and now ... the highlights reel
Posted: Tue Oct 28, 2008 8:41 am
So here's how the staged reading of Pastoral went last night.
I went through all my usual rituals in the afternoon, especially (a) writing thank you notes to the cast and director, and (b) feeling sick. The latter has nothing to do with a lack of confidence in the play, or in the cast ... and it certainly didn't have anything to do with being nervous about having to make a speech. It's just something that goes with the territory. So is pacing around like a nervous tiger before the show. I tried to sit down in the lobby with my wife (we were the first people there). But, as she predicted, my right leg was bouncing up and down a mile a minute. Oh, well. That's the way it goes.
People soon started arriving. Lots of people. I later learned it was the biggest turnout they had ever had for a reading. And it wasn't all, or even mostly, "my" people. (I didn't publicize this in the same way I publicized Galatea, since it was just one night and a much smaller house to fill.)
Before the reading, we had the ceremony. They described the genesis of the Christopher Brian Wolk award, named for a talented young actor who died accidentally at the age of 26. They described the selection process: how over 500 submitted plays were winnowed down to nine finalists; how the nine final plays were stripped of all identifying marks and read by a panel of judges that included Tony-winning director Melvin Bernhardt and William Tynan, a former theatre writer for Time magazine. I found out tonight, for the first time, that the choice was unanimous.
A slight but important digression. Bill Tynan is the surviving partner of the late George Grizzard. (http://www.time.com/time/arts/article/0 ... 55,00.html) And if you don't remember why George Grizzard is important to me, you can read about it here: http://ftangredi.livejournal.com/16591.html. Anyway, Bill did not know who had written the play. But after they made the selection and the name was revealed, he knew my name sounded familiar. He got my name from Abingdon and contacted me, and let me know that he thought Pastoral was the best play he had read in seven years of judging this contest! There's more to this story, too, but that's for another time.
T
he next order of business was the award presentation. Christopher Brian Wolk's sister gave me the plaque and the $1,000 check. (The former stays in the lobby at Abingdon, with my name added to the previous winners; the latter I got to keep.) Then, I got to say a few words. I had carefully rehearsed all the things I might say, and some of those words actually got said. ("My parents made it hard for me to become a writer, because they didn't give me a dysfunctional family to grow up in" was probably the best planned line.) I thanked my minister, who gave me valuable feedback on the script. (The main character is a Presbyterian minister.) I ended with the George Grizzard story, which clearly moved Bill. Overall, I thought the speech went fairly well.
Then, we went into the reading. I was forced to sit down in the front row -- my preference is usually to skulk in the back -- so there was nothing to do but sit back and watch. From the opening moments, I knew we were fine. The actress playing the pastor walked on, and I immediately believed she was a pastor. The entire cast was everything I could have asked for.
I was also well pleased with the music. I had very carefully picked, and specificed in the script, the church music I wanted. Last Sunday, I had a friend record the necessary pieces at church. Each of them added just the right mood for every moment. For those of you who like hymns, the programme was:
This Is My Father's World (on organ)
Jesus Loves Me (sung live)
Be Thou My Vision (on piano)
Savior, Like a Shepherd Lead Us (chorus of Sunday School children)
How Firm a Foundation (sung live)
It Is Well With My Soul (on piano)
I couldn't watch the audience, as I'd be able to if I were skulking in back. But I could hear them. The laughter was rich and warm. The silence spoke volumes. I knew the play was working. You can feel it in the air.
After the reading, the audience gave the cast a well-deserved ovation. Then, we had photos -- me with the judges, me with the cast. Then, I went out the reception. Unfortunately, there were a lot of people there I never got to speak to, since they had trains to catch or otherwise couldn't hang around. But I'm sure I will hear from a lot of them. The people who stayed had so many kind things to say. I could see how moved some of them were. I was buzzed like you wouldn't believe.
By the time Pam hit the road, it was nearly eleven, and we were both ravenous. So we ended up eating dinner at 11:30. Then, I still had to play a few games of Scrabble online to get the edge off before I could even think of going to sleep.
So them's the details.If there are any further developments, I will let you know.
I went through all my usual rituals in the afternoon, especially (a) writing thank you notes to the cast and director, and (b) feeling sick. The latter has nothing to do with a lack of confidence in the play, or in the cast ... and it certainly didn't have anything to do with being nervous about having to make a speech. It's just something that goes with the territory. So is pacing around like a nervous tiger before the show. I tried to sit down in the lobby with my wife (we were the first people there). But, as she predicted, my right leg was bouncing up and down a mile a minute. Oh, well. That's the way it goes.
People soon started arriving. Lots of people. I later learned it was the biggest turnout they had ever had for a reading. And it wasn't all, or even mostly, "my" people. (I didn't publicize this in the same way I publicized Galatea, since it was just one night and a much smaller house to fill.)
Before the reading, we had the ceremony. They described the genesis of the Christopher Brian Wolk award, named for a talented young actor who died accidentally at the age of 26. They described the selection process: how over 500 submitted plays were winnowed down to nine finalists; how the nine final plays were stripped of all identifying marks and read by a panel of judges that included Tony-winning director Melvin Bernhardt and William Tynan, a former theatre writer for Time magazine. I found out tonight, for the first time, that the choice was unanimous.
A slight but important digression. Bill Tynan is the surviving partner of the late George Grizzard. (http://www.time.com/time/arts/article/0 ... 55,00.html) And if you don't remember why George Grizzard is important to me, you can read about it here: http://ftangredi.livejournal.com/16591.html. Anyway, Bill did not know who had written the play. But after they made the selection and the name was revealed, he knew my name sounded familiar. He got my name from Abingdon and contacted me, and let me know that he thought Pastoral was the best play he had read in seven years of judging this contest! There's more to this story, too, but that's for another time.
T
he next order of business was the award presentation. Christopher Brian Wolk's sister gave me the plaque and the $1,000 check. (The former stays in the lobby at Abingdon, with my name added to the previous winners; the latter I got to keep.) Then, I got to say a few words. I had carefully rehearsed all the things I might say, and some of those words actually got said. ("My parents made it hard for me to become a writer, because they didn't give me a dysfunctional family to grow up in" was probably the best planned line.) I thanked my minister, who gave me valuable feedback on the script. (The main character is a Presbyterian minister.) I ended with the George Grizzard story, which clearly moved Bill. Overall, I thought the speech went fairly well.
Then, we went into the reading. I was forced to sit down in the front row -- my preference is usually to skulk in the back -- so there was nothing to do but sit back and watch. From the opening moments, I knew we were fine. The actress playing the pastor walked on, and I immediately believed she was a pastor. The entire cast was everything I could have asked for.
I was also well pleased with the music. I had very carefully picked, and specificed in the script, the church music I wanted. Last Sunday, I had a friend record the necessary pieces at church. Each of them added just the right mood for every moment. For those of you who like hymns, the programme was:
This Is My Father's World (on organ)
Jesus Loves Me (sung live)
Be Thou My Vision (on piano)
Savior, Like a Shepherd Lead Us (chorus of Sunday School children)
How Firm a Foundation (sung live)
It Is Well With My Soul (on piano)
I couldn't watch the audience, as I'd be able to if I were skulking in back. But I could hear them. The laughter was rich and warm. The silence spoke volumes. I knew the play was working. You can feel it in the air.
After the reading, the audience gave the cast a well-deserved ovation. Then, we had photos -- me with the judges, me with the cast. Then, I went out the reception. Unfortunately, there were a lot of people there I never got to speak to, since they had trains to catch or otherwise couldn't hang around. But I'm sure I will hear from a lot of them. The people who stayed had so many kind things to say. I could see how moved some of them were. I was buzzed like you wouldn't believe.
By the time Pam hit the road, it was nearly eleven, and we were both ravenous. So we ended up eating dinner at 11:30. Then, I still had to play a few games of Scrabble online to get the edge off before I could even think of going to sleep.
So them's the details.If there are any further developments, I will let you know.
--Bob