Our time to move onto the stage, for the only opportunity we would get to run it there. But that would be in the afternoon. In the morning, another rehearsal in a slightly larger classroom than yesterday’s. But we were beset by illness to two important people. One was Avni, playing Auntie, the villain of the piece (and the only slightly larger role.) She assured me she felt better, but it soon became clear that tis was a very temporary improvement, and she soon spiralled downwards, to the extent that we had to send her to rest for the afternoon; she would miss the rehearsal, but she had to be ready for the performance tomorrow. The other invalid was me, struck down by the usual Indian affliction. Everyone was kind and understanding, but especial thanks have to go to my assistant Anuradha, who was wonderful, solicitously providing me with bananas, buttermilk, coconut water, and, at lunch, an especially bland kedgeree, more like a savoury yellow porridge.
The rehearsal in the morni9ng was fine. I am well satisfied with the individual scenes with the four workplaces; all of them have the required element of parody. But the movement scenes involving nearly everyone were a little haphazard, not sharp or tight enough, so we did a little work on them. In the end, however, a combination of my own laziness and lack of rigour meant that these could still have done with work. I get to the point where I think that the positive energy of the cast can be lost i9f they are trained too fiercely… but maybe that is just my excuse. In particular, I was concerned about the final scene, where the people finally confront Auntie (with a soundtrack provided by the Penguin Cafe Orchestra. Choreography is not my strength, as I react to its mechanical aspect (move here, do this, move there, do that.)
Our afternoon slot on stage was set to be between 4 and 6, giving us plenty of time to set up the stage and mikes, discuss lighting, and run the play – it only lasts twenty minutes – and maybe still have time to go over any problems. But I should have realised that the timetable was aspirational at best, and of course the competition which was taking place in the auditorium over-ran – we finally had access to the stage at a little after 5 (and we still had to finish at 6, as there was a trip to the Mall organised fir the evening.)
I hate using microphones for live theatre, unless it’s a musical, when the best option is those almost invisible mikes hidden in hair or costume. But amplified sound was vital, given the size of the auditorium and the fact that it would be packed to the rafters. CMS had just four collar mikes (placing a ball-like mike right in front of the mouth) and an array of mikes on stands littering the stage. That, and the power of their own voices, would have to do. Anuradha read in for Avni from the side of the stage, where she was also operating the sound; none of us had any confidence in the ability of the Indian technical crew to hit the cues, especially with so little time to prepare.
In the circumstances, it went as well as I might have hoped, with enough minor errors to keep them on their toes. But the mikes seemed to do their job well enough. The final movement section, intended to shoe exuberant energy with the downfall of Auntie, was neither energetic nor disciplined enough. Oh for a dance teacher.
