Last night’s rehearsal was a bit run of the mill — no crying, no startling revelations.
We ran Act II as scheduled and then scattered into groups to review various elements of the show which needed more attention. I gave over the main room for the chorus to review their collective movements and choreography. Meanwhile the principal actors gathered in corners and hallways to go over lines and choreography and to work out specific bits of action.
I spent some of this time plotting the blocking for the final scene, and then went around having private conferences with individual actors on character choices, performance quality, and clarifications of choreography and staging.
The costumers were also there, quietly calling individual actors aside for fittings when they had the chance.
At one point I saw the chorus reviewing an animated little step-step-hop section; actors being fitted into Greek chiton dresses of various hues, another into a shimmering white ball gown; and the guilded Herald solemnly practicing his sword-play. From the hallway, I could hear one group of actors reviewing lines, and another running through the haunting Act I quintet.
Everyone focused. Everyone working.
It was as if the entire show had been fragmented — like light through a prism — and each colorful element was occurring simultaneously in the same moment.