20.07.2009

care instructions

Just about to start the last week of performances of Care Instructions at the Malthouse. It is Monday, our day off. I love having Mondays off, they feel luxurious and slightly wicked. The play has been going well. For the most part I think audiences are really enjoying it, even those who don't quite find their way in to the music of the piece. As far as reviews go there was a lovely one in The Australian by Alison Croggon which can also be found in her wonderful blog Theatre Notes. Chris Boyd gave us an unenthusiastic review in The Herald-Sun. I am certainly having a good time performing it, finding delight in the detail, making discoveries in the text or the image, being truly alive in the moment as much as possible, trying to be generous, open-hearted, courageous.

It is surprising how tiring it is. Although not really. We had just one week to re-rehearse, where many decisions were tested and re-tested, discussed, argued, worried over. That was tough work. Then we had the week where we prepared for opening night, added lights, sound, music and audience, and continued to test and re-test and question and try to perfect the rhythm and the music and the form. Not to mention the performance of the form. Last week was slightly easier, we became more settled, more confident, more relaxed in the form and the piece started to sing. I should have been able to relax but instead also worked three shifts at the bakery. Hard, and not so smart. By last night I was exhausted and pretty wrung out.

Have not been good for much today, did a few errands and some washing and have been lying around lazily for much of the afternoon reading The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini which is a wonderful book and is making me cry. There are many more errands to be done, jobs around the house and garden, as well as admin, but I am trying to remember that resting is important and helpful. The garlic will wait, the pansies and the peas, the little piles of dust and the dishes.

Gentle handwash. Do not soak, wring, bleach or tumble dry. Carefully spread out in winter sunshine to recover.

"What you did was wrong, Amir jan, but do not forget that you were a boy when it happened. A troubled little boy. You were too hard on yourself then, and you still are—I saw it in your eyes in Peshawar. But I hope you will heed this: Aman who has no conscience, no goodness, does not suffer." The Kite Runner, p.276