Diary Of A One Night Stand

 

 

By C.S Gilbert

 

Friday, July 18, 7 p.m. The Studios of Key West prepared to present the last program in their home of seven years, the old Armory. People had been arriving for a while. We were gifted with beverages and chips, then gathered at several long tables to learn our fate.

 

 

It wasn’t long before Elena Devers, TSKW deputy director and producer of this sixth edition of One Night Stand, ended the suspense. Writers were announced and in turn drew scrolls from fishbowls assigning them a cast, director, scene designer and stage manager. The team of Margit Bisztray and Heather-May Potter drew first director Will Thompson, then a cast of four. Ashley Kamen, Brandon Beach and I were delighted to be together again, having acted in the last ONS to considerable acclaim. Joining us was last-minute recruit Alaina Plowdrey, an artist-in-residence who had never acted before. Stage manager was Bob Rowland, scene designer Garth Holtkamp and costumes/props person Molly Ross. A formidable company, I thought.

 

 

Elena then announced the common line of dialogue and prop mandatory for each script: “Let’s blow this popsicle stand!” and a gift wrapped carton. Each production team drew a setting; ours was an art gallery. We regrouped briefly, made introductions, gave the stage manager phone numbers and were off — writers to create a 10-minute script due back by 6 a.m.

 

 

Saturday, July 18, 2014. Before 8 a.m. People started drifting in, most heading for the coffee, juice and pastries, then gathered at tables and got a first look at their scripts. Rehearsal spaces had been assigned. There was discussion about tech, especially costumes.

 

 

8:20 a.m. Our company, after bidding a thankful au revoir to our writers, trudged upstairs to Maureen Tracy Venti’s spacious studio to begin rehearsal. (Coincidentally, it was where the trio of us veterans had rehearsed last time.) With a break at about 10, we rehearsed. About noon we were told lunch was downstairs.

 

 

12:20 p.m. With sandwiches and chips in the inner vestibule, we found the floor of the big room all but covered with four backdrops in various stages of completion. One, Dahlia Woods’s cemetery, was already hanging from the balcony to dry.

 

 

12:40 p.m. Went home to gather costume items: Dress and jacket “uniform” for me as gallery docent, a corselette (Molly’s term, thought it was a bustier) from the Fantasy Fest drawer for Ashley.

 

 

2 p.m. Regrouped with costume items, made decisions, then continued to rehearse.

 

 

About 4:50 p.m. (By this time, things were getting intense) We had our 20-minute or half-hour tech on stage to finalize blocking and light and sound cues. I found that running in and out for my nine quick turns on stage stole the breath to do my second role, the computer voice-over. Ashley took over. I caught my breath.

 

 

About 5:20 p.m. We tried to rehearse in the courtyard beside the Ashe Street studios but it was uncomfortably hot. We reconvened in Alaina’s air conditioned studio for several more run-throughs.

 

 

About 6 p.m. I struggled into the basic little black dress, pantyhose and real (= close-toed) shoes.

 

 

6:20 p.m. In place offstage right with all my props: Champagne flutes on tray, cheese plate, Fabreze . . .taking prophylactic puffs off the inhaler to control my @#$%! asthma.

 

 

6:30 p.m. Doors open.

 

 

7:13 p.m. Elena took the stage for intros, followed by board President Rosi Ware and Executive Director Jed Dodds.

 

 

7:17 p.m. M.C. Marky Pierson on stage.

 

 

About 7:22 p.m. Lights down and we, the first up, begin. After only two scenes I know I’m in trouble, sit down the second I exit, use inhaler, try to breathe normally. I get through rest of my totally physical comedy as rehearsed.

 

 

8:10 p.m. The first show ends. I’m breathing fine. Instead of sitting and resting, I go out and cage a couple of beers and bask in compliments from exiting friends. Not smart.

 

 

9:12 p.m. Elena, Rosie, Jed and Marky reprise their intros and we’re on again. I had to cut one bit, seriously tone down my final pantomime and suck on the inhaler in between . . . but I survived, we were all funny and the audience roared.

 

 

10:30 p.m. Home, thinking maybe I’ll go back to tech support next time.

 

 

That’s all for now. Gotta fly!

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