “the crucial unsung (though in this case, very much sung) lives that inch by inch crept along and got Barack Obama elected. It happened because these kinds of people chipped away at it.” He paused, and swallowed, and promised, “I’m not going to weep at rehearsal.”
As Caroline herself sings, she is “mean” and she is “tough”: she would live to see this election. Her kids, and their kids, would see it. Mr. Schweizer affirmed, and, if the palpable exhilaration in the rehearsal room is any indication, everyone at CENTERSTAGE agreed: the opportunity to produce this show, right here and right now, is a gift.
After his speech, Mr. Schweizer presented the set model, designed by Allen Moyer, which begins as a “gleaming nothingness” until Caroline creates a world populated by singing appliances. The initial costume sketches, designed by David Burdick, covered one table in the corner, along with sample swatches of material and the photographs that inspired each design. Then Mr. Schweizer turned to the lighting design by James F. Ingalls, and to perhaps the funniest exchange of the day:
David Schweizer: “What would you call these instruments?”
James Ingalls: “Lightbulbs.”
Usually first rehearsals conclude with a read-through of the play. The cast begins to familiarize themselves with their roles, and the crew and staff hear the script out loud for the first time. But Caroline is set to music, so the cast wasn’t ready to sing it through for an audience—a friendly one, but an audience nevertheless. They promised the staff a concert in a few days’ time.
After most of the people in the room left for their own offices and shops and work, Production dramaturg Drew Lichtenberg and I passed out the dramaturgical research packets we’d prepared, which include a glossary, historical background, and wonderful essays by and about Tony Kushner. Wayne Barker, the music director, sat at the piano and led the cast through a stumbling sing-through. The range of familiarity with the material was vast (E. Faye Butler, after all, joins us having just closed a production as Caroline at Chicago’s Court Theatre), but despite that, the humor and power of the piece shone through. By the end, we needed the tissues that stage management had so kindly placed around the table.
The cast is like a huge extended multi-generational family – from grade-school children to their fictional grandparents – all gathered to tell a story together. Everyone is excited and committed, including the youngest members of this new CENTERSTAGE family. Aaron Bell, a freshman at the Baltimore School for the Arts, will play Caroline’s son Jackie Thibodeaux. “I’ve seen meetings like this on TV, and now I’m here!” he told me, beaming.
I think Baltimore is in for a treat. David Schweizer, a Baltimore native himself, agrees: “I know the audience here is waiting eagerly for this piece and will enter into it as fully as it deserves.”
We’re eager for you to join us in a few weeks for Caroline, or Change.
~Katie
No comments:
Post a Comment