Sunday, December 23, 2007
Saturday, December 22, 2007
Friday, December 21, 2007
Taking a Bow
I know I know... I've been meaning to post here for ages but when i finally find the time, we're one show away from the close. What can I say? It's been an awesome run thus far, and I'm not saying this just because I'm part of the crew and there for biased, the general feedback has actually been very positive, ranging from satisfaction to exceeding expectations.
Anyway, I haven't got much to say... Actually I do, but I'm in no condition to articulate anything so I shall do what i do best and have a picture speak those 1000 words for me. :D
Here's to a fantastic closing show. :D
Friday, December 14, 2007
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Feeling nervous about not feeling nervous
When I was just a wee lad, and was going on stage for the first time, I turned to my coach and asked: "Why am I nervous?"
And she, in all her erudite and venerable ways said simply: "Don't ask so many questions. Just get out there."
Which, for a young boy of a singular digit age, was most crushing. It was not until I had reached high school that I got a much better answer: "Nervous is good. It means you care."
Ironically enough, both answers apply greatly to the principles of acting. For additional irony, the first slot of advice used to be pasted up in our rehearsal space itself. (Of course, in a more coherent manner, advertised as actings' golden rule): "Don't think. Just do."
The 2nd slot of advice applies here, where; on the brink of 2 months worth of rehearsals and tinkering and memorizing and experimentation, I personally find solace in the nerve-wracking feeling of sweaty palms, shallow breathing, and hair tearing. (Not applicable in my case, fortunately) The sheer unwelcome shot of adrenalin as I get into character in preparation for the play serves as a reminder of just how hard we've all worked to breathe life into this play. And while a lot of people would receive this reminder as a grim responsibility to not fuck up, it only takes a very small paradigm shift to realize that as an actor you can't fuck up.
Sure! You could forget your lines. Yes! The lights may not be queued properly. Indeed! The careful coordination of movement across the stage may be torn asunder by a simple misstep, but thats just not the point anymore. The point is that both the cast and crew have created something absolutely mind-blowing in the past 2 months, and if some edges turn out to be abit torn, it won't matter, because we have gone through the whole rigmarole of preparation and know exactly what we're capable of, and exactly how good this play has become, and if perhaps some of the audience don't see that on a given night, its fine; because we know that we have created something beautiful. And failing that, our most wise director always reminds us: We are not alone on stage. So yes. Save for the set itself to be eaten by termites, (Touch wood, no pun intended), we are good to bloody go.
And she, in all her erudite and venerable ways said simply: "Don't ask so many questions. Just get out there."
Which, for a young boy of a singular digit age, was most crushing. It was not until I had reached high school that I got a much better answer: "Nervous is good. It means you care."
Ironically enough, both answers apply greatly to the principles of acting. For additional irony, the first slot of advice used to be pasted up in our rehearsal space itself. (Of course, in a more coherent manner, advertised as actings' golden rule): "Don't think. Just do."
The 2nd slot of advice applies here, where; on the brink of 2 months worth of rehearsals and tinkering and memorizing and experimentation, I personally find solace in the nerve-wracking feeling of sweaty palms, shallow breathing, and hair tearing. (Not applicable in my case, fortunately) The sheer unwelcome shot of adrenalin as I get into character in preparation for the play serves as a reminder of just how hard we've all worked to breathe life into this play. And while a lot of people would receive this reminder as a grim responsibility to not fuck up, it only takes a very small paradigm shift to realize that as an actor you can't fuck up.
Sure! You could forget your lines. Yes! The lights may not be queued properly. Indeed! The careful coordination of movement across the stage may be torn asunder by a simple misstep, but thats just not the point anymore. The point is that both the cast and crew have created something absolutely mind-blowing in the past 2 months, and if some edges turn out to be abit torn, it won't matter, because we have gone through the whole rigmarole of preparation and know exactly what we're capable of, and exactly how good this play has become, and if perhaps some of the audience don't see that on a given night, its fine; because we know that we have created something beautiful. And failing that, our most wise director always reminds us: We are not alone on stage. So yes. Save for the set itself to be eaten by termites, (Touch wood, no pun intended), we are good to bloody go.
Hoist the curtain
DUDE!
Tonight's our preview.
No more rehearsals, no more making things and carving things and cutting things and adjusting things (oh who am I kidding? I'll be adjusting my pretty little head off until the 23rd), no more reads and changes, no more empty Dram, no more just us watching the play being run night after night after night.
Tomorrow is our opening night. People are buying tickets (oh, that reminds me. I must go empty my bank account to make sure my friends get seats), people are going to come, people are planning their evenings based on OUR PLAY!
I am so excited. The excitement is bubbling up in me (you can't tell, but I am swiftly resisting an urge to check the script to quote a line) and quietly erasing memories of having breakdowns while all alone in that black box of a space we've been rehearsing in.
For weeks, this play started out to me as nothing more than a blank, lined picture. Bland, white, clean. So perfect for grand possibilities.
Then we - yes, we, the cast, the crew, the director, the audience, the space - started with the smudging and the heavy handling and the messy fingerprints and spilt paint and styrofoam bits and paper strips and lint and that clean, white (resisting urge to quote script AGAIN!) picture was clean and white no more.
Weeks grew into more weeks, and I saw the play as a paint-by-numbers piece, and blank, gaping pieces freaked me out more than it inspired me. I was frantic, scribbling in colours as fast as I could, messy, unorganized, all over the lines. Seems every time I managed to neatly finish a small blue section, the blaring red screamed out to me "Finish me! Finish me!"
Now weeks and weeks grew into days and hours. We abandoned grand ambition and settled for compromises. We abandoned all sense of colour and shape and things started looking messier than they've ever been.
And finally.
That clean white page on which the paint-by-numbers sections were drawn on so carefully has now turned into this giant collage, heavy with glue and pictures and colours and shapes and smudges and time. Sweat from the drilling and the climbing of ladders. Blood from my pricked fingers as I attempted to sow. And tears from that faraway time when I thought I couldn't do it and I would disappoint everyone.
I wish I could have seen then how beautifully everyone else (the wonderful, fantabulous, magnificently talented cast, the diligent Nurul whose company helped me survive those long hours in the Dram, the quietly brilliant Jason, the too-nice-to-be-true and all around helpful Ashaari and of course, the eternally patient and soothing (even if I don't want to admit it) Kelvin) would cover the gaps and fill in the spaces. That amazing foresight would've saved on a lot of despair.
Too late for that now.
The Illusion begins tonight (well, really tomorrow night, but let's say tonight for argument's sake) and I am so excited to unveil our collaborative effort to you.
Tonight's our preview.
No more rehearsals, no more making things and carving things and cutting things and adjusting things (oh who am I kidding? I'll be adjusting my pretty little head off until the 23rd), no more reads and changes, no more empty Dram, no more just us watching the play being run night after night after night.
Tomorrow is our opening night. People are buying tickets (oh, that reminds me. I must go empty my bank account to make sure my friends get seats), people are going to come, people are planning their evenings based on OUR PLAY!
I am so excited. The excitement is bubbling up in me (you can't tell, but I am swiftly resisting an urge to check the script to quote a line) and quietly erasing memories of having breakdowns while all alone in that black box of a space we've been rehearsing in.
For weeks, this play started out to me as nothing more than a blank, lined picture. Bland, white, clean. So perfect for grand possibilities.
Then we - yes, we, the cast, the crew, the director, the audience, the space - started with the smudging and the heavy handling and the messy fingerprints and spilt paint and styrofoam bits and paper strips and lint and that clean, white (resisting urge to quote script AGAIN!) picture was clean and white no more.
Weeks grew into more weeks, and I saw the play as a paint-by-numbers piece, and blank, gaping pieces freaked me out more than it inspired me. I was frantic, scribbling in colours as fast as I could, messy, unorganized, all over the lines. Seems every time I managed to neatly finish a small blue section, the blaring red screamed out to me "Finish me! Finish me!"
Now weeks and weeks grew into days and hours. We abandoned grand ambition and settled for compromises. We abandoned all sense of colour and shape and things started looking messier than they've ever been.
And finally.
That clean white page on which the paint-by-numbers sections were drawn on so carefully has now turned into this giant collage, heavy with glue and pictures and colours and shapes and smudges and time. Sweat from the drilling and the climbing of ladders. Blood from my pricked fingers as I attempted to sow. And tears from that faraway time when I thought I couldn't do it and I would disappoint everyone.
I wish I could have seen then how beautifully everyone else (the wonderful, fantabulous, magnificently talented cast, the diligent Nurul whose company helped me survive those long hours in the Dram, the quietly brilliant Jason, the too-nice-to-be-true and all around helpful Ashaari and of course, the eternally patient and soothing (even if I don't want to admit it) Kelvin) would cover the gaps and fill in the spaces. That amazing foresight would've saved on a lot of despair.
Too late for that now.
The Illusion begins tonight (well, really tomorrow night, but let's say tonight for argument's sake) and I am so excited to unveil our collaborative effort to you.
Matamore Muses
Well. This is it.
And this, I must confess, is my first post and contribution to The Illusion blog.
It's been a very mixed, up-and-down, exciting, sad, strangely welcoming and weirdly fun journey from start to finish.
I remember the day Isma (that "Gleaming, Beaming, Peerless Wonder!") mentioned to me that The Oral Stage was looking for an actor to replace one who left.
Tunku the Musical (my previous production) had just ended and I was feeling not a bit exhausted after almost 20 weeks of seemingly endless rehearsals and shows. It was great! It was exhilarating! But it also took a toll on me and left me very drained...
So I told myself that I'd take a break indefinitely. No more rushing to rehearsals after work; no more staying up late til 2am before going to work at 7am; no more "lack of social life". Just a quiet, relaxing and contemplative end to the year.
But, I, being a glutton for punishment, decided, "What the hey, let's just go and check out this Kelvin fellow and his Illu-whatchamacallit production."
Walked in, read the script and immediately identifed with the character.
Matamore (as I mentioned to Kelvin) reminded me of a character I once played way back in college in 1995 (yes, I'm *that* old).
Like Matamore, Don Adriano in William Shakespeare's Love's Labour's Lost is a braggart and a boast. A man so full of himself, if he were any fuller, you could just push him and he'd bump and roll on the ground like a balloon.
And like a balloon, all he needs is one little prick and he'd blow up, exposing him as a fraud and a sham, full of nothing but hot air.
The main and most significant difference, however, is that (voice drops to a whisper) Matamore is, well, to put it lightly, not entirely here nor there. ;p
I'll leave the rest for the audience to discover...
That he is (possibly) the most interesting character in the play and the most "fun" character to portray convinced me to accept the part. Added to this the fact I've not acted in a full length play since 2004. I was dying to act again! And what better part than Matamore!
"Father, " cries Isabelle, "Hear me!"
And so I cry too. "Hear me! Forgive me, too, for I have sinned..."
I was very close to dropping out of the production at one point.
The whole routine of rushing from work to Dram for rehearsals, sleeping late and waking early for work, and not having any time to do anything else was, again, wreaking havoc on my health (or lack thereof) and the normally well-ordered confines of my oh-so-predictable life...
I was also a wee bit dis-Illusion-ed (pardon the pun) about the production. My initial impression was that of a school play by students for students... Unconvincing, slow, dreary and what talent there was, I could fit into the little finger on one of my hands (that's what playing Matamore does to anyone, by the way!).
Two people (one, a very good friend; the other, my "little Star of the Dawn") convinced me to stay on, so I decided to stick with it and make the best of everything. "After all," she said, "You might actually find yourself having fun."
That I did. A epic kaleidoscopic rollercoaster full of fun!
And what was an ugly duckling blossomed into something of much beauty and great promise. The players, so shy and reserved, so hesitant and unconvincing, began warming up to their characters and slowly, yes, but surely, *became* their characters.
I began to feel the their emotions, empathise with them, sympathise with their conflicts and learned to love the play for its own unique quality. I felt Isabelle's anguish, Lyse's pain, Clindor's happiness and Adraste's anger. Too, I felt the Father's regret and the Bomoh's arrogance. I experienced the helplessness of the Amanuensis and the hideousness of the creatures.
Confidence replaced hesitation. Certainty replaced anxiety. There was energy and there was excitement. Above all else, there was fun and, I would like to believe, there was love.
Love for the play, love for our characters and love for what we are doing.
And as for the production crew... When I walked onto the set last weekend, I was impressed. The stage looked like a Bomoh's cave with creeping vines and tombstones all over while the lighting was spot on - an eery green which gave me chills, then softened to warm shades of red and orange as the scenes changed... Kudos to Shar and Jason for a brilliant job.
Nicholas, too, surprised me with the programme book - I'm sure other productions would *kill* to have such a beautifully designed and laid out book! I especially love the photos he took of everyone (especially mine, of course!)...
Then there was Nurul - I've never had a Stage Manager go to the extent which she did - all the while during rehearsals she'd be vigorously scribbling notes (this is standard practice for SM's throughout the universe - it's what they *do*) but later, she'd actually send us the notes (*gasp!*) with little reminders of changes to the schedule and so on. And of course, in between being a scribe, she also acted as our resident photographer (when Nicholas was absent).
As for Herr Direktor... My thanks for giving me this opportunity to go wild with Matamore! I'd also like to say, that for any director, one's quality can only be measured by the quality of one's work. In which case, I feel that Kelvin should be doubly proud of what he's done with the play.
Last but never least, to my own adored, my Aphrodite, my Venus, my Muse, the wonder of my heart and the joy of my soul, my thanks and endless gratitude for bringing me into this play. Most of all, I thank you for being you.
To be modestly honest and honestly modest, I believe there is always room for further improvement.
But at this time, at this moment, I'd say we're very much ready for the world to see us and experience The Illusion.
And this, I must confess, is my first post and contribution to The Illusion blog.
It's been a very mixed, up-and-down, exciting, sad, strangely welcoming and weirdly fun journey from start to finish.
... In The Beginning ...
I remember the day Isma (that "Gleaming, Beaming, Peerless Wonder!") mentioned to me that The Oral Stage was looking for an actor to replace one who left.
Tunku the Musical (my previous production) had just ended and I was feeling not a bit exhausted after almost 20 weeks of seemingly endless rehearsals and shows. It was great! It was exhilarating! But it also took a toll on me and left me very drained...
So I told myself that I'd take a break indefinitely. No more rushing to rehearsals after work; no more staying up late til 2am before going to work at 7am; no more "lack of social life". Just a quiet, relaxing and contemplative end to the year.
But, I, being a glutton for punishment, decided, "What the hey, let's just go and check out this Kelvin fellow and his Illu-whatchamacallit production."
Walked in, read the script and immediately identifed with the character.
... Matamore ...
Matamore (as I mentioned to Kelvin) reminded me of a character I once played way back in college in 1995 (yes, I'm *that* old).
Like Matamore, Don Adriano in William Shakespeare's Love's Labour's Lost is a braggart and a boast. A man so full of himself, if he were any fuller, you could just push him and he'd bump and roll on the ground like a balloon.
And like a balloon, all he needs is one little prick and he'd blow up, exposing him as a fraud and a sham, full of nothing but hot air.
The main and most significant difference, however, is that (voice drops to a whisper) Matamore is, well, to put it lightly, not entirely here nor there. ;p
I'll leave the rest for the audience to discover...
That he is (possibly) the most interesting character in the play and the most "fun" character to portray convinced me to accept the part. Added to this the fact I've not acted in a full length play since 2004. I was dying to act again! And what better part than Matamore!
... Revelations ...
"Father, " cries Isabelle, "Hear me!"
And so I cry too. "Hear me! Forgive me, too, for I have sinned..."
I was very close to dropping out of the production at one point.
The whole routine of rushing from work to Dram for rehearsals, sleeping late and waking early for work, and not having any time to do anything else was, again, wreaking havoc on my health (or lack thereof) and the normally well-ordered confines of my oh-so-predictable life...
I was also a wee bit dis-Illusion-ed (pardon the pun) about the production. My initial impression was that of a school play by students for students... Unconvincing, slow, dreary and what talent there was, I could fit into the little finger on one of my hands (that's what playing Matamore does to anyone, by the way!).
Two people (one, a very good friend; the other, my "little Star of the Dawn") convinced me to stay on, so I decided to stick with it and make the best of everything. "After all," she said, "You might actually find yourself having fun."
... Evolution ...
That I did. A epic kaleidoscopic rollercoaster full of fun!
And what was an ugly duckling blossomed into something of much beauty and great promise. The players, so shy and reserved, so hesitant and unconvincing, began warming up to their characters and slowly, yes, but surely, *became* their characters.
I began to feel the their emotions, empathise with them, sympathise with their conflicts and learned to love the play for its own unique quality. I felt Isabelle's anguish, Lyse's pain, Clindor's happiness and Adraste's anger. Too, I felt the Father's regret and the Bomoh's arrogance. I experienced the helplessness of the Amanuensis and the hideousness of the creatures.
Confidence replaced hesitation. Certainty replaced anxiety. There was energy and there was excitement. Above all else, there was fun and, I would like to believe, there was love.
Love for the play, love for our characters and love for what we are doing.
... The Unseen ...
And as for the production crew... When I walked onto the set last weekend, I was impressed. The stage looked like a Bomoh's cave with creeping vines and tombstones all over while the lighting was spot on - an eery green which gave me chills, then softened to warm shades of red and orange as the scenes changed... Kudos to Shar and Jason for a brilliant job.
Nicholas, too, surprised me with the programme book - I'm sure other productions would *kill* to have such a beautifully designed and laid out book! I especially love the photos he took of everyone (especially mine, of course!)...
Then there was Nurul - I've never had a Stage Manager go to the extent which she did - all the while during rehearsals she'd be vigorously scribbling notes (this is standard practice for SM's throughout the universe - it's what they *do*) but later, she'd actually send us the notes (*gasp!*) with little reminders of changes to the schedule and so on. And of course, in between being a scribe, she also acted as our resident photographer (when Nicholas was absent).
As for Herr Direktor... My thanks for giving me this opportunity to go wild with Matamore! I'd also like to say, that for any director, one's quality can only be measured by the quality of one's work. In which case, I feel that Kelvin should be doubly proud of what he's done with the play.
Last but never least, to my own adored, my Aphrodite, my Venus, my Muse, the wonder of my heart and the joy of my soul, my thanks and endless gratitude for bringing me into this play. Most of all, I thank you for being you.
... Showtime ...
To be modestly honest and honestly modest, I believe there is always room for further improvement.
But at this time, at this moment, I'd say we're very much ready for the world to see us and experience The Illusion.
break a leg. or two. or three.
having two nicely done tech runs the past two days, i'm more than confident that The Illusion is gonna rawk. nine weeks of endless rehearsals, shuffling of cast members, countless experimentations, incessant changes and fine-tuning, and the show finally opens tomorrow. if you, our audience, feel even a tinge of what The Illusion is about, well done to the production team. remember, what you gather from the play is yours and yours solely- there are no right or wrong answers. thank you for supporting us, and we'll see you on the other side. enjoy the show!
Thursday, December 6, 2007
Reflecting...Maybe I got it from Matamore
I remember during Screwed audition January this year, I read. And when I say read, I meant just read. Coming from a public speaking background, I knew a thing or two about the delivery of words, but nuts about acting. I've been fascinated by theatre for a few years, as part of an audience, but I can't remember why, early this year I just felt like becoming involved in it as an actor. I was enthralled nevertheless to stage manage for Screwed, which I couldn't do in the end, because of other commitments (i.e. exams breathing down my neck). My first acting job (which I got slightly before the Screwed audition) was done in a very hentam saja lah fashion because like I said, I had no idea what to do.
Then came Joe Hasham's Acting for Beginners. There, I didn't just learn acting skills like interpreting scripts and voice projection but also transferable skills like focus, discipline and respect. His class was not comprehensive, after all it was just one session a week for 10 weeks, but it provided me with a strong foundation for which I am grateful.
Then came Tunku the Musical, a couple of made-for-TV movies, a Malay play, five short films, and now, The Illusion...
I remember viewing kakiseni in Australia and dreading the fact that I won't be able to make it to the auditions for this play. Then Kelvin contacted me, with the suggestion that I audition online.
And so I did: www.youtube.com/ismahusein
Some of you have heard of these videos from Kelvin... "Drama..!! She was on the floor and all!!" :P Anyway, there was supposed to be 2 Isabelles and 2 Lyses but for some reason only one of the Lyses got uploaded.
Besides wanting to know what it is like being in a full-length play like this one, I thought it'd be very nice for me to end my year with Oral Stage, since I started the year with it. :)
And with my exams coming nearer, this play is the last one for me till middle of next year. Damn it, I'm feeling sad already. I don't want it to end!
Oh well... as if time would stop for me...7 days till opening night!!
Then came Joe Hasham's Acting for Beginners. There, I didn't just learn acting skills like interpreting scripts and voice projection but also transferable skills like focus, discipline and respect. His class was not comprehensive, after all it was just one session a week for 10 weeks, but it provided me with a strong foundation for which I am grateful.
Then came Tunku the Musical, a couple of made-for-TV movies, a Malay play, five short films, and now, The Illusion...
I remember viewing kakiseni in Australia and dreading the fact that I won't be able to make it to the auditions for this play. Then Kelvin contacted me, with the suggestion that I audition online.
And so I did: www.youtube.com/ismahusein
Some of you have heard of these videos from Kelvin... "Drama..!! She was on the floor and all!!" :P Anyway, there was supposed to be 2 Isabelles and 2 Lyses but for some reason only one of the Lyses got uploaded.
Besides wanting to know what it is like being in a full-length play like this one, I thought it'd be very nice for me to end my year with Oral Stage, since I started the year with it. :)
And with my exams coming nearer, this play is the last one for me till middle of next year. Damn it, I'm feeling sad already. I don't want it to end!
Oh well... as if time would stop for me...7 days till opening night!!
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