Henry V is sharing space with a production of Cinderella for kids, which plays weekend afternoons. So last Sunday we're performing the evening show, and we're in Act 3 besieging Harfleur.

and what happens is we all hit the deck. I sprawl with my legs artfully splayed out, if I do say so myself, and clutch at an imaginary wound near my right kidney. So Sunday I look down in actorly agony at the deck, and there's something sparkly down there. And I look at it, and it's an iridescent heart-shaped sequin from one of the Cinderella costumes.

It's not as good a story as rancid cream puffs, but that's Leta's story to tell.

posted: 5:21:07 PM  

Martha has a really smart way to handle her script. She starts with a xerox copy of the book—lots of us do this, because that way the book stays clean and unmussed. Then she cuts up the copies and pastes one page per sheet into a ruled blank book, so she's got plenty of room for blocking notes, and I see that she uses it for character work, too. But the genius bit is that the blank book is wirebound, so she can fold it around to whatever page she needs. (I use a three-ring binder, and it just takes up too much room and it's hard to keep it open to my place.) Martha's is sort of the same trick that I've seen naturalists use: they'll take a field guide to Kinko's and have the sewn binding sliced off and replaced with a comb binding.

posted: 5:11:36 PM